My heart…

…belongs to him.

All these months on and still I can’t…

…stop thinking about him

…stop wanting him

…stop loving him

…think about looking for someone else.

I’ve tried, other sites, looking at other profiles, I just don’t want to. I don’t want to talk to anyone new, even in real life.


My Journey – part one

The tagline for this blog is ‘My BDSM Journey’ so two weeks and ten posts in I suppose I really should write a little bit about it, don’t you?

A very brief history of my sex life: First kiss at 11, first sexual fumblings at 13, lost my virginity (maybe I should say cherry?) at 14. First started masturbating at around that age too. Was I a late starter? I don’t know what the average age is but even with the experiences I’d had I was never really interested in sex, I didn’t particularly enjoy it whilst at the same time I loved it, I can’t work that one out at all, I think I just love having a cock inside me. But I discovered my clit at about the same time I came across a stash of porn mags, oh how things changed! I flicked through them, pictures of all sorts of bits in all sorts of positions. Women touching themselves, touching each other, men touching women, cocks and cunts, mouths hands, dildos, and the stories. I found the stories worked better because I could imagine myself in them rather than trying to put myself in a photo. I fantasised about all of it. Sex with women, sex with men, sex with more than one person at a time, being licked, sucked and fucked while I made my self come.

It was usually the stories involving bondage and being used that I enjoyed the most, soon I had abandoned the magazines and was inventing my own scenarios. I would casually bring up the subject of being tied up with whoever I was fucking and only one guy actually did tie me up but he obviously had as much knowledge of the subject as I did. When I said ‘No, stop.’ As you do, he did. He untied me and that was about it. That happened when I was 19. After that I had to wait until I was 38 for my next willing partner. That was a bit better, but it was still pretty tame compared to what I actually wanted and afterwards I had to tie him up, which really didn’t interest me. But I loved that relationship, loved him. He was the one who started me back on the road to liking myself again and he’s the only man who ever actually made me come.

So we hop through another few years of one night stands, short relationships and one longer one, none of which helped me scratch my itch for bondage or orgasm. I then gave up on men for a while (five years). I was going through a lot of personal and family stuff and I made the decision to concentrate on myself and my kids. I started doing a full time college course and it was the best thing I’ve ever done. I’ve struggled with depression for most of my life and had a 20+ year relationship with a twat. I knew I was a nice person, funny, smart, creative but I had trouble convincing myself that I really was that person, but the course really turned me around. Gave me more confidence, helped to believe that my thoughts and opinions were valid.I was still masturbating though less often, the fantasies got darker, the orgasms still happening sometimes but I was losing interest.

Last year I felt ready to try and find myself a man so I signed up to OKC (again). I live in a small town and as there are very few single men in the eligible category, online dating is really my only option. OKC is my favourite site, easy to sign up and more importantly easy to delete your profile. All I wanted was to meet up with someone once in a while, have dinner, some good conversation and a shag. Not really much to ask? I wasn’t even looking for a kinky partner, just a cock and some adult contact. My profile was rubbish to be honest, my photo was a profile head shot of me in sunglasses (I hate looking at myself in photos) I filled in all the basics; age, height, hair, eye colour, kids, dogs or cats etc. and some really basic information on my interests with the intention of going back and adding more at a later date. I got loads of messages – the usual cast of weirdos and men after money or visas, a lot of young lads ranging in age from 18-23, and a couple from guys in the right age range and at least in the same country. There were even a couple of kinky ones in there but there wasn’t really anyone I wanted to meet. Until I got THE message. It was pretty long for a first message (good), he asked me questions (very good) and he made me laugh (very, very good). So I took a look at his profile, it was almost what I would have written if I had filled out my profile. And he was tall! (I have a thing for tall men.) I replied and we chatted away for a few days, this was over the Christmas holidays, but early in the New Year we arranged a meeting.

And I’ll tell you a bit more about that very soon.

The Lost Art of Conversation?

I decided to write this post because of a couple of conversations I’ve had about online dating, dating in general and people just not communicating.

I have terrible trouble making small talk with people I don’t know, I avoid it as much as possible. I rarely go out and when I do because I live in a small town there isn’t very much to do apart from walking. I have one friend I go for coffee with occasionally but the people I talk to in the real world are few and far between. I think one of the reasons I have such a problem is that I don’t know anything about the things people seem to be talking about. There is no point of connection, nothing in common. I was going to use some of the trending topics on Twitter as they are usually about people I’ve never heard of – this morning it’s all about GCSE’s, GBBO and Ashley Madison, all things I know about, typical 🙂 But, I don’t have TV channels at home, no cable or satellite, I really only watch Netflix at the weekends (if we can find something to watch). I have no interest in sport or celebrities. I don’t watch the news, soaps or reality shows. I have little or no interest in the latest tech gadgets. I read a lot, I write, paint, do crafts, I love old films, I like music, photography, history, archaeology and plenty more besides.

I wouldn’t say the art of conversation is completely lost, it’s just a lot of people seem to have forgotten (or never learned) how to have a conversation. It’s easier if you are face to face with someone but online? The majority of my online conversations have been on dating websites and most have been a disaster. If I received a message from someone, even if it was just ‘Hi.’, ‘How’r’ya?’ ‘What’s the craic?’ I would at least look at their profile, it’s not easy to send a message to a total stranger, we all fear rejection. But if they haven’t even written one thing about themselves how can I start talking to them? I’ve tried it. Days of asking them about themselves – what they do for a living, do they like films, music, books, dinosaurs or pink fluffy unicorns – I got very little back. Working, not working, studying, yes, yes, no – it was like pulling teeth. I can talk to people, I know a lot of shit about a lot of stuff, I can even talk about Xbox, Playstation and Youtubers if I have to (I have teenagers) but the main thing I need is for people to actually talk back, take part, contribute. I used to put it down to the rise in use of tech; smartphones, the internet, Facebook etc. but I know plenty of people online who can still have conversations. It’s not even an age thing – I think a lot of it has to do with interest. If you are interested in something (or someone) you can talk about it (or to them) for hours, the problem is finding that first little connection and it’s hard when you’re exchanging messages online. Here’s hoping I never have to go back to that.

Some of the things I get to talk about now; The weather (we live in Ireland – have to get that out of the way), work (his), work (mine – painting, writing), the kids (his and mine), crappy TV, wine, chocolate, food, sex, travel, books, the interweb, schools, ‘free’ education, music, history, astronomy, sex toys, holidays, gardening, decorating, bondage, films, jam, bread making, pain, when we were kids, what if we’d met years ago, news, politics, religion, art, wanking, photography, ex’s, sexism, feminism, patriarchy, misogyny, moving, marriage, my scrawny arse, pubs, weekends away, superheroes, comics, spanking, being poor, if we were rich, restraints, chocolate sponge and custard (wrong!), tea, coffee, biscuits, caning, getting old, walking, stone circles, crows, rooks and jackdaws, outdoor sex, clothes, shoes, Netflix, online dating, beer, collars, housework, shopping, train travel, anal sex, being tired, wanting more time together, physics, maths, computers, my tits, glasses, hair, beards, stoves, coal, wood, turf, the damp (Ireland again), sex with other people, sci-fi, aliens, time travel, neighbours, languages, words, DIY, tools, orgasms (mine, lack of), age, contraception, menopause, ropes, shaving, plucking, waxing, make-up, belts, poetry, writers, pointless celebrities, stockings, high heels, short skirts, hard ons, mythology, Green Men, hares, Discworld, Disney, fairy tales, BDSM, my going to college, online courses, smoking, houses, sex blogs, technology, phones, tattoos, rings, piercings, fantasies, the sea, tourists, locals, the mountains, my submission, being a blow-in, hypocrisy, fairness, equality, lack of sleep, life, the universe and everything.

My favourite topics of conversation? Those would be the ones about being his good girl, the things he wants to do to me, being his dirty little tart, the things he wants me to do, my being horny and wet, his needy, greedy little slut.