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 Menopause and Me

A few days ago I wrote a post about not being able to sleep and afterwards I came across a post by Marie Rebel about not sleeping because of the menopause which she wrote as part of The Menopause Diaries. This was one thing I hadn’t thought about. Reading through the list of symptoms I note that I have had most of them ever since I started having periods – no help there then.

In all honesty I have been longing for the day I finally reach menopause, I hate my periods, I always have. Before I had children I could spend up to 3 weeks of each month in severe pain, feeling sick and bloated, I’m sure some of you know how bad it can be and the only medical advice I got? “Learn to live with it.” I think after my third child things improved – I was down to a few days of feeling shitty. Fast forward through the years and my periods were still heavy, not to be disgusting but I had to change pads every couple of hours and frequently bled through. The good thing is that I had no pain or discomfort and they only lasted three days. I have been on Depo for contraception since January and all I have is occasional spotting and no other problems – bliss.

Even though I knew I was heading for the menopause I had never heard of peri-menopause, until last October. I have always struggled with depression and mood swings, which I’m pretty sure are linked to my hormones, but over the last five years or so I have learned to manage it. (I don’t take medication and haven’t had counselling, the reasons for which I’m not going to discuss here.)

Around Halloween last year I started to feel really bad again, not the way I usually felt during depressive phases but let’s just say it wasn’t nice. I couldn’t think straight, I developed a massive crush on someone that was never going to go anywhere, I started to get anxious in situations that had never been a problem before. By the end of it I had stopped going to college, I stopped my voluntary work and I pretty much just stayed home unless I had to go out. I started getting the symptoms I always got when I was pregnant – I was even contemplating doing a test. I hadn’t even kissed a man for five years how the hell could I be pregnant? But I was convinced I was. So off I headed to Google, the fount of all knowledge and typed in ‘pregnancy symptoms menopause’ and found page after page of women with the same thing. The strange thing is that as with dealing with my depression, knowing what’s causing the problem makes it easier to cope with. So long as I can remember to remind myself 🙂  and I think the Depo has helped even out the hormonal swings.

The big issue I’m having with it all is orgasms – or lack of them. I’ve never had a problem making myself come (although only one man was ever able to do it) but over the last couple of years it got more and more difficult to have an orgasm. I’m now at the stage where I don’t even try any more. After a long dry spell I’m now in a relationship and the sex is great, I have no issues with my libido or dryness thankfully but I still haven’t been able to have what I would call a proper orgasm – one of those cunt pulsating, full body, OH MY GOD! FUCK! YES! orgasms that I miss. I have to say that we don’t make my having an orgasm the main aim of sex, we enjoy it anyway, but I know he’d love to make me come and I’d love it too. I know that the contraception I use can affect the ability to have an orgasm but I’ve had this problem since before I started using it so the only thing I can put it down to is the fact that I’m getting older and the menopause is looming. I can only hope that it’s not permanent.

The Menopause Diaries