At what cost?

Sunday, September 20, 2015 1 comment
So last night I planned on going to bed earlyish for me but when I logged off I couldn't sleep.  My mind started churning about 50 million things as it is want to do in the middle of the night.  But this was all propelled by what I was doing right before I logged off.  I was tired but not sleepy so I tried to do what normally works, masturbate and pass out after a nice hard orgasm.  Yeah that didn't work really.  Primarily because I've been horny as hell the last few days which isn't totally abnormal for me but as a result I've been getting off a lot the last few days.  Off tangent: my new toy is flipping amazing and has been part of the impetus of all these orgasms.  Anyway, as the orgasm sleeping pill didn't work I started pondering the woman I had been watching on screen as I joined her in orgasm--Sinnamon Love.  Now for those of you that don't watch much porn (ROFLMAO no idea how you got here but still) she was a prolific Black porn star for quite a while.  Definitely during the time frame I was consuming most of my porn.  She wasn't my first female porn star crush, that was most definitely Dominique Simone, but she was one of my longest because she didn't seem to be anything but natural and enjoying her scenes.  Not to mention she was also one of the first women I saw doing fetish work of any kind that made something stir in me so yeah she definitely left an imprint.  I'm not sure if you have tried to watch much of the new porn that is being made but it's like new rap/hip hop music to me.  Yes it resembles things that I like but the players are all wrong and it doesn't do a damn thing for me 99 percent of the time.  I'm sure you're wondering what I was pondering at 2 in the morning but it was really how while she's shifted out of performing and into a different reality she seems just as genuine but most of all happy in her skin.  She's a writer, blogger, sex educator, wife, mother and grandmother---her grandson is adorable.  I was think of her from when I saw her first to now and how much has changed for her and myself.

I won't pretend to know her life but it impressed upon me something that I have been debating in my own life.  When you put yourself out there then no one can destroy your life for you.  She had been in a career where we all saw her naked and appreciated her energy and sexuality---as well as some potentially condemning her to hell for it---repeatedly for years.  She discussed being a submissive to her partner and dominating others.  She's been open about her life in ways that I have yet to do with the world.  I know I've said it before that it's related to my job and profession being super conservative.  It's also partially related to the fact that I continue to find work in small conservative towns in small conservative states.  But it's mostly tied up with wanting to be accepted and understood and knowing that those who aren't in the know mostly wouldn't do either of those things.  I doubt my brother would care but his wife is odd and that could impact my relationship with him.  My mother didn't know you could spike a watermelon so being tied up and bound for fun is probably out of her wheelhouse.  My dad probably wouldn't have cared but he's not here.  The only people currently in my life that know are a few of my male friends and other people in the lifestyle.  The rest know about my former hoe glory days--okay may not former but they don't know what I do now--and while never judgmental with me overtly I know most of them wouldn't have gone there even if they had been afforded the same opportunities to overindulge in pretty male flesh.

So what is the cost of acceptance and can I afford to pay it?  I keep struggling with that.  Is it worth my job and the few friends I allow into my circle?  Financially I've done nothing that would make me secure enough to live more than a few months if I was fired because I was outed.  I have to support someone other than me so I have to be more cautious in that respect.  I don't see my friends constantly but I appreciate their love and support more than I state here.  This is the only area of my life that I don't do my normal thing.  I'm an advocate and supporter of the underserved and underrepresented.  I am all about empowerment and being the face/mentor/model what have you that someone needs so that they can also take their place at the table.  But when it comes to this I am not now in a place that I can risk it and am not sure that I ever will be and that makes me sad.  I get there are trade offs and costs associated with any and every part of our lives.  But in all the other ways I can be empowered in other avenues in my life my sexuality and relationship choices are judged, evaluated and typically means I will be ostracized if I am fully authentic.  I know I'm not the only one that has this struggle but clearly it's been dancing around in my head for a while because it kept me up last night.

What are your costs for being yourself?  Can you afford to cover them?

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It's Late and I Am...

Friday, September 18, 2015 No comments
I am awake when I should be sleeping.  It happens a lot though so I'm not totally surprised.  I am listening to the rain which normally makes me sleepy and/or horny and I am neither.  I am annoyed that the event I knew I could get to, because others had been canceled and another was/is badly timed, has been moved to a time frame I'll never be able to attend.  And I've been waiting like several dozen others for the last month for a refund to be processed because the organizers just don't seem very capable of doing anything quickly or with any level of transparency at the moment.  I am a tiny bit jealous of the kinky couples who are curled up with one another right now.  Not because they are able to do something kinky at their leisure but I tend to sleep better when I sleep with someone I care about.  I am wondering when and if I need to bite my tongue.  I am waiting for that thunderstruck moment that just says enough already silly little girl it's time right now.  I am frustrated that I haven't been to the gym this week.  I am glad that my boobs haven't deserted me as I've lost weight.  I am confused perpetually by what I want versus what I need versus just being overwhelmed by emotion.  I am glad that Rugrats on cause otherwise I'd be watching crappy tv.  I am finally starting to yawn.  I am going to try to go to sleep and dream of something ridiculous that I would probably never do because I'd be too embarrassed to ask or engage if I was asked.

I am signing off now....

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Exposure: On Coming to Terms with My Broken Bits

Sunday, September 06, 2015 2 comments
This is probably not going to be a normal post.  It may be more raw and guttural than you were expecting.  So if you need something smutty, click on the writing tab at the top.  If you need something funny or lighter then look for the life is good tag on the right side and click there.  Otherwise buckle in while this rambles on for a bit without a clear plan.

I am or have been struggling a bit as of late.  I have felt fractured.  When I have to focus on work and concentrate on grown up life I am capable and competent and it's great until I'm tired and needy and horny and just need to be centered.  I used to be able to center myself quite easily.  I was blessed with a packed Rolodex (for you young folks think of the address book on your telephone) of willing partners that would be happy to engage in a mutual exploitation fest with me for a few hours or few days until we were both sated and could head back to our respective lives.  I've discussed before why I can't do that now.  But in case you've missed that discussion the thing that I got from my earlier fuckfests was endorphin rush on steroids and a little bit of a psychological hit that I had somehow been used or denigrated.  The fact that I did it to myself mostly by selecting people that would make me feel as such was not lost on me and is why it never had the same kind of impact as being submissive does.  Even if I could be happy with just the rush, and I can't to be clear, my playmates are no longer 15 minutes away from my front door and I can't fuck them until six am and still be functional the rest of the day even if they were.  Plus and this is the bigger issue, I need to submit.  I can have sex without being your submissive but without some breath play or some pain of some sort it's only going to curb the physical need not the psychological one.  Add in a dash of being the guardian of my mother and I've got lots of energy pent up that can't be relieved or directed in the right way most of the time.

You haven't heard me talk much about Mr. Wolf or the Dutchman here.  That has been deliberate.  I am pretty sure I did the same thing when I was struggling to figure out what to do with Good Nyte as well.  When I'm confused I keep it close to the vest.  That doesn't help with the confusion but I don't want to cause anyone any undue distress while I engage in a bit of verbal diarrhea.  I can say this without being confused, I care about both of them in totally different ways and for totally different reasons.  Both are important to me and I am grateful that they are in my life.  I'm not sure I'm adding anything of value to their experience but without them both I would have likely let the site go dark last summer when it was time to renew this domain name yet again.  I am a submissive.  It is the core and central part of my being.  But I seem to suck massive monkey balls at being a submissive in a relationship.  I thought previously maybe it was because I was trying to have the white picket fence thing with my Dom and maybe that just wasn't realistic.  I get stir crazy, irritable and hunger for someone that challenges me in a way that the life in the burbs cannot.  Since we don't have a Stepford Dom machine and I can't do some gene splicing my brain is now hinting strongly that maybe single is my mission with play partners or protectors of some sort.  I don't know but I don't seem to be crystal clear about my role or fit anymore.

And that is because I feel inherently broken in ways I can't fully explain.  I am not one of those girls that ever said bring me a great guy and I'll be excited.  I need a great guy with a dark side who might do something so humiliating to me that I never want to venture out in public again.  I want the power differential to be clear and ever present and the warm fuzzy moments are then icing on the cake.  I've known I was twisted for a long time but now I'm feeling it even more as there is literally no reason for me to be confused about what to do but there is because in my brain things are not quite right.  I'm not sure if I as red is ever comfortable being adored.  red the submissive, the slut, the follower of orders, the receptacle of pain and bodily fluids loves being cherished but when I'm not in that space it's uncomfortable.  I took a quiz on FB the other day about what kind of man I needed.  I was pretty sure sadistic teddy bear wouldn't be on the list but I figured I needed a laugh.  I got one but not for the right reasons.  It came up that I needed an artist, someone with a romantic heart who frequently performed grand gestures and told me often how much he loved me.  If you could see my face now and then I'm sure you'd bust up laughing cause just no.  Sappy doesn't make me happy.  I don't enjoy constant reaffirmations that you love or adore me.  If we're fully clothed make an inappropriate joke, smack me on the ass, say something only I will catch as being pervy and tell me I'm cute.  I will light up and be a happy girl.  Tell me how much you want to be with me and how you see our future and it's not that I'm looking for the closest exit but I don't trust you.You must want something because you are putting on a hard sell and I don't like it.  If we're unclothed and you're inside of me on any level tell me whatever you want.  Naked I lap up the adulation.  It feeds my desire to serve you.  I want to be the best everything you've ever experienced and that stroking makes me enthralled and enraptured and is the closest thing to me believing you mean that when I have to armor up and put on the grown up clothes again.

I know that makes no sense.  I am fully aware of it.  I've mentioned it before but I trust your lust.  Your love, I've seen that be fleeting and misdirected as soon as someone else needs you more, adores you more, or makes you think you're 10 feet tall comes along.  I used to think I'd always be a stepmother because I wasn't sure I'd trust a man enough to breed with him but I had no issues taking care of children he already had.  I'm starting to believe I'll always be a mistress or a third or a backup wife.  Which honestly I'm okay with because I don't know if I can handle the energy of being up front.  Mistress isn't the favorite spot in the rotation for me lol but it's amazing with the right person and when I'm aware I'm playing the role---don't hide shit damn it.  The lifestyle is pretty flexible in what we explore but I know mistress isn't always appreciated.  She's helping him hide something from his wife.  That's true, it is, I can't deny that.  I also can't deny him if it's the right him so forgive me if I go exploring.  Again with the brokenness.  What woman wants to be a mistress but doesn't want it for shiny things or to get him away from his wife?  I just want to be happy and if he can make me happy then I'll probably be there until he can't make me happy.  I'm sorry but at the same time I'm not.  I should feel worse about being in that position.  My father cheated on my mother, my older brother's mother, as well as his third and fourth wives as best I can tell.  Save the third one it didn't work out so well for those relationships.  But I don't want to keep the husband at least not at my house or in my life forever.  Nor do I want him at my place for holidays, birthdays and the like.  I want to enjoy his desire for the moments I can get them. Yeah the more that I think about it I'm good and fucked up.  Marry a man that adores me or be another man's mistress?  My ring finger is not itchy or desperate for adornment.

I've thought about going to therapy but my job and my area would make that awkward.  Don't really want to drive an hour away to be seen and that still may not prevent blow back.  Besides I'm not sure what it would do beyond make it plain that I have issues that I'm okay with on one level.  Actually on all levels.  I like to be hurt in ways that are deeply painful and all at once beautiful.  I never feel more beautiful then when I'm being fucked hard while feeling my breath being cut off and hearing some variation of praise being punctuated with the word cunt.  I used to despise that word so much but now it's like good girl when it enters my ear canals.  I want to be kept guessing in some ways but always secure that my service is both wanted and appreciated.  I want to desire him more than I desire anything else in the world.  Just as I trust your lust know that mine is always directly connected to the depth of my service.  Fucked up girl parade on aisle three ladies and gentlemen.  Poor aisle three--does anything good ever happen there?

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