Goldilocks

Goldilocks painting by Jasmine Beckett-Griffith

Goldilocks painting by Jasmine Beckett-Griffith

I’ve said many times I wish I were the ever-graceful and unaffected Grace Kelly.  I’m not particularly emotional at the moment, but it’s a thing with me that I get embarrassed of my emotion.  Wait, no.  I get embarrassed of my *messy* emotions.

I’m perfectly happy that I feel boundless love.  I am tickled that a great number of things delight me. I’m passionate.  I love deeply.  I’m fiercely loyal.  I’m tenacious and determined and empathetic.  I can go there with a friend.  I can take a lover there.  All of these emotions I adore.

But it’s the messy stuff.  I’m ashamed I have insecurities.  I’m embarrassed when I cry.  I can’t stand being irrational or out of sorts or brooding.  I despise that I burn over offenses and that I have to address and let go of things when others seem perfectly capable of stuffing them down forever.  I hate my messy emotions.

I was talking about this with Quinky Girl.  She is a human who gets twinges, but by and large she is unaffected by some things that make me rail.  I deeply envy that.  I would be the same way if I could and I can’t.  I HATE to talk about the little things that bother me.  But if I don’t they become big things and come out sideways.  I hate that too.  Other polys say “Oh I didn’t need to talk about that.  I just let it go”.  And I feel much much worse.  It’s like they are jabbing me right in my eye with that.  I’d prefer not to have awkward moments but I can’t be any other way.  I don’t wanna make shit weird.  I don’t wanna have a little chat.  I hate confrontation and awkwardness.  I wanna just flip my hand, brush my hair off my shoulder and say “I never did mind the little things”.  But I simply don’t work that way. Continue reading

Telling Her

Traveler said all the things.

We have a sexy gal prospect we’ve been talking to and that we’d see separately and together.  It’s a situation that freaks me out a little less than other situations with Traveler dating again, and that’s a little nice.  I’m dealing with stuff that’s coming up in a smaller and less scary way.  Part of it is that I’m talking to her too and that it would be a thing we’d share.  Part of it is that she’s a very busy professional who is very much against dating seriously, and that makes it less scary for me.  And part of it is I don’t think she’s a good match in a broader sense.  It’s a lot easier for me to imagine him having excellent sex and everything being okay. Him having more excellent sex is actually kinda hot.  I wish for him ALL of the excellent sex.

And the unicorn hunted us.

Girls Laughing Together Intimately found at https://www.threedollarbillcinema.org

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I Admit I'm a Bad Poly Sometimes

Alright.  I admit it.

I just read a blog post by Ginger at Poly Nirvana, called Pout.  It’s here.

She’s talking about her “less than perfect” poly feelings as her love is dating and with this other new girl.  She was sort of sharing and admonishing herself and owning up to her stuff.  That’s always kinda rad.  I am a huge believer that what comes from the heart reaches the heart, and such honest sharing is so useful.  When we pour that stuff out people can relate to it.  It’s human.  And of course, it got me thinking.

tiny home in a clearing made of stone and wood

tiny home in a clearing made of stone and wood

It’s not a pressing matter this second, but I’ve been working on preparing for Traveler to find and date and be with others again.  As far as I know he’s not madly searching for new connections, but I know he’s open to the idea and I think he’d like it.  We talked about it a couple of times and I flipped out about it…twice, sadly.  (I despise that by the way).  Traveler has always been unflinchingly supportive of my dating and sexy exploits and whatever.  He trusts me and supports me, and it’s beautiful.  I want to give him that.  Sometimes I do give him that.  He’s so beautiful, so kind, so sweet and passionate and loving, and he has a special gift for loving that honestly I don’t think it would be right to jealously guard it.  I love him loving his wife and I used to love him loving Peaches.  And it’s a precious thing, to love someone so much that their happiness fills you with joy.  He talks about Quinky Girl sometimes and I just overflow.  He SHOULD have that and she should too.  It’s beautiful.  I love that my love for him includes that.  I love that my love for her does too.  It feels very right.  I feel the same about Cleveland and his wife.  I love my men in part because they are good men that know how to love.

But wives don’t scare me in the same way. Continue reading

PodCast 12 – Inside/Outside

Inside/Outside.. the Podcast.  It’s episode number 12, and Cleveland and I talk about all about inclusiveness, integration, and other fancy words for making less compartments and boxes for the people we love.  It’s about mixing it up.  It’s about getting it all together.  It’s about Ohana.  It’s about family and connection.  It’s about this and that.  It’s cake and eating it too.  It’s about the murder.  Awwwww.. yeah….

Listen to it here. 

 

Black and Blue

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**I thought this posted yesterday, but it actually saved as a draft, so today will be a two-fer.  Just a heads up too.. skip if graphic talk of sex and kink with Boss would be unwelcome.  Thanks!**

First a few little housekeeping details… I saw Rollergirl last night for the Roller Derby meet and we had a nice visit.  She and my ex Hubby have broken up.  I knew this was coming.  They have both told me they wanted to break up with the other for weeks now.  They like and care about each other and there were lots of good things, but there was lots of bad too on both sides and their being together was just really unhealthy.  They had reasons that were more about now and reasons that were more about incompatibility, but I still think it was hard.  I thought it would take longer than it did. I feel the tiniest bit vindicated somehow, but I really do feel bad for both of them.  I think it’s healthy and they both seem to think it’s healthy too that they broke up, but endings aren’t fun and despite it all I still love them and therefore don’t wish them to be unhappy.  Hubby and I divorcing, RollerGirl and I broken up, and Hubby and Rollergirl finally breaking up with each other is a sucky end.   It is what it is.  I hope some day he’ll be better.  I hope RollerGirl and I are too.  There are lots of good things I miss about him as a person, and it’d be nice to be friends.  You never know.  Someday…

But on to better things.  I went to the black and blue party last night with Boss.  It was a bunch of firsts for me.

I’ve never been to the black and blue party, though I have wanted to go.  I love impact play.  By impact play I mean being spanked and flogged and hit with things.  We met beforehand at this amazing little neighborhood place called Essex.  They have ridiculously good drinks and make a bunch of stuff there themselves.  So after a quick drink and some delicious cauliflower toasts we hit the club.

When we arrived people were already playing and there was some nice grindy blues on the sound system.  We greeted friends and got situated in the center of the play space.  I was excited and nervous.  I’ve been to a lot of events and had a few dabblings, but this was my first time playing playing with Boss and my first time really playing at the club.  Boss opened his bag and explored things with me, and it was my first time with some of that stuff too.

whipHe had a few single tale whips, which excited and scared me.  I like the idea of some delicious pain, but I didn’t know if I was ready for straight up whipping.. turns out I needn’t have worried.  He had canes and a loop fabric thing with a handle and metal shot filling, and paint stir-sticks and gags.  He had me ask for what I wanted, which I was slightly ready for since he’d told me he would.  I wanted all of it, except maybe the gags, and I managed to pick a few things.  It’s uncomfortable to ask for what I want.  I have this especially with kink, where I feel like I’m asking him to do a lot of work to please me and I’m not totally clear that it’s not a selfish wish of mine.  I have the same difficulty asking people to eat my pussy or give me a back rub or whatever.  I don’t want to ask him to do something he doesn’t want to do.

We got set up and he said “take off whatever you are comfortable taking off”.  Oh man.  I asked him to kiss me.  He did.. a little… and said I’d get more when I took more off.  Oi Vey.  I took off my pants.. kiss kiss.  I took off my shirt.. kiss kiss kiss.  And he pulled me to him and kissed me deeply and pushed himself against me as he unhooked and removed my bra.  Sizzle. bra unhook

We began to play, so slowly and lightly at first.  We kissed here and there and had intense eye contact as he lightly cropped me.. here and there.. dancing on my skin.. warming.  We started with me facing him, facing out into the room, and I was very cognizant of the people watching and of my nakedness at first.  It was a delicious fear.  It excited me to be watched, to watch him, to gauge his facial expressions and briefly flick my attention to the crowd here and there until the sensations increased and I forgot they were present.  My body warmed and my skin sang and I got wetter and wetter as he teased me and tantalized me and built…so.. very… slowly.

He surprised me too in these little fits, when he pressed himself against me, kissed me, and when we let me reach and stroke his cock.  He smiled and gave me a sort of low laugh as I squeezed him, pleased.  He kept it fairly light, since it was our first time together and I’m still so new, but he left me some excellent reminders.  I’m guessing he’s working up.  It’s a good plan.

grabbing sheetI’m a little sore, and I’m bruised fairly well on my breasts and thighs from the cane, but I like it.  It’s a little delicacy to have flashes back to last night.  His hands, him grinding against me, the thud and sting and snap, and his taste come to me in little bursts.  I like to be reminded of the lick of his whip and of grasping the bed with my white knuckles while I flooded, and the pounding grinding aching delight of the back room.  I like the smile I get thinking of making him tingle with my fingertips on his skin and of the warmth of wrapping myself around him after, not wanting to let go and not feeling like I had to.

Cleveland asked me already how last night went because he was so compersive and felt such joy at the idea of me having naughty fun.  It’s a rare treat to get to enjoy his pleasure at my pleasure.  I think I’m starting to believe he really isn’t going to be mean or spiteful or accusatory.  I’m starting to get that he really might be okay, and that if he ever isn’t, maybe he’ll talk to me about it like a human being and we’ll work it out.

I don’t know what Traveler will say about the marks.  We have a date tonight.  He surprises me all the time, but he’s usually so supportive of the exploits of me and his wife and Peaches.  A few times when I’ve had a bruise here or there he’s guessed its origin, smiled, and said something like “very nice” before he fucked me silly.  I don’t know if it’s just that he knows how I feel about him and how he rocks me and therefore he doesn’t have cause for insecurity or that he’s just so happy with what makes the women he is with happy that it doesn’t matter, or maybe even just that he’s used to how well things run so well with him and his wife, but generally I feel like he’s in my corner and he celebrates whatever my successes are.  If he shocks me and needs reassurance or love or whatever I’ll give it gladly.

Ah, but it’s time to get ready.  Time to go shower and enjoy the view of my delicious reminders.  🙂

Full Stop

I have to stop comparing. It’s making me so fucking unhappy. Stop stop stop.

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I am playing WoW and can’t concentrate because I’m all butt-hurt. There. It helped even to write it. I have to stop comparing. This is the second time I’ve done this and it’s so dumb.  I have to stop looking at my cake and then theirs and my cake and then theirs because it just makes me so miserable and otherwise I’m actually very happy. Plus it’s just impossible and wrong. When I’m focusing on my stuff, my plate, my world, all is well. When I look at theirs I think.. hey.. why do they get so much?

So, it’s a four day weekend and I was pretty fucking thrilled because that means I’d get a nice long date… a Saturday. I love Saturday dates, especially when they start a little early. It feels so long and you can have so much fun and relaxing and naughty time and just goodness. And nobody is tired from the week. And there’s breakfast. Mmmm.

So, nobody did anything wrong, but I just kinda feel like I got shafted and you know.. it’s really me and my head doing it. It’s all my head and it’s stupid.  Peaches got all of Friday night and the morning Saturday, and I got the afternoon and evening Saturday and she got the morning, afternoon and evening Sunday, and the whole morning Monday. I’ll get to see him for a tiny bit as he’s coming to my piercing with me, and I find myself butt hurt.

Let me explain. I am doing this to myself. It is totally me!

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The single life

****edited***** the original was full of typos and kinda made me nuts, so I edited it.

It’s been about a month that Hubby and I have been separated.  It’s kinda odd, but most of the time I don’t really mind being single.  I kind of like it.  I feared this for so long, life without Hubby, but honestly it’s not much different.  He ceased being a partner to me before we split.  I mean honestly.. when my patient hung himself and I came home and cried Hubby just sat there flipping the pages of a magazine.  When I had my motorcycle accident he came to the hospital and was rude and kinda mean.  It was the realization I was coming to when he said he’d replaced me with RollerGirl and that he wanted a divorce- I was afraid to not have a partner, but I was already didn’t have a partner.

I remember the first night we opened up and I had sex with kinky boy.  The sex honestly was pretty awesome, but I have to admit that the holding was the part that really wowed me.  Kinky boy held me and didn’t seem to want to get away or stop or fall asleep or leave.  He just seemed to want to hold me and he held me more that night than Hubby had in a year.  He held me and kissed me and cherished me.  He liked me holding him.  Hubby was very affectionate when we first got together and then one day just stopped.  It was a thing I’d complained about for years.  There’s always those little things in a relationship, but it really took a toll, always feeling like a burden for wanting hugs or kisses or snuggles.  So, I miss Hubby, but I miss the Hubby I haven’t had in a long time and it’s not fresh and painful.  But single life still has drawbacks. Continue reading