Back in June I participated in Every Damned Day in June. I learned that I just need to sit at the key board and post, something. And then… Life. Or rather motivation waned. Too many things competing for my attention. Writing is something that requires focus, and the absence of other things, mostly people, verbally usually, competing for my attention. That seems to be something of a rarity in this house. A couple of weeks ago I had a bit of a melt down, at work until I could get a lid on it. Then later at home. I likened it to having a pimple that needed to be squeezed. Just a build up of junk that had to come out.
Reflecting I know some of the things I said to some people who genuinely care about me were probably hard to deal with. The whole time I was spewing out my feeling junk I was painfully aware that this wasn’t their fault and that I was unloading in an unhealthy way. In the aftermath I reflected. I considered my options with mental health care. I don’t have a regular therapist. I have mostly avoided them for a few reasons, cost being one, the idea of unloading to a perfect stranger another. I did once visit a psychologist and he was somewhat helpful but the reality of mental health is that fixing the problem requires effort. When people speak of “doing work” at therapy they are not wrong.
So I didn’t find a therapist but I did find some answers. My social life has been awesomely busy. The kind that teenage me dreamed of. Adult me has come to the realisation that I am socially awkward and while partying every weekend SEEMS like fun it takes its toll. And so I realised I have to also plan to NOT go out. I have to plan to stay home and NOT visit people or invite friends over. I am an introvert at heart and I need to have some down time.
So here is to the weekend. To quiet times and maybe some writing.
1. Which do you enjoy more in bed, pain or pleasure?
I am definitely more into pleasure but I do like to include a little pain. A little spank, a little nibble adds to the intensity.
2. Do you like being tickled during sex? Where?
I am not really ticklish so when people try to tickle me it has very little impact. I do like to be stroked gently with the back of someone’s fingernails though. If that counts.
3. Have you ever used feathers during sex?
I do possess a couple of feather ticklers. The kind you buy from the sex shop. They have had a kind of ‘meh’ effect so they aren’t really a go to. If I want to stroke gently I find the fronds of a flogger to have more impact.
4. Do you like to be blindfolded during sex? Why?
This is something that people TALK about but somehow in the heat of the moment these things get forgotten. Although I have had a bit of a realisation that I have developed a habit of being a bit passive when I am having sex and letting my partner dictate things. Even when he asks what I want I defer to what I think he wants. During a session with The Divorcee realised I have to be more pushy. So the restraints may happen in our future. He has mentioned he wants to. So I just have to make it happen.
5. Have you ever used cold or heat as part of your sex play? What was provided, the cold or the heat?
When pleasuring myself at home I sometimes enjoy the coolness of my glass dildo in those first few moments before it is warmed by my body. But extreme like putting it in the freezer. Not yet. Maybe with someone I trusted to administer it. It is early days but I like the idea of making a little to do list with The Divorcee.
6. Do you enjoy being spanked, giving spankings, or both?
Both. Some people have very delicious bums that are very very spankable. I also like the feel of being spanked. Sometimes over a knee. Sometimes while I have a cock buried deep inside me.
7. Do you have a safe word? Have you ever used it?
Mr Jones and I have had a joke for many years about “Pineapple” being our safe word. For the record neither of us have ever had to use it. Partly because we are pretty in tune with how the other is faring and partly because we don’t go to extremes all that often.
The only time I have ever really made a safe word was during a weekend we spent with a couple earlier in the year. It didn’t go particularly well. Needless to say that despite making and me using the safe word, he ignored it. I had to repeat the agreed word and then the more standard “red” several times before his wife stepped in. It has made me even more cautious about those kinds of situations.
Over the last twelve months #boatlife has been a struggle. La Niña has not been kind to those who live on the Eastern Seaboard of Australia. Summer was very wet. Winter has been wet, windy and cold. And now we have been informed that we will have a third consecutive year of La Niña.
But sometimes the sun shines and the days are perfect. I was lucky enough to have one of those. I was even luckier to have good friends to share it with. After a day of paddle boarding, unexpected discovery of coral in Moreton Bay, climbing sand dunes and spectacular blue water we had a gorgeous sunset to go with our drinks.
Suddenly all of those cold wet days seem insignificant.
During the month of June I participated in EverydamneddayinJune. A meme that strongly encouraged daily posting or at the very least three times a week posting. I was successful and being involved helped to create some momentum that continued until recently. Over the last couple of weeks it has all gotten a bit much and even though I am having some ideas and even starting a couple of pieces they are still languishing in my drafts pile.
Deep down I know the reason why. I am an over achiever and currently have allowed myself to take on another hobby / project. This project is actually one The Unicorn is starting for herself but I am currently finding myself fascinated by shiny lycra and UV reactive mesh. Not to mention the cute and somewhat saucy prints from a particular Australian Manufacturer.
I am proud of my creations
But they are taking up a bit of my time and brain space. And so I think I need to bring my focus back to this baby. I will be turning 50 in mid September. Let us see if I can post most days until then.
In a recent TMI post I alluded to a fall out with a long term friend. Without going into to much detail this was probably one of the deepest friendships I had experienced in my life. As a result of the combination of the isolated location of my childhood home and my parent’s self absorption I grew up without learning exactly how to make a friend. I have never had a BFF or ever really a lot of friends. It is something that has always bothered me. I am very self conscious of not being cool or even feeling like people would actually like to be friends with me. So when a person comes along that does get past all of the layers and seems to get me it is a rare experience.
Over the years this friendship probably showed a lot of signs of not being all that healthy. Certainly my “friend” had her own childhood traumas which had left scars. But I chose to accept them and make allowances. Over the last few years we “drifted apart”. At least that is how she explained it. I more saw it as her finding other people who were more interesting to hang out with but po-ta-to / po-tah-to.
Then, as the universe tends to, we seemed to be pushed back together again. She started making overtures and I accepted them, cautiously. She insisted on telling everyone who would listen about our long term friendship and trying to make it up to me by telling other people how cool she thought I was. It felt a bit weird, if I am being honest, and I wasn’t sure how to deal with it.
It seemed like things were getting back to the way they used to be. But as our good friend Pandora knows, once the box is open you can’t close it again. I had lived my life and grown as a person. Likewise her life had gone on and she had changed slightly as well. The fit was never going to be the same.
While dealing with her traumas and life struggles she had said and done some things that caused some mutual friends to be, at best, wary of her. Some people she had downright ostracised. This caused issues. I had to negotiate social situations where I was basically forced to choose between groups of friends. It was frustrating. I wanted to be loyal to this person who had been in my life for so long but I also needed to take care of myself. I had grown and that meant I had a better sense of my value. I knew that I deserved to be treated better. A friend who treats you as something that can be picked up and dropped at their convenience is not really a friend.
I wasn’t sure how to deal with her. I had started to realise that just letting her drift in and out was not really going to work this time. I deserved better but the part of me that avoids confrontation mad me avoid addressing the issue. Until I found myself right up against it. I had seen some things that told me she was very unwell. She needed more than a good friend, she needed to see a professional. Somehow I found the courage to tell her my thoughts.
Her reaction was not entirely unexpected. I guess I should have realised that such a self centred person would not have considered that their actions and attitudes contributed to their life catastrophes. In her mind self help memes and feel good Facebook pages were all the counselling she needed.
She made the end of our friendship official on Facebook.
Because of our history I was surprised at how all of this affected me. I was forced to say out loud some things that had bothered me. To name some of her behaviour as abusive. Even now it seems weird to say it. She emotionally abused her husband and her children. She made them feel afraid to express themselves in their own house. She made them feel as if their ideas and needs were less than hers. I wondered if I had failed them by glossing over this stuff. As I looked around with more open eyes I saw how my opinion of people had been coloured by hers. How I had dismissed people because of her say so and “facts” she had provided. I felt duped and I questioned my integrity.
On a deeper level I mourned the loss of that friendship. At one time it had been a healthy one. Even if it hadn’t been for several years. It was once and I had lived in hope that it would be again sometime. This is where the self love comes in. Loving yourself sometimes requires you to push people away when you can see that they are harming you. Even when they are people you once loved. Even when you feel as if you don’t have a lot of friends. Self love is about making conscious choices to be your authentic self and not someone else’s play thing. In the long run you will become stronger and more self sufficient and you will attract the same type of people. Suddenly you will also have friends who will treat you like someone worth something.
This post is part of Wicked Wednesday’s final Bingo prompt. The square I have chosen for this post is “Self Love”
1. Does your smartphone have a grip on you? In one hour, how often do you check your phone? a. I am glued to my phone. I check it every 1-2 minutes; it is satisfying. b. I check it 1-2 times per hour. c. I check my phone only when I get notifications, and I don’t get many. d. I check at lunch time and at the end of the day mostly, unless I get a notification.
It is really a combination of b. and d. I don’t take my phone to class and so am not constantly checking it but I do check it more frequently when I am at my desk.
2. Israeli spyware Pegasus* marketed and sold to other governments is used to spy on activists, journalists, and political leaders. Do you believe hackers are monitoring your smartphone?
There have been too many times that I have been talking about something and then suddenly Facebook is showing me ads about that thing for me to NOT believe it. Do I sound like a conspiracy theorist? Probably, but there it is.
3. When in flight, on an airplane, do you put your phone in flight mode?
Yes. There isn’t a message on the planet that can’t wait until the plane lands. Plus it preserves the battery.
4. What is the lock on your smartphone? a. facial recognition b. fingerprint c. numerical code d. pattern e. I don’t lock my phone
Facial recognition has changed my life!!
5. Do mobile phones interfere with your relationship(s)? How?
I think one of the saddest things is seeing a couple out at dinner both sitting on their phones and not really being in the moment with each other. That has GOT to have an impact. For me if I am trying to give a “go away” vibe to Mr Jones I will have my phone in my hand. If I am having a proper conversation with him I will put away my screen so that I can focus on him.
Bonus: In line with the theme I am sharing the last three images on my phone.
I usually keep my “Gemma life” very separate from “Mrs Jones” life. But a situation happened at work recently that prompted this story.
“Hey guys, nice to see you.” The Academic Leader, Simon, greeted the mug shots as they popped on to the screen.
“Hey there,” John settled into his chair. After two years zoom meetings still seemed weird to him. Beside him his colleague donned his headphones and logged in to the same meeting. Unlike John Travis was what they call a digital native. He was at ease with this kind of meeting. Even being cheeky enough to work on other tasks during the meeting.
“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. 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. John twitched in his seat as the sound of her voice triggered the same 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 worksheets for upcoming lessons. John found Travis’ energy tiring most days. He 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,”
The familiar tingle increased as John looked at Rowan’s face on the 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 feeling his own body echoing in response.
“I know other schools are taking a very different approach and it really works.” John could feel the unfamiliar stirring of his cock. He hoped the meeting would end soon he didn’t know if he could contain his reaction.
Simon managed to shut the debate down even though John knew, and he allowed himself a wry smile at the thought, that the discussion was far from over. 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. Most of his colleagues had left for the day and he stood beside his desk looking around the empty office. The memory of Rowan’s voice was still strong and he felt a tightening in his pants.
Quickly he picked up his car keys and exited the office. As he walked his erection grew. He felt as if he could hear her walking behind him. The feeling increased his arousal. Once inside his car he sat breathing heavily. Before he even realised he was fumbling with his zipper, desperate to free his dick. His hand wrapped around his shaft and began an unfamiliar shuffle. His old wrists complained but he couldn’t stop. His dick was harder than he could remember it being for a long time. He imagined her face looking at him as he stroked, demanding him to continue.
He felt the unfamiliar pressure building. The feeling of a dam about to burst. It had been so long 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.