Being a decent human..

Hello, new friend. Or old friends. Whatever, yay friends!

I know, I know, I’m slacking. *sighs* I’ll do better soon.

So, just home from a con! Well, yesterday, but THAT was my lazy day at home. Today I’m up and back at it. Woo!

Ugh. I hate fighting the sads. Don’t get me wrong, I completely get why I’m sad (and it’s partly con-drop, true) but, since I *know* why I’m sad I should be able to control it. Right? *slightly panicky voice* Right?!

Ah. If only our emotions were so easily controlled. That would be logical. Dang you emotions, for being non-volitional, why do you make life so hard?

I mean, I would much rather chose to turn off hurting when it’s time or only care about certain people…but then I’d miss out on the rush of NRE…and that gut-wrenching, amazing, humbling, earth-shattering moment when someone does something insignificant or stupid or sarcastic and you *just know* that you love them. You know what I mean?

Like the time forever ago that a boy was helping me put together a TV stand and oh, we were just pissing each other off with the stupid directions and tools. I snapped at him about something and he just grumped at me to go eat a sandwich before he stabbed me with the screwdriver for being hangry… And I just could not stop laughing… And I just knew that I loved him.

And I think sometimes that my mom might be right, that I love too much or too easily or too deeply or too something…

And other times I know I’m a seething bundle of wrath, so that can’t be true. Being a decent human is hard. It would be as satisfying as loving some people, to just fucking destroy them.

Or to somehow make me matter again.

*sighs* And then someone or someones come along… a new friend, an old friend, a lover, a family member, a wise old teacher… and they offer a little guidance or just their presence reminds you that you’ll make it through the rough patch…that even if you feel broken, you’ll heal.

In time.

 

 

 

 

Post Con ramblings..

Uggh. Yay! Uggh. Yay! *headdesk*

That’s all the sum up you need, yes?

I’M KIDDING! Sheesh.

Honestly I had a great time at the event. Friends, new and old, and oddly awesome flirting energy. Completely gobsmacking one friend to the point that I just had to arch a brow and say ‘Well hello there.’ to have her flustered all weekend. *teehee* I may have enjoyed that advantage a bit much.

Drive bys and mini scenes and conversations… it was a good weekend.

I’ve kept myself busy with projects and work after the event trying to stave off  drop and thought I had managed it until the last couple of afternoons. I’ve just been randomly weepy and lonely for a couple of days now. Well, to be honest the lonely is becoming more normal…sadly. But I hate the weepies!

I am not kidding I had a Doctor think I was having an allergic reaction one time, because he saw me crying. It’s not pretty. Like a full on stop as he walked past me, and an “OMG are you ok?! Are you having an allergic reaction?” *SIGHS* I’m fine doc, I’m just an ugly crier, thanks for asking.

Now, I have an old friend trying to reconnect and I’m both excited and petrified…cause I’m not in a great place right now. And I know I have a habit of over sharing? dumping? venting? any of those things, lol. and I don’t want that to be all everything is about.

Am I overthinking? Cause I do that too.. damn the brain weasels.

I’m Baa-ack!

It’s alive! It’s ALIIIVE! *Giggles*

Hi all! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you, my darlings! OMG, three years?! I suck. So many things to catch up on! All the things!

We will catch up on it all I promise you! Loves and tears and life and joys and disappointments galore! Kids and kink and relationships and the snozzberries taste like snozzberries! Yes, I am still a dork.

We’ll talk about my mom breakdown(I’ve got a kiddo turning 18 soon!), relationship changes and adjustments (D, me, etc), all the delightful changes in kink and play I’ve been working on, life changes(moving, school, work, health, etc) and any old thing that pops into my brain along the way. Y’all remember I squirrel, right? Well, I do.

There is going to be word vomiting, I swear to you! And now, off to update my links, descriptions, and maybe colors? Perhaps even my thoughts.

Who knows where thoughts come from? They just appear. Name that movie, if you can. Mwahaha!

 

 

C is for Casual

So, as those of you who know me may have noted, I don’t tend to play with random people. I at least like to have known you and conversed in person for a bit so that I get a feel for who you are. I really truly prefer long lasting partners, even for play. Past experience with random hook ups/play dates that started out as “let’s be regular play partners” compounded with a run of bad luck in secondary partners has left me feeling pretty used.

I tend to only open up to D or a couple of friends about it. So.. no random play partners is my rule for myself. My emotional and mental health is more important than my kink/sexual side being indulged then smacked back down. Right?

Plus, I think that my personal “definition” of play partners, secondaries, and lovers doesn’t match up with the… let’s say ‘commonly accepted’…definition of those labels. (But that’s a different blog post)

So, 99.8% of the time I stick to that rule. Twice in three years I’ve made an exception.

I’m writing today to share a story about one of the rare exceptions. Non-pertinent-to-the-story details and names are modified to protect the guilty. 😛 *cue dramatic music*

This past weekend I was working a kink event (most of you know which one). One of the gentlemen I needed to interact with (we’ll call him C), after mildly flirting/making eyes at me pretty much the entire first day, asked me to play the second night. I’ll admit I made him wait to have a longer conversation and get through negotiations before I would say yes or no. (I have a couple of medical issues that have to be brought up before any play) He bore up well under the strain of uncertainty; we reached an agreement, and headed off to play. 😉

And the squirrels in my brain started *FREAKING* out.  You’re gonna regret this tomorrow! But he’s sexy and can hold a conversation and has toys I want to try. Yeah, but he’s leaving tomorrow and so are you…for separate STATES. Well, yeah… but I knew that! I just want a nice fun scene with no strings. And did you see his eyes/hair/tattoo/goatee? Sure, sure, he’s hitting a lot of sex buttons and you know these things are fun, buut the next day…*singsong* little bunny Fufu hopping through the forest…  Seriously?! Did my brain squirrel just squirrel? That’s the line! Everyone shut the FUCK UP. We’re doing this.

At this point, C and I had picked a spot and I’m stripping while he sets up.

“Do you want the boots on or off?”

“Keep them on, they’re sexy. Kneel up here, can you lean forward? Good.”

Oh, God. Here we go.

Flogging my ass. Ooh, I like. C checks in, I’m still good.

Fingernails up and down my back. Yesss.

Paddling. So hot but I don’t want to cry yet. Harder. I raise up.

C checks in: “Do you want me to continue?” Words are HARD. I nod yes. “Good girl.”

More paddling, other toys… is that something pointy? YAY!

C checks in… fuck, he’s getting into it now, look at him. All breathing hard and vibrating energy. Damn.

Biting. My ass. My shoulders. My neck. Holy Fuck, yes. Wait, did I say that out loud?

Fingering my pussy. Two fingers. More. Wait, is he fisting me? Oh. My.. Yes!

Orgasm.

C: “Do you want me to keep going?”

Me: “Are you enjoying?”

C: “I love it.”

Fisting deeper.  Orgasm.  Again. “That’s it. Cum again for me.”

Deeper again. I moan and cry and cum until it hurts.

He stops as soon as I ask. Damn, that’s hot too. He tells me to push out his hand.

Kisses and hair pulling and nibbles until I’m steady enough to turn to my back.

Electric..on my thighs, nipples, clit. Sliding the bulb into my pussy. Then me as the electrode and metal rods, floggers, etc.

Then, knives. Oh, fuck. I’m going to cum again.

I shriek and twitch and cum. I have to yellow to not fall off the freaking bench.

Paddling to the thighs. Fingering to orgasm. Paddling the nipples. That fucking hurts. Yay!

We wind down. Both of us admit sex would be awesome, but not happening. Cuddling against the wall. Talking.

Fingering til I cum. More talking and nibbling and making out. And talking. The next time I look up, I realize we’ve sat and talked through the scene after us.

That’s fucking sexy. Dammit.

C walks me back to my room and kisses me goodbye for the evening. And a gentleman.

The rest of the night I keep getting asked why I’m grinning so much.

The next day we both are rushing around packing up but make time to check in. C makes me promise to get in touch again on Fet. We go our separate ways.

And I’m good. Have a bit of drop, but that’s expected after a big event. No extra repercussions from playing casually. The squirrels are behaving. Quiet.

I think it’s time to start sharing myself a little bit more often. Again.

A Plethora of Perceptions Pertaining to Proximate Partners

(or Secondary relationships, brought to you by the letter P and the number 2)

My sweetie pointed me toward K&P tonight to look at a post about love being what you do vs what you feel. And it was certainly interesting, but I noticed and read several about ‘secondary’ partners that sort of triggered a need to post.

There seems to be this mental association to the label of secondary, that somehow calling somone secondary or being called a secondary partner means that you’re “lesser” or “disposable” or treating your partner as lesser or what have you. And that may well be the case in some relationships. Which is complete crap of course. Sure, one of the actual definitions of the word secondary is: of second rank, importance, or value.  But, did anyone other than me learn in kindergarten that words can have multiple meanings?

How about this definition: not first in order of occurrence or development.  What exactly is wrong with being the second person I am in love with or develop a relationship with? What exactly is wrong with calling that relationship ‘secondary’ or ‘my secondary relationship’ or ‘my secondary partner’? D is my primary partner, yeah that means he was here before you. That doesn’t mean that a secondary partner will get a smaller piece of the love loaf. (Have a habit of making similes about love not being like a loaf of bread, though I guess that makes them reverse similes? Whatevs, I just wanted to say love loaf. Oh, I said it again! Nee.)

Or this: of, relating to, or being the second order or stage in a series. Hmm. Sounds like poly to me! Let’s pretend! I have a series of relationships… longest running: primary, next longest running: secondary, etc, so on and so forth. Having a longer history or a deeper life entanglement (think bills, kids, family squabbles) with a primary partner doesn’t mean a secondary partner is lesser! Matter of fact, most of the time it means a secondary partner gets more relaxation, more calm, more good things; because they are less(uh-oh, there’s that four letter word again!) likely to have the same life responsibilities that a primary partner will have.

Alternate synonyms for ‘secondary’ if you just can’t wrap your head around the whole ‘secondaries aren’t lesser’ thing: accessory, alternate, auxiliary, backup, extra, relief, reserve, subsidiary, supporting, tributary, consequential… Hell, call it anything except late to dinner provided you’re treated well and happy in it.

Seriously, who gives a flying fuck on a flat faced flugle horse about the label, honestly?! Stop spending so much time hung up on “oh, gosh that label sounds like secondaries are lesser or being treated as lesser”. Focus on what being a second partner is to you and the people you are with! If they are treating you as lesser and disposable, then you have an issue. If not, you don’t need to make the label the issue. Enjoy having another person in your life to love and be loved by!

(Imaginary cookies to everyone who gets the movie references sprinkled through out. Again, I’m a dork. :))