Dec 132016

1. Have you ever tested someone’s love for you? What did you do? Did things turn out as you expected or hoped?

I unconsciously and consciously test love all the time. Mostly because I feel I am undeserving and if they knew me they wouldn’t love me, so I share parts that I believe to be the scariest.

For example, before Texas and I became serious again: I tested if he would love all parts of me so I shared the blog before he began his reasons for us to be committed. And then much later, I suppose I tested him by asking him to be present while I engaged in orgasm play with another person.

2. Select the answer that best fits your experience. I have dated:
a. all the wrong people
b. romantic companions that were mostly a good fit for me.
c. people that were perfect fits–loves at first sight
d. not all that much, I mainly have had a lot of long term relationships

3. Online dating: What is your success rate? What do you consider success?

Well, I met Mr Texas online. He was the first person to contact me on that particular dating site. And I met the Reservist, who was a hot hook up and may become a great friend, on a dating site. 

4. What sexual thing do you do most often that you could commit to doing everyday?

Having sex, oral sex, elements of BDSM, foreplay. These are not hard for me to commit to everyday.

5. What are your thoughts on love and lust?

That the two can be easily blurred, and that love that exists to the most degree in friendship is the hardest to let go of and the strongest. 

Bonus: Are you searching for love or are you searching for attention?

Both, I can’t feel loved without some attention. I was in a long term relationship with a man indifferent and it was the worst relationship by far. 

How to play TMI Tuesday: Copy the above TMI Tuesday questions to your webspace (i.e., a blog). Answer the questions there, then leave a comment below, on this blog post, so we’ll all know where to read your responses. Please don’t forget to link to tmituesdayblog from your website!

Jun 122016

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When my sister and I first began blogging, I wanted absolutely no identifying factors. Sis A definitely chafed at this, but overall really respected my wish to be completely anonymous.

As time has gone on, I’ve become more relaxed about identifying factors, discussing more and more personal stories, letting her show more and more of her face, eventually showing a bit of me too.

I still don’t show my face, but I’m getting closer to it.

My reasons for being anonymous haven’t changed, simply how stringent I feel like I need to be.

At first, the only audience that I personally knew was my sister, and I had zero issues with that. Then my husband starting reading (he always knew, just wasn’t interested). As soon as I knew he read, I found myself changing how I wrote, keeping in mind he was in the audience.

The friend that was my tech help later became my lover for a time – he obviously knew about the blog, he helped me make it. He encouraged me to write after we were intimate, and loved to read it. I’ve written in more detail how people that I am intimate with have shaped my writing in Known Blogger.

When my sister convinced me to let her post the website on her Fetlife – certainly taking at least her away from anonymity with her kink community, my husband and I decided to do that as well.

So mostly everyone I met in the kink communities knew I wrote; it was odd to see a comment from someone I knew personally. It was strange to me that I may write up something that will influence how they see me, my sister, my husband. They may read something about a scene that I have had in their presence. (Lesson Learned would be a prime example.)

Mimir became my first true challenge on how to navigate consent with writing – I asked if I could post scenes for the first time ever and he read each and every write up beforehand for approval.

Because I started to write from a personal perspective about my life and explorations, I felt that it was important to write up any conflicts and had the full support and approval from my husband. The problem with this only came about when he moved across the country to try and find a job after getting out of the military, and we were separated for a few months while I supported us and gave notice to quit my job before joining him. New people in a new community were reading the blog without seeing our dynamic in person and the deep love that we had for each other. They also only viewed me from the one perspective that the blog affords – not as a wife, or mother, or professional, or friend, only from the sexual journey that I presented for a particular audience.

My identity is far more than the flat sided puzzle piece of the blog.

They began to criticize our dynamic.

Then my husband found a play partner and immediately broke all boundaries and limits that we had established in pursuit of a relationship. I understood the whys – after all, I had been guilty of it years prior, and I moved across country with a job offer in his town only to be turned down within hours of arriving.

I wrote of my heart ache in separating from the love of my life, sent them to him for permission, and tentatively got it. He was always my biggest supporter, though he disagreed on some posts and wanted his girlfriend left out of it completely.

And then I became the other woman, and he wanted that kept hidden. He began to  criticize and shame me on what he was reading from Twitter. I blocked him, he created a new account. He said his girlfriend read my Twitter, read my blog. I tried to stifle even more of me, take out less personal details.

But the blog had become something very personal, and I just couldn’t take it back to impersonal erotica. At a time where I was again alone from moving and not having a support system when I so desperately needed it, I found strength in the online community.

Then he wanted nothing else posted – this is about where I’ve left his story off, though I did share more than he wanted at the very end – I felt like it was important to gain perspective and for my healing process, not to mention that it completely killed the twisted future that he and I went back and forth on.

To be very honest: my marriage kicked ass and was truly magnificent (I absolutely mourn for it far more than I thought possible); it was my divorce that became dark, abusive, cruel, ugly.

Because the blog is a few months behind my actual life for most posts (not all), when I began venturing into new relationships and new communities, I have kept it anonymous: it is no longer on my Fetlife profile, the people I scene with do not know of its existence – though if I ever develop any sort of intimacy with someone they will know, I just feel that’s ethical, though I do not feel the need to share with my random hookups or random people I scene with.

So who does know in my “new” life?

Mr. Texas because he was someone that I became very intimate with and he features often.

David because he was in my old town so already met me with the full knowledge, and because I needed his permission to post the photos (each one emailed for approval prior).

Speaking of photos, any random guy that I take a photo of that I want to post knows (so far this is only one man).

The Wanderer who also knew me prior to me withdrawing open knowledge. Just like with Mimir, I am incredibly nervous to write about him, almost intimidated.

I am about to tell The Reservist because he is more than a one night stand, despite my original intention of only one time. He lives in my actual town though I hooked up with him across the country while he was in training, and he paid to fly me back out to see him over a long weekend before he deployed. We have a great connection and amazing sex. We have every intention of pursuing something once he is finished with his deployment. I figure when he returns, I will tell him if we truly do pick back up.

I am also about to tell someone I’ve scened a few times with; we are about to do some photo shoots which will definitely need his permission. He is great at rope, though I do not have the dynamic that I had with Mimir. (Hopefully, I will develop that strong of a dynamic with someone else someday as it was everything I could ever hope for.)

I am tentative about sharing the blog to people I am meeting because I do not want to be judged from this one sided perspective of my life – it does not define the entire person that I am, it simply sheds light into my sexual journeys and relationships with others.

 Posted by at 2:01 pm
May 222016

Story of what I thought was a random pick up guy here. I had a long night with this guy.

He picked me up and bounced me on top of him standing. The muscles in his arms bulged and I gripped his broad shoulders to balance, my legs not quite wrapping around his waist – a military body is truly a work of art at its peak.

It was in this position, where he was essentially in the driver’s seat over the sex, that he curiously asked: “If you wanted to take control, could you?”

I thought for all of a few seconds. “Yes.” I was fairly confident of my skills and abilities, thought about what little I knew of random pick up dude and knew he wouldn’t hurt me intentional – which always gave me an advantage.

He obvious viewed me as someone he could just throw ideas at, as he had already asked to take a video of us.

He lowered our bodies to the bed, the mattress firm at my back before I used the strength of my leg to gently kick into his chest; he ended up laying on his back with his head barely missing a dresser, surprised at the action.

I don’t think he got kicked much in bed.

I was on top of him instantly, my small but still effective hand around his throat; my thumb dug into the side of his jaw to position his face to the side and teeth bit down where neck meets shoulder. He groaned, whispered to not leave a mark, tried to grasp me – but not to hold me to him, rather to remove me.

So it appeared he wanted a fight, not just me in control. Always a bit trickier, as he was undoubtedly stronger and I am not going to hurt a random man in my quest for control.

My hand tightened on his neck, fingertips pressing in, my teeth sunk into the muscle on his chest, one knee dug into his upper arm while my other hand’s nails pressed into his sensitive nerves along the other upper arm. There’s an advantage to being small in that I am quick and my legs can easily be used in the same region as my arms. Also, being a rope bottom has taught exactly what part of the arms are full of exposed nerves.

“Jesus you’re incredible,” he whispered as his body relaxed into what I was doing. My mouth turned into kisses as I felt him submit and relax his body into the mattress; one hand moved to roam and explore his hardness, stroking him. And then he gave a tell tale sign of tensing, and my hand around his throat was ineffective as he pushed against it and my unwillingness to grip too hard against a pulse or windpipe with a man I just met, so I used my forearm and pressed more to hold his neck down, My leg began to be useless as well as he pivoted to the side a bit, but my free hand stopped stroking him and nails again clawed and gripped the flesh and muscle on his chest right under the arm.

…I’m certainly not going to hurt his cock – we hadn’t discussed that bit.

“Stay down,” I ordered, my forearm pressed a bit more, my nails threatened to dig even further. He complimented me some more, asked for a kiss, and after some time of me stroking and kissing him, I relaxed my stance on top of him and allowed us to be rolled to where he was on top again.

I should have known he would different from the other random hook up guys – I had actually kissed him and he had a whole list of things he wanted to do with me after this first night.

He slid into my depths as his hands took hold of my ankles and he positioned them up his body. I hooked my ankles on his shoulders and arched my hips even further up to take him in deeper. After some time, he held one of my feet and sucked on my toes

…another first, and one I didn’t see coming – if I had I would have stopped it as I hate my feet being touched in anything other than a massage. I wasn’t about to kick in his teeth, though the urge was strong. I simply waited until it felt safe to remove my toes from his mouth without hurting him and then changed our position so it was no longer an option.

When we were finally done, when he finally found his release as I rode him some time later, he stood up and walked to the mirror to inspect his body and supposedly the damage done. “You weren’t kidding, no marks,” he remarked in awe over his neck.

It’s a source of pride to me that I can go pretty hard on a man’s neck and not leave marks.

He rotated and saw his back, the side of his chest where my raked nails raised red. “I didn’t promise I wouldn’t scratch you,” I laughed and he smiled, uncaring of those marks.

He wanted to see me again, the next day. I told him I was busy so he pushed to see me when he got back from a deployment. I was hoping he would forget all about me by that point and told him that I wouldn’t see him again.

Still, he’s sweet and texts and checks in with me, so maybe we’ll be friends.

..and it turns out that despite my intentions of him being a one-nighter, he ended up being more. Turned out he lived in my town I just moved to after the divorce and he was all the way across the country for training before a deployment. Such a small world.
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May 152016

Masturbation Monday badge - smallI fought with my ex husband and then called up for a lover. It just happens sometimes. Sex can be my drug.

I didn’t intend to pick up a lover at all. I blocked my ex’s number, told him that I wanted just one week of respite from his constant calls on my vacation, and thought I was good.

He created several new numbers to call me from. Then he started texting me, threatening to ruin my brand new relationship with Mr. Texas, whose phone number he had because when we still shared a phone plan he saw how often I spoke to a number. But that’s not all: he also used an I-lost-my-phone-app and had my phone pinging since none of those worked. Talk about going crazy because I no longer wanted to speak to him.

But all this was after me answering his questions about what I was doing, how life was going, him bragging about his new adventures pursuing a rope dream that was ours – with his girlfriend who was brand new in rope, and then him telling me that he doesn’t want to speak to me ever again and he wants to completely cut me out of his life.

Yep, I was an emotional wreck. So, I just found a lover, turned off my phone…became lost in the arms and mouth and cock of another.

I made the first move, as he seemed content to sit across the bed from me and talk. I kissed him and pulled him on top of me. I sucked on his neck as his hands roamed a new body – mine with its history, curves, and scars. He leaned away from my mouth to pull off my pants quickly – like the magician who rips off the tablecloth without damaging anything on the surface. I sat up and pulled off my shirt as he removed his clothes.

Men in this area never disappoint as far as bodies. They are created from the military – not natural human daily tasks, but crafted to be broad of shoulder, tapered to small waist, and muscle definition throughout it all. These bodies can lift me with ease, have the stamina to go all night. I never require either one, I only required an escape and his eyes promised that in the dim light.

A knee and then a body on the bed, on me. A strong chest pressed against my soft breasts, a possessive mouth covered mine, a dance of tongues, gripping of hands. With  my small hands, I pulled and clenched at the various parts of him, he couldn’t be close enough, not even when he finally slid deep inside of me.

His hands also roamed as his mouth tasted, roughly – as that is what I stated I liked before we even began. His hips positioned between my easily parted thighs, fingertips massaged my hips and forced up so that his stomach ground into my clit. His mouth trailed wet, open mouth kisses to my breasts and as he shifted we both took advantage of the space and our hands sought out our colliding points.

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His fingers entered me to find me already wet. I palmed the head of his erection, reveled in the smooth skin as my fingertips wrapped and followed the curve of his shaft. He was long, hard, and had a natural curve down.

When he entered me, he told me he wasn’t going to cum, that he could do this all night long. Why would anyone believe this is desirable? I get some time is appreciated, but at least for myself I have never appreciated marathon sex. Give me fifteen minutes of penetration please; I could do foreplay and afterplay for much longer, however.

He had this neat trick of launching us still connected into almost a back roll, without my assistance, and all the sudden I would be on top. Honestly, I still can’t think of how he did it, but I did compliment him on the nifty trick every time he did it. I joked once that I wouldn’t mind being on top if he would take less time, but by that point I had already been on top a few times.

He wanted the light on and the only one in the room was an overhead on a fan. I hate the bright lights right above my head, but he really wanted to see us in something other than the incredibly dim lighting coming from the window. He was very intent on my face after he ran his hands and mouth over my body, complimented me as he traversed. He seemed to love to watch my expressions, delighted in hearing my noises as they accompanied what he was doing to me. Self conscious and hating the light anyhow, I kept my eyes shut most of the time.

“We should take a video of us,” he said, to which I immediately rejected. “You could keep it. We’re so hot together.” There was no way, and despite his insistence as he fucked me, I remained firm in that decision. There is only man I have taken a video with, only one man I trusted still.

He picked me up and bounced me on top of him standing. It was in this position that he curiously asked: “If you wanted to take control, could you?”

I thought for all of a few seconds. “Yes.” I was fairly confident of my skills and abilities, thought about what little I knew of random pick up dude and knew he wouldn’t hurt me intentional – which always gave me an advantage.

I had a long night with this guy, so I will continue this one night some other time…

…and it turns out that despite my intentions of him being a one-nighter, he ended up being more in such the strangest of ways.

Continued Here