Open vs closed

“Can we talk about this sex party we’re going to in a couple of weeks?” I said to my partner. “I’m kind of anxious about some things.”

My anxiety spanned a whole range of things. I could feel them scampering about in my brain like prickly little beetles:

how I might feel, all the possible reactions I might have to untold scenarios involving people we haven’t met yet,

imaginary disasters, like coming on my period suddenly or overdosing on a random dose of a drug I wasn’t even going to plan on taking.

Awkward moments. Flip outs, panic attacks, trauma triggers. Seeing an ex. Being left alone.

My partner stopped me.

“I feel like this always happens before a party. You always want to talk about everything that could go wrong. It makes me so anxious I don’t want to go… To be honest, it kind of ruins it for me a bit.”

I stared at him, a bit crestfallen. He doesn’t want to listen to my anxieties?

He went on, “Can’t we talk instead about what we want to happen? All the cool, sexy things we might get to do?” Continue reading “Open vs closed”

Ah, there it is. My kinky side.

January has been a good month with lots to appreciate… except for, there’s been very little sex and no kink! February started with me changing that story. Here’s how that happened.

January saw me going on several beautiful walks in the countryside with good friends; some really lovely dates and evenings in with my partner; a nice session with my other partner at his place.

The first few weeks of my new job feel like they went …OK? I think. I concentrated really hard on taking it slowly and consciously and not allowing myself to run off in all directions or cave to outside pressure to DO STUFF before planning it. I think that paid off, as I now feel pretty calm and in control of what’s quite a difficult programme of work. Continue reading “Ah, there it is. My kinky side.”

I’m attracted to my friend. Should I tell her?

Something I’m brooding on this week. Would welcome advice!

We’ve been good friends for about six years, and I’ve always had some sort of crush on her. I’m confused, scared of ruining our friendship. Should I tell her I’m interested? 

Two women's feet in the grass
Image from Pixabay

Here’s a selection of facts in no particular order:

  • Once, maybe five years ago, she and I were drunk and thought it’d be a good idea to have a threesome with her (then) boyfriend, but he passed out. So I left them alone to sleep, and I went home. At some point in the night, she texted me to say, ‘Next time, let’s just do it without him.’ I was too scared and inexperienced to do anything except respond non-committally (I don’t remember what I said but it was probably dumb). We stayed friends and have just joked about our ‘nearly threesome’ since without really ever discussing it more deeply.
  • Continue reading “I’m attracted to my friend. Should I tell her?”

My most valuable submissive experience (and one of my biggest mistakes)

Jack and I still talk about the first time we tried a BDSM scene together. How badly it went, and what we both learned from it.

It was a turning point in the process of working out what kind of a submissive I really was, and how to communicate that to lovers.

(It kind of follows on from the post I did on becoming a submissive, but is also kind of its own story, so I haven’t called it Part 2- that’s coming real soon!) Continue reading “My most valuable submissive experience (and one of my biggest mistakes)”

A belated sexual awakening

Most films or books involving a ‘sexual awakening’ seem to focus on teenagers. Dewy eyed and fresh-faced as they enter the world of sex, excited at all that the world has to offer.

My sexual awakening was somewhat delayed. I didn’t wake up for AGES. I was sexually dozing, in fact. This is a story about how I eventually got there.

Going into my late teens, when I began having sexual relationships with men, I thought my options were as follows:

a) find a kind, caring man and have nice sex with him. (This option would qualify me for love.)

b) find a nasty (but sexy) man and do whatever he wanted in bed, whether I liked it or not. (This option would be automatic disqualification from love.)

I chose a.

Well, chose might not be the word; probably ‘stumbled into’ is a better description. Continue reading “A belated sexual awakening”