My aquatic journey is coming to an end. Unfortunately, due to some life changes I am not sure when we will have another. But I want to share this image snapped my Mr Jones. We are still learning all the “tricks” of this new camera but sometimes we get gems.
Internet meme culture is full of self help advice about setting boundaries. Maybe it is the good old algorithm or maybe it is just a glitch but my social media feed throws images like this
at me frequently. Whatever the case I have recently encountered two people who have taught me a lot about my own personal boundaries.
The first one was The Orgasm Miner. My time with him has been turbulent to say the least. Out connection was deep and I trusted him. I let him in to my emotions and thoughts with almost no restrictions. I allowed him to say and behave however he saw fit because I wanted to prove to him, and myself, that I was worthy. For his part he overstepped. He stomped around in my feelings throwing emotional bombs in response to his own opinions and feelings with very little concern for mine. Setting boundaries in that situation has been hard. Hard because for some reason I am afraid of not being enough and because he triggers this weird response in me of needing to be approved of.
The second person is the female half of a couple Mr Jones and I have spent a bit of time with. This couple are new to swinging and we have worked to build a friendship with them that is based on shared experiences rather than physical attraction. I found myself having a conversation with Mrs about boundaries. She struggles to watch her husband with other women. I thought with my small head and when approached by Mr, I responded the way I always do with lifestyle people. I assumed he was free to interact with me.
Turns out he wasn’t. And I witnessed some very nasty, manipulative behaviour on her part. In the wash up I told her that her boundaries are hers to set and she has a right to expect them to be respected. What I didn’t share with her was that my personal thoughts about her behaviour are that she is being extremely selfish in her attitude to non-monogamy. She is placing restrictions on her husband that don’t reflect the freedom she is demanding for herself. However, that is very much something they need to sort out for themselves and not something I want to get caught up in.
Which brings me to my own boundaries. I don’t do drama. Particularly female drama that is geared around controlling other people’s behaviour. My acquaintance seems to enjoy creating drama. And, in my opinion she also feels most comfortable when her husband is firmly under her thumb. Consequently, when I found myself witnessing her jealousy I made a conscious choice to put my clothes back on and step away from her husband. Not because I don’t want to fuck him. Not because I think I did anything wrong. But because I don’t want to get involved in that shit.
On the surface these experiences seem to be very different. The Orgasm Miner needed to be put in his place. Or more precisely I needed to give myself permission to step back and establish a boundary for him. I needed to remind him that he doesn’t get to abuse the trust I placed in him by opening the door to some of the most intimate parts of my life. Establishing and communicating with him exactly what is and is not acceptable behaviour is a work in progress.
My female acquaintance didn’t disrespect my boundaries. Mostly because they served to give her what she wanted. However in creating this situation she is now reaping the consequences which are not really what she wanted and may have some longer term ramifications on her marriage. For me I am sad that two friendships have been hampered by all this but I am feeling a little empowered because I was able to set a boundary and enforce it. While I wasn’t entirely happy with events surrounding this I am feeling stronger about my ability to create a space for myself that is safe and ethical.
In essence these two things have been opposite sides of the same coin. They have taught me what happens when I DON’T set and maintain a boundary and on the flip side how setting an maintaining boundaries, while it doesn’t always get what you want in the immediate future, does allow you to look in the mirror and know you are doing the right thing.
As Missy from Focussed and Filthy pointed out in her Sinful Sunday post this week Pineapples have been adopted by many swingers as a symbol to express their lifestyle. I first became aware of this through a lifestyle acquaintance who has an inverted pineapple tattoo on her shoulder. She thinks it is hilarious to reply to randoms in shopping centres who point out her pineapple is upside down with “It doesn’t look upside down to me!” Of course this reply can be interpreted two ways and she is not particularly worried about which way people take it.
For me, I am a little more circumspect about advertising my lifestyle to people in my vanilla world. However I was more than a little amused when I found a pineapple in a very large pack of Lego that I purchased for use in my classes at school. I decided that I could keep that tiny thing and display my own tendencies in a very subtle way at my workplace. So far no one has noticed.
Sometimes on a lazy afternoon after you have had a good session of face in cunt you are lounging around and happen to see some interesting stuff under the table.
There is something undeniably sexy about men who are comfortable enough to enjoy fondling each other’s dicks.
This little gem popped up on my social media the other day.
The first time I heard this expression was about eight years ago. It came out of the mouth of a year 9 (14 – 15 year old) boy. At the time I was discussing with him how his behaviour choices were affecting his grades. He understood, but what he also understood was that school was not a place where he was going to succeed. At least not in a meaningful way to him.
I was a little puzzled at his choice of words and more than a little frustrated with his attitude. It took me several years to fully understand and accept his point of view. Namely that school, and the style of education I was offering simply had no relevance in his world. He was prepared to wear the cost of failing because in his eyes it was a smaller cost than the effort to try and succeed academically. Especially considering that he had a long history of not being successful. But what was more important was that he had accepted this situation. He had accepted that school wasn’t for him but that he had to ride it out.
Fast forward to today and a man I was involved with recently declared that expression as a cop out. At the time I was a little infatuated and trying to impress this man (a topic for another time) so I tried to reconcile my way of thinking to his point of view. I wasn’t really successful with this and as the universe threw some curve balls our way I found myself reverting to the original statement.
Many years ago I encountered a Catholic nun whose work involved supporting refugee families as they tried to settle into Australia with little to no money and about the same amount of support from the government. One of the statements she made almost every day was that “Providence will take care of it!” A more secular interpretation of this became my mantra in the more difficult times of my life “Things work out the way they are meant to.” or “It is what it is.”
As I write this I am contemplating some major life changes. I have been ‘at sea’ for a while and the separation from regular land based life has given me the opportunity to take stock and contemplate where I am headed with things. At the start of my journey I was adamantly saying I wanted to keep working full time for a few more years. I was putting retirement firmly into my future. But now I am remembering how I felt at the end of my last six month voyage. I have looked back at videos I made at the end of the voyage and read some posts I wrote at the time.
Back then i had this very strong sense that the “real world” of jobs and home ownership and busyness that most people give themselves is false. That we spend so much of our lives and energy building financial security, or at least telling ourselves that is what we are doing, that we forget to live. I lost that understanding once I became immersed back into the “real world”.
Along with that busyness comes the idea that we can control many things, including other people. We pit ourselves against things and try to change them to our advantage or spend vast amounts of energy trying to get people to see things from our point of view. But at the end of the day we can only really control ourselves. We can control what we do and say. We can control how we react to the actions of others and how we treat them. And that is it. When life throws a curve ball at you; like someone buying your much loved boat for example, you can shout at fate, or you can say “thank you for paying me a really high price for that” take their money and move on. You cannot change people or the way they behave. No matter how entitled and rude they are.
Like my young friend did, accepting a situation no matter how crap it is makes life more peaceful. Sitting in that acceptance enables you to make rational and more stable decisions and less hasty mistakes that you will regret later. It also, as the meme suggests, makes you less susceptible to being manipulated by toxic people. Accepting that other people’s behaviour is completely their responsibility and completely out of your control gives you the space and peace to push them away if you need to.
And so into the ocean I go, probably on my last voyage for a little while. While it is sad to think this, I am calm in the knowledge that The Universe will unfold as it should and this ending could be the start of another great adventure.
Travelling by yacht is slow. Which is part of the appeal. It does mean though, many hours at the helm watching ocean go by. If you are lucky you will see some sea life or another boat but often these things are few and far between. And so I find myself wishing for some other pleasant activity to while away the hours. Having a face between my thighs perhaps.
What are 5 everyday things that bring you happiness?
Birds
I love watching birds doing their thing. Wether it is an eagle soaring, a lorikeet feeding on flowers or chickens scratching in the garden the sight of birds will always make me happy
A Good Hot Shower
Someone recently told me that very hot showers are actually really bad for your skin. We both agreed, though, that there is nothing like a really hot shower that leaves your skin glowing pink.
Hugs
One of the reasons that I have a soft spot for tall, broad men is that I love the feeling of their arms around me and being able to be enveloped by them. Somehow the feeling of strength flowing in to me makes life all that much easier.
Tea
I only started drinking tea about five years ago. Probably about the time I spent six months on a boat with Mr Jones. However it happened these days if tea is not one of the first things that happens in my morning things don’t feel right.
Clean Sheets on my Bed
Yesterday I washed the sheets from our yacht bunk. Making a bed in a boat cabin is a mission. Getting everything straight and not crinkled is an even bigger mission. But I achieved it. And getting in to bed that night was soooooo nice!
We recently had the yacht out on the hardstand for maintenance. this means it is completely out of the water which is a bit weird. It looks a bit like this.
It is worth noting that part of the maintenance works meant the mast was also removed so she looked extra weird.
For the best part of two weeks we spent a lot of time on the boat out of the water. Which has its challenges; Having to climb a relatively high ladder every time you needed to pee, dust and grime EVERYWHERE and limited privacy. At night though most people go home and you get a bit of a feeling of being somewhere cool. Even take a cheeky shot of a marina at night.
Happy Friday people.
“Hey guys, nice to see you.” Simon, greeted the mug shots as they popped on to the screen for the fortnightly Teams meeting. Meeting this way was a necessary evil for a school with multiple small campuses dotted around the state. Each individual campus only had one or two specialist teacher for each subject. The only way colleagues could share ideas was through meetings like this. Not that they all felt the need. But the powers that be in “The Cloud” felt otherwise and so every fortnight this group gathered to share pleasantries and stories from successful classes.
“Hey there,” John settled into his chair. After forty years of teaching he was used to this kind of meeting. But after sixty years of life he was definitely not a fan of this impersonal kind of communication. Beside him Travis, his colleague, donned his headphones and logged in to the same meeting. While John was winding down his career and making plans for fading quietly into the background Travis was at the opposite end of his career. Full of energy and bright ideas. Also not invested in Science. He usually spent these meetings nodding away but actually working on some other work.
“They can’t see me doing that stuff,” he explained to John. “The camera sees me at my desk. I can hear what is being said. If I need to contribute I will.” No loss to anyone and the whole meeting isn’t a complete waste of time.”
John could never bring himself to do that. Listening to a conversation and concentrating on work was too much for him. So he sat through the stupid meeting and dreamed about retiring.
“Helllooo everyone, sorry for being a bit late,” The broad tones of a Scottish lass pricked John’s ears. He twitched in his seat as the sound of her voice triggered a tingle in his lower regions.
“No worries Rowan.” Simon reassured her before he began his usual spiel. John looked over at Travis typing furiously, responding to emails and constructing activities for upcoming lessons. Travis’ energy seemed tiring most days. John longed for a quiet life. One where he could go about his life with minimal disruption and be safe in the knowledge that if anything didn’t work in his classroom it was most definitely not anything to do with his teaching but rather his students’ shortcomings.
The meeting droned on. John stifled a yawn. He really didn’t need to hear most of this stuff. Anything really important would be relayed by Travis. Then without warning there was a change in the tone of the meeting.
“In my experience,” Rowan’s voice remained calm despite the intensity John could feel, “this kind of practise never works for young people. We should be thinking a little bit more outside the box,”
Despite himself the tingle in John’s pants became more insistent. He found himself focussing intently on Rowan’s face in a tiny square at the bottom of his screen. It was so hard to read expressions in the little mug shots but it didn’t matter; her voice was what he was responding to. There was a break in the sound of her accent as Simon tried to placate her. But she wasn’t having it.
“I disagree,” Was that a slight increase in volume? John listened intently to the tones of her voice. Unfamiliar heat coursed through him. Why did his pants suddenly feel tight. He glanced sideways at Travis typing furiously beside him, oblivious.
“I know other schools are taking a very different approach and it really works.” Rowan’s voice was firm, her accent more pronounced. In his mind John pictured himself as a student in her class being reprimanded by this diminutive woman. The juxtaposition of her stature and the power she radiated did nothing to calm what was now a full blown erection straining at his zipper.
Simon managed to shut the debate down. More because everyone wanted to go home than because he resolved the dispute. John allowed himself a wry smile this woman wasn’t a pushover. The whoosh sound of everyone logging off from the meeting rang in John’s ears as he removed his headphones. He stood beside his desk looking around the office. Travis had already high tailed it to the carpark. No one else was in sight. Rowan’s lilting voice was still ringing in his ears as he picked up his car keys and made his way to his car.
As he walked his erection grew it was as if she was walking beside him. As he reached his car his pants were uncomfortably tight. He slipped into the seat and fumbled with his zip. He was oblivious to the possibility of anyone seeing him. The only thing he could think about was the urgency of his dick and the sound of her voice admonishing him. His hand wrapped around his shaft and began an unfamiliar shuffle. His old wrists complained but he couldn’t stop. In his mind she was watching him sternly critiquing the size and appearance of his cock.
His dick was harder than he could remember it being for a long time. The speed of his hand increase in response to the unfamiliar pressure building at the base of his cock. The feeling of a dam about to burst. It had been so long since he felt this feeling but he couldn’t stop now, even if he wanted to. His breath was hot and hard and his hips bucked against the car seat. Heat surged through him and a dribble of cum covered his hand. Even his ejaculation was out of practise. He sagged back against the car seat breathing heavily. His dick receding back into its usual shell.
After a few moments his mind cleared and he looked down at the white liquid splashed over his wrist. A string of fluid bridged the tip of his cock with the fingers that had just been stroking it. He looked around the empty carpark. He couldn’t believe what he had just done. Wanking in the seat of his car like a dirty old man. He used the rag he kept behind the driver’s seat to wipe his hand clean all the time wondering what his wife would say if she knew. Worse what would Rowan say?
He squirmed imagining her displeasure. Then his heart sank as he remembered. It would be two weeks until he heard her voice again.
I saw this meme in my vanilla social media. For about five minutes I constructed the text below in response but the whole time I knew expressing this opinion in that forum was not going to end well. At best it would ruffle a few feathers but at worst it could cause a shitstorm amongst people who I know personally. It could be argued that some of these people need to be told but I have been in enough social media comment wars to know when to keep my opinions to myself. On this page however I am queen so you can all hear what I have to say and know that you have made my life better because I am able to vent in a safe space.
Like so many things “I never used in life” learning a musical instrument (albeit an extremely annoying one) has many hidden lessons that cannot be quantified or the benefits shown fully. As an educator, posts like this irritate the fuck out of me. They make our work seem pointless and fuels the idea that it is OK to have disrespect for educators and education in general. Nothing grinds my gears than a parent or a student asking this question in the middle of a lesson. It’s right up there with the idea that school is just somewhere to pass the time until a job lands in their lap and one day someone will pay you to turn up and spend the day looking at your phone.
Memes like the one above are written by parents who re-enforce these ideas. If you don’t like what your kid is being taught in school then perhaps you should be more involved in their education. Perhaps parents who write these kinds of statements should be forced to homeschool their offspring for a while and take responsibility to teach their own children things THEY think are useful.
Many teachers will acknowledge that the education system is very, very flawed. We know how it fails more than half of our charged. We know some of the government mandated rubbish we have to teach is just that, rubbish. But what is worse is being asked to teach things that parents should be teaching. Things like how to behave with respect towards other humans, how to speak in sentences and that someone is not going to pick up their rubbish for them.
I teach because I believe that education is the key to a better future for many kids. I work in an alternative school because I recognise that mainstream schooling is a fucked up place for many kids and teachers. This kind of shit, illustrated above does nothing to help me convince my Young People that they need education for a better life. It also does nothing to help change the system so it does work better. It is just a cheap shot that helps the poster get a few social media likes.
Rant over.
Corrupting Mrs Jones 