Feb 252018
 
#F4TFriday
February Photofest

Until recently, I was the type that didn’t have regrets. I liked where I was at and didn’t wish for any different outcome because it brought me to the present.

I’m not that person anymore. It’s been a recent realization.

I would take back my marriage – I would change my life to where he didn’t penetrate my life and soul and drain me dry. I would do it, even though it would have meant seeing my sister less, traveling less, the blog, the love, the sex, the exploration and freedom with kink, my current life.

Before him, I was amazing in my career – well respected, well paid, loved going to work every day. I can’t go back to that career, to that place – they won’t take me because as a military spouse (which I became while working there) I had to leave them to follow my husband’s career. I haven’t found the right fit with any other jobs since – though I still may be well paid and respected.

It strained my children’s relationships with the constant moving. I have lost most of my belongings because of the way we separated (we never went back and got our things). I lost friends, community, stability.

Far more importantly, I lost something and feel the ache of that everyday. I read things about it’s better to have loved and lost than not to have loved at all; I don’t share that viewpoint. I would rather be ignorant of this loss, rather not feel it so vividly. It’s been two years now since he asked for a divorce, a year and half since we gave up trying to reconcile. I thought I would be over this, but I’m not.

I also read things about trusting and making yourself vulnerable to another; I don’t share this viewpoint. I did that, trusted, vulnerable, heart spread on the table for him to devour, loved unconditionally, risked it all in the pursuit of my passion and love for him, and it’s left me barren.

That’s not to discount my current partners – I love them, and I believe that they love me. Somehow the human capacity to love is vast and limitless. They each bring something to the table that I appreciate, that I need, that nourishes my soul and sticks little bandaids over the wounds, their kisses cover my scars.

But the scars are still there, the wounds still bleed. I feel it everyday; I really thought I’d be over this but the problem is that I didn’t put up any walls or barriers and he seized every ounce of me. I don’t trust enough in the process to leave myself so vulnerable, so exposed. I don’t believe the risk is worth the price – it puts too much faith in another and dynamics between two people when I need to rely on myself and what I am singularly capable of…

Or at least he wasn’t worth it, or we were not worth the risk.

*Photo taken in bath two years ago, after my ex-husband and I tried cutting during one of our torturous reconciliation (at least that’s what that weekend was for me) attempts. I still bear the scars.

Feb 222018
 
February Photofest

Kink of the Week is on Scratching, and this is one of the tamest pictures I have for scratching. It was when I was baby stepping someone into kink – scratching with nails seems like a good transition with that, and I made sure not to go too deeply or cover too much skin. “I began scratching my nails into this skin, softly but then raked trails as my mouth alternated between hot and cold. I would only dig in when I was in a zone that he found pleasurable. “This pleasure with pain is completely new to me,” he muttered at one point, and I acknowledged that it was my intent to only hurt him when it also felt good.”Restraining Him 

I will also scratch a one night stand; it seems to be a fairly acceptable practice during sex: “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 a Fight

When it comes to scratching in BDSM contexts, I do think to ask permission, as this community is built upon negotiations and consent far more (though even in the vanilla engagements of my sex life I should practice this form of communication): “One of my hands went to his forearm, the fingers curled around his muscle, and before I dug in my nails I realized that he isn’t mine to scratch and mark – to claw into as I am sometimes wont to do when I am in pain. If we play again, I thought fleetingly, I should ask about that. It’s almost instinctual to press my fingertips into something when I am overwhelmed with sensations.” – When I Thought the Scene was Done

Honestly, when I think scratching in terms of kink it’s most often with a knife, however. Curiosity got me searching my own blog for the term scratch and it most often came up with a knife. Knife play is something that I’ve found a lot of people don’t want to engage in regardless of how they see themselves, and I certainly don’t consider it an implement often used outside of people identifying as kinky. Knife play was something I engaged in from the beginning of my sexual life, and something that’s always ticked a box in my brain that is hot. So, regardless of whether I viewed myself as kinky or how vanilla my relationship was – knife play has almost always been there in my relationships (not one night stands).

I used a soothing voice to tell him to relax and did not ease up, only leaned down and thoroughly kissed the swell of a cheek and side of a hip as I whispered that I needed to love my blank canvas. Stretching the moments until he felt the tip of the blade, I scratched red letters into white skin, a love letter unfolded along the curve of his body. Mr. Texas thoroughly believed that I would scar him, protested but didn’t color, so I traversed back up his back after I was done expressing my words and explained that I would never violate his consent, that I would not intentionally ever cut him, scar him, but that his mind and his body were mine in those moments and that I was in control of what he thought and felt. – Knife Reflections

Recently, a curry comb reminds me of scratching – as that’s a fun (fairly new) toy Mr. Texas and I use. It’s so scratchy it can hurt, we bought one horse size so he sometimes puts the metal around my throat as he fucks me, and that’s so incredibly hot to me. ““It’s amazing how much you’ll hurt yourself for an orgasm,” he sounded amazed, but by this point Mr. Texas knows how I can get under the right circumstances. He continued to draw the curry comb against my nipples – or rather keep it pressed up against them as I scratched them back and forth painfully riding him. I would feel my nipples sore for a week, but the price was worth the pleasure.”Somewhat Out of Context Phrases

Feb 082018
 
February Photofest


I’ve seen boot blacking done, and it can be incredibly sexy and erotic. My own personal experiences with boots are not very sexy. When I think of boots, I don’t think of leather boots – I don’t think of the boots I’ve been wearing since I was a teen. I own a pair of knee highs with a decent heel, they make me feel sexy.

But no, when I see the word boots, I think of a freshly molded military man. Being a military spouse has clearly clouded this term to my association.

But military men can be incredibly sexy…chiseled, ready for combat, in his prime. I wrote about my ex-husband once:

He is amazingly fit: he can carry someone across enemy lines, run for distances and speed if need be while being bogged down in weighty gear, can do pull-ups with ease, lift ammo cans, squat and shoot a rifle. I can think of no one more athletic that I am honored to be with than a man who commits his body to his country, to shed sweat and tears and blood for it. But he is just not athletic because his job requires it: he also is a runner by nature, loves to swim, and cycle.

The sexier side of him can lift me easily up for a kiss, or to manipulate me where he wants me. My legs can wrap around his small waist, my arms can barely (heck I may not be able to do this, and if he were around, I’d test it) wrap around his broad chest or shoulders. My eyes can feast of the visual image of his arm muscles bulging when he is braced above me, can feel the ripples of muscles under my fingertips as he moves in and out of me. – Welcome Home

I have been incredibly aware of  his boots (and Mr. Texas, as he is also military) under my bed, or wrapped around his ankles still keeping his pants up far too high for great movement as I have yanked down his pants to have him in my mouth, or inside of my body.

Th e picture was Atargatis’ idea, and I quite loved the concept, and I loved the feel of his boot pressing me into the ground, asserting his dominance on such a physical level, the slight humility of it. I think I would like it if it was done for more than a picture – but I’ve not had this experience.

Honestly, the most I’ve experienced with boots that comes to mind is tripping over them. Military men tend to have a few pairs, and from speaking to other spouses over the years they seem to be littered in walk ways just for tripping purposes (kind of like legos with kids). My toes hurt from the word association from stubbing them so frequently against the boot; I think of the sound of the lace cords being yanked up tight.

And yes, sometimes, just sometimes, I think of the boots preventing his pants from fully coming off because our passion will not allow the time to remove them.


Jan 152018
 

On Twitter, someone suggested looking at comments as a Found Poem. While I certainly didn’t use it the same context, I decided to take tidbits of phrases out of my comments and turn them into Haikus. Here you go, the most recent 21 comments (and because I didn’t write them, who gets the credit):

Aftercare – Cousin Pons

I think I need to

Towel off after intense

And full encounter.

 

Anal – May Moore and Marie Rebelle

Think anal can be

He tucked you in at the end,

All complicated!

 

Heads – Marie Rebelle, Elliott Henry, and Cara Thereon

Heads are not needed:

Fair to be ambivalent,

Be a fantasy!

 

Conceptualized – Mrs. Fever and Accidental Masturbator

Awesome disturbing

And simultaneously

Conceptualized.

 

Art – May Moore and Aurora Glory

I feel a little

Exhausted, I’m terrible

At art, so to speak.

 

Lingerie – Mixxxer, Tits and Test Tubes, and Aurora Glory

Lingerie is fine,

Different and thus intriguing,

Has me interested.

 

Photo – Cara Thereon and May Moore

Fuck that was hooot, Photo,

Inspired in my humble

Opinion, intense.

 

Slow Trust – Sweeten Dirty

I’m slowly working

Up to it with a partner

I trust, my first.

 

Creepy Rope – Jo, Little Switch Bitch, Elliott Henry

It is creepy rope,

More vulnerability,

Did not work for me.

 

New Something – Tits and Test Tubes, Indigo Bird, and Elliott Henry

Bound woman trying

faceless men, something to do,

Your new creation.

 

Don’t Know – Aurora Glory

You really don’t know

a thing, I’m so pleased, at the

idea behind it.

 

I Adore – Aurora Glory and Marie Rebelle

I can see why I

Adore the addition of

bondage fantasy.

 

Other Things – Bee and Cara Thereon

Other things are far

More pleasurable, surreal;

Creepy: a good thing?

Wicked Wednesday

Jan 102018
 

Wicked WednesdayTackling the Wicked Wednesday questions: I am not still talking to my ex. Every so often we still have to text each other for managing a few things still, but that’s far and few in between. I am not having sex with him. I can’t even be friends with him – which is an oddity for me, but the emotions for him were far too strong on my end and became far too toxic once we began to separate between the two of us. He was a big part of a lot of changes that I am still being affected by, so he is often on my mind. I am absolutely positive I don’t want to see him in any shape or fashion. I’ve also learned that with time and distance that I would never want to get back with him.

That being said: he wasn’t a bad guy (excusing the brief periods of reconciliation where he was a total jerk). Our marriage was wonderful in so many ways. I don’t wish him ill; I just don’t want him back.

Waaay back when I was married, I would ask my ex-husband the TMI questions on long road trips; I used to record his answers. So since I have them actually on the blog, and he’s already given permission to post this, here they are: 

You are interviewing someone to be your lover, what are the 3 most important questions you will ask?

Will I get sex when I want it?

What three things do you expect from a relationship with a lover/spouse?

Love, love, and love.

What three things do you expect from a relationship with your child?

To love me, to love them, and to be a pain in the ass

How do you mend a broken heart?

With love, love solves all things

What is your favorite therapy (remedial treatment of mental or bodily disorder)?

Destroying stuff is pretty effective

Who in your life has an annoying habit? How do you deal with this?

My wife is ditsy and I love her anyways

In five words, describe yourself. You cannot use the following words: funny, fun, nice, kind, responsible.

Calm, awesome, caring (I forgot what he said for the other two, so I’ll insert: unmotivated and creative)

If in a long time, romantic relationship do you still flirt? How do you flirt with your significant other?

Yes, we still flirt all the time. And I don’t know how I flirt with her because I’m a crappy husband that way.

Who has been the biggest influence in your life?

My wife, she has certainly influenced my life the most.

What kinds of things really make you laugh?

Stupid humor and all the sick shit that I probably shouldn’t laugh at.

What’s your favorite place in the entire world?

Wherever I’m at. I’m pretty content wherever I am.

Who is your best friend? What do you like about him/her?

My wife; she’s pretty awesome.

What’s your biggest goal in life right now?

To not be a failure. (I complained how vague this was, and how he needs attainable goals. He said it boxes him in, and then once he achieves them he has to think of new ones and he’s too lazy for that.)

What was your family like growing up?

Standard, okay, military family

Some things get better with age, have you? What specifically has gotten better?

Yes, I’m more awesome. I don’t know why.

Are you above average or below average?

Above average.

What was the last romantic act you did for someone? Did they appreciate it?

I don’t know because I’m a shitty husband.

Think back to your very last argument, whose fault was it?

Probably mine. I’m pretty certain it was my fault.

What day of the week do you have sex most often?

I don’t know. I have sex every day of the week.

Do you use kissing as an important way to test out a new mate?

I don’t know, I don’t have the experience in this. But yes, kissing is very important.

7. What do you expect from marriage?
a. safety and solidarity and security
b. a journey towards self-fulfillment and self-actualization with a partner that ‘gets’ you

I have both in my marriage.

8. Acts of love & kindness. Which would mean more to you:
a. Taking your partner a cup of tea in bed (or receiving that cup of tea)
b. Giving or receiving a box of chocolates or flowers

a. Taking your partner a cup of tea in bed (or receiving that cup of tea)

What are some challenges related to your sex life?

My wife wants it a lot more than I do.

Is quality or quantity most important?

My wife tells me both are equally important.

How much sex is enough?

Once a week. But it’s in my contract for two times per day.

 

 Posted by at 2:13 pm
Jan 042018
 

Anal sex is something that just recently occured in my life, and to date I’ve probably engaged in it about five times, including the first time when I was forced. Because of the rocky start that first time, it was something that I felt I needed to do again, and do it correctly with someone I trusted and shortly after that experience so that I didn’t turn it into something far more dramatic (like getting back on a bike after falling off?). The second time was complicated, especially with moving on from the previous experience, but I’m grateful I tried anal again. The third time was because I believe I should try something at least twice before passing judgment and the first time didn’t count.

Now? It’s meh. Mr. Texas has been the depth of my experience in this and he realized it was a go-to when he felt frustrated with me (something he had every right to feel in between all the reconciliation attempts with my ex-husband). Since he discovered that motivating factor for him, and because I am so neutral on the whole experience, we haven’t had anal sex in quite some time. Mr. Texas also isn’t the biggest fan, though I believe this to be because it was a turn off for him until we decided to give it a go and he’s slow to change his opinion on things.

So no, I don’t have a thing for anal sex, though at times I quite like anal stimulation.

I’ve also been the giver with pegging my ex-husband and my take away was it was hot to watch him be pleased but didn’t do much for myself, though I did learn that the thrusting motions are far easier from that side than to bounce up and down or even grind as the person being penetrated on top – no wonder men in my life can go forever if they want to.

I’ve also learned that having anal sex makes me feel more submissive somehow, less likely to make decisions or give a call to action – I want him to be pleased first and foremost. Anal sex isn’t unpleasant, I’ve even orgasmed from it, but it’s certainly not my kink and nor something I believe I’ll actively pursue (at least, not yet; my kinks have certainly expanded over time).

Jan 022018
 

1. Did you make any resolutions at the start of 2017? If yes, how did you do at keeping them? What one thing are you still doing?

No I did not other than have a plan (not a resolution) to buy a house, which I did. I’m not personally (because I’m not handy) but Mr. Texas is working on making some spectacular changes like tearing down a building in the back and build a rope room that will look like a Japanese Tea House on the outside. He’s also built an amazing fence and gate that can suspend a person. I’m pretty lucky to be settling down with him.

2. Pick three words to describe your year 2017.

Numb, busy, surviving.

3. What was your biggest personal change in 2017?

Committing to Mr Texas and getting us a house. It was a good change but not without some challenges.

Figuring out how to cope with wanting to reach out and call my sister (and even my ex-husband) and not being able to anymore. That was rough so many times over.

4. What was totally unexpected in your 2017?

Almost never seeing The Wanderer, and finding peace with my job.

5. What was the best thing that happened to you in 2017?

My children (the best thing that happens to me every year), and making a house a home. Oh and my puppies (gosh I love my puppies). 

Mr Texas’ golden retriever boy teaching my brat girls to climb the stairs

Bonus: Did you make new year resolutions for 2018? Share a few with us? Any of them repeats from 2017?

Nope not a one. I used to make lists of things to accomplish (not necessarily for the new year) but I don’t even do that anymore.

————

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!

Dec 222017
 

https://pixabay.com/en/winter-snow-white-landscape-tree-3009041/

Gorgeous, but freezing. That was the landscape and that was them. Perhaps they were crazy for agreeing to be naked in the snow, and the fact that they both hated the cold, made them tense up when they needed to be fluid and flexible.

Still they trudged along, and gazed at the winter wonderland of the glistening pristine white scenery, even as the snow covered ground made hiking treacherous with hidden rocks and roots below the fluffy, powdery whiteness. It would be a beautiful contrast to the naked skin at least.

They stopped where the air felt thin at the high altitude; they could see their breaths puff in a heated mist in front of their faces.  There was a gnarled tree that seemed to defy the odds, growing atop a large boulder that the wind would not let the snow rest on. The snow was stark white everywhere else with the tree line thinned at the crest and the backdrop view of the mountains was breathtaking – or perhaps that was the chill that seemed to rob them of their breath.

He gave gruff orders as he dropped his pack and took out rope, made even more muffled through his scarf protecting his face. They would have no such protection, hestiantly glanced into each others eyes to see if they dared before they bared their poor skin to the elements. Almost instinctively, they moved close to each other and held arms out to wrap around. He worked the knots around quickly, pressed their bodies even closer together. Soft breasts mashed and created a heated seal, yet still they were aware of each other’s hardened nipples.

“Cold or excited?” one whispered to the other, not wanting to penetrate noise too deeply into the otherwise silence. The rope zinged around itself and whipped her a few times in the momentum, she flinched but was grateful for the speed as that meant that they would be done and dressed sooner.

She realized this whole thing would feel like a race, though she was sure the pictures would come out more serene.

“Both,” was the whispered reply as the other bent down and the hot breath washed against the first’s neck; she laid a gentle kiss, careful to not leave any moisture on the skin as the cold would focus an attack there. The first woman tilted slightly in welcome and it was all the encouragement she needed to continue kissing a bit more intently.

The first woman shivered, though from the kiss or the cold she was unsure. The man continued his work around them, stretched the first woman’s wrists above her head on the branch, her skin was covered in goose bumps and prickled from the chill. The second woman, only being tied to her from the waist down, leaned back a little to cover a nipple in her hot mouth. The nipple felt like it was on fire in sharp contrast, pinpricks of fire melting down her belly and gathering in excitement between her legs.

He had to navigate around them in strange positions to balance between the boulder and the tree with rope being thrown, but did not try to prevent their play. Before the second woman knew it, she was spread out slightly below the first woman, their bodies still touching though her mouth was nowhere near the delectable breast she had just been warming, more towards a knee. Face to face, or knee to face as it more happened to be, the first woman dipped down as far as she could, her lips barely grazing the lower thigh in her bondage to the tree. Still, her lips grazed and she breathed teasingly on the cold skin.

They were not aware of the camera clicks, the whole purpose for this trip, they were too busy trying to explore a new terrain in testing bindings. The second woman craned her neck as far as it would go, though was unable to duplicate the heated mouth on her partner’s thigh.

Like a marionettist, he pulled ropes and limbs and created a story based on the inclinations of the marionettes, careful to move them in the cold, keeping parts that were dangling without heat pressed next to each other in the next shot, worked swiftly but concisely.

He quickly tied rope around the second woman’s waist and between her legs, spreading her lips within reach of the first woman’s, curious if it would be welcomed; he moved quickly to take a picture in case he had to move them.

The second woman was was surprised that as it slid between her folds she felt turned on, despite it hurting slightly in his haste and roughness. She felt incredibly vulnerable; the ice moved in further, and it stung, though suddenly lips and breath chased away the chill and replaced it with warmth at her entrance. Suddenly, her body’s focus gravitated towards that warmth and heat seemingly seeped through her torso.

Eventually, despite the heat and flirtatious tension between the women, the icy chill worked against the rope and their bodies, the ice seeped between them despite the intimately close angles.

“When we are done, I’m sure we’ll feel the snowy air, but we will make it melt with our bodies,” the second woman promised as she was first to be put down on the ground and go towards the clothes warmed by the heated packets in her bag. She disliked that they would have to wait to finish the promise until they got into a warm house, but she was looking forward to the contrasting heat they were bound to create. Hurriedly, she bundled enough to wrap her soon-to-be lover in heated clothing as she too came down from the ropes.

*Read the prompt and it reminded me of this story, rewritten differently around the concept of being tied in the snow for a photo

Nov 122017
 

It was a temptation to push and pull the fragile silken threads from off of her shoulders and expose the breasts which distended the fabric with promise. Her yielding yet unhurriedly undressing made me want to hurt her so as to create some reaction towards me, as I was reacting to her. My gaze was ravenous, admiring, worshiping; she felt it try to penetrate past her reserve, felt how attentive I was to every gesture or movement. She met my gaze completely unashamedly and I did not back down from the intensity, did not pretend how lustful I desired her.

Still, she moved passively, and the more I wanted to behave violently towards her. She was removing clothing with confident deliberateness as if it was a ritual that could not be changed. She looked unapologetic at me and smiled, flashed small even teeth between full lips, and the glimpse of skin on bared shoulders when the silk parted caught the light and held it like the flesh was also made of satin. She held the parted pieces as if unintentionally at her waist, the folds teasingly caught on her stiffened nipples. She continued to look at me as her hand moved away to beckon me closer, the cascading silk revealing a soft satin skin and I needed no further encouragement now that she showed me the smallest interest.

She had lace bra and matching panties with garters, and I’m sure that the creation of lingerie was divine but I was beyond observing heaven; the waiting had been hell and I wanted the heated passion that refused to be tampered down. I rushed to hold my body against hers, my slanted mouth crashed down upon those soft inviting lips so hard I might have tasted blood, pressed her hard into the mattress, pinned her down with hips while my hands were everywhere at once and murmured a false apology as fingers grabbed her stockinged thigh and gripped the gossamer threads to render them apart. Fingertips pressed against warm skin, pushed the thigh to bend to my will and allow my further between her legs, and traveled down the length to the delicate arch of her foot, dragging the destroyed fabric with it.

It made an excellent gag to twist and shove between her tempting lips, tying it along the side of her head. I was unsure if those lips curved into a smile at the reactionary way I was handling her, imagined it if nothing else in my fervor to possess every inch of skin. A knife scratched up the length of leg to travel the cold steel along the side of her hip, the lace parted like soft butter and I gripped it to shove over, exposing the pink glistening of her sex. I quite liked the other half of her leg still the memento of damnable temptation that I was removing to suit my own desires.

More carefully, I slid the blade between the hollow valley of her breasts slowly and watched for her to dare deny this pleasure. Her eyes were half mast as if she too were mesmerized at being bared in such a way, so yanked upwards with such force that the fabric held for just the slightest to also arch her back up towards me before splitting with the force and yielding her softness back onto the mattress and the vision of breasts and pinpointed nipples to my gaze.

My hands would be everywhere at once, so would my mouth, until her cries and pleas beckoned towards heaven.

Oct 302017
 

1. What do you think about when you’re alone in your car?

What I need to do if it’s the beginning of the day, or the day’s events if it’s the end. I think about the past a lot, which is not always healthy.

2. What advice do you have for your previous lover?

To mature a little, be a little more self-sufficient and considerate. Most of the advice from my last relationship is to myself – as I am the only one who can control the change that needed to happen.

3. What  inspires you?

I inspired me. My sister inspired me. My children continue to push me to get up in the mornings. I am a bit lackluster still in life, but making progress towards self-motivation again.

4. If you were to get rid of one person in your life, who would it be and why?

Myself, were that an option. At least, this current self. Banning that, I’m grateful to the people in my life and wouldn’t want to get rid of anyone.

5. How do you cope when your level of sexual desire doesn’t match your partners?

A constant issue in all but a few years of my life. We compromise, mixed in with some whining, begging, and tough negotiations on a case by case setting.

Bonus:  Are you single, why? Are you married, why?

I am neither single nor married. I have two partners – one of which I cohabitate and raise children with. I am not married because I’m ill suited for it.

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!