Sorry it’s been awhile, I’ve been traveling internationally and I put “write post” on my to do list before I left, but I never got around to feeling comfortable enough in my parent’s house to blog. I don’t know how a place that birthed my sexual experimentation inspires frigidity. Forgive me; it’s been a few weeks since I’ve masturbated. But now that I am back in this country, and my apartment, the blog will continue.
I have been thinking a lot too about the topic; I always find that with a new interest (or an old interest that rejoins the pack) my mind starts wandering to new ideas and sexual possibilities. My fantasy sex life is always more exciting and vibrant than the real deal.
I really think, that my kink involves something verbal. The porn that gets me off these days are the ones where there’s a lot of back and forth. I’ve also been getting really excited by the idea of forced orgasms. I think this is the most productive aspect of BDSM that I have seen (besides all the role play and the ability to be bossy). I think this is super sexy and I think pretty easy to accomplish with a guy; I mean they’re always hard! There’s something particularly humiliating and fantastic about a forced male orgasm, especially when that’s your intention, yet you are trying to make them hold back. The level of disappointment can be wonderful to work with. If anyone has any experience I would love to know what you think, what you’ve done, and how you’ve done it. Just thinking about this gets me all jittery. There is so much room for humiliation play just in the guys inability to control his erection. Absolutely wonderful, and since I love, love playing with cocks to begin with, I see some future in this.
I’m also back on the idea of a strap on. Truthfully, I was never 100% into it. I’m not a butt person, but I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m coming around. But I wonder if I would just feel silly, I mean, I get wet giving head, and they make those belts that have a vibrator in them for the wearer, so that could be a positive. I am still not closer to shelling out the $$ yet though, so actual use is far away. But I have an idea and I might share it as fiction to see what everyone thinks.
Back to my childhood, it really baffles me. I just could never get in the right mind frame to think sexy, and with no material (since I have no regular mens) it was like there was a sexual desire firewall. This is the same home that I let my high school boyfriend sneak into after I had to be home for curfew and my parents went to bed. This is the same house that I used to throw parties in and host just as an excuse to get the boy I fancied at that moment into my house and into my clutches. This house witnessed many firsts, of mine as well as m friends! With all this rich history of deviant adolescent sexual promiscuity, you would think I could at least settle in enough to masturbate, nope.
I think it had to do with a particular date; I just celebrated my 27th birthday. I am a year older, maybe a little wiser. But still single and therefore still defective in some of my family’s eyes. It’s not that they don’t love me, it’s that they worry.
I had a conversation with my mother where she basically asked me if I am choosing this life of intense yet unfulfilling useless relationships and do I ever plan on settling down. And now at 27 I got to thinking, does settling down mean I have to settle? Because if that’s the case, I accept my cougar badge now and I’m going to start getting to work on my Rolodex.
Showing posts with label my mother. Show all posts
Showing posts with label my mother. Show all posts
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Wonder Leah/Train Rides with Mom
Thursday evening I went to “In the Flesh” the monthly reading series @ Happy Endings lounge to meet and hear fellow blogger Marcelle Manhattan share some of her naughty stories. She did a great job and it was wonderful to finally meet the woman behind it all. Thank you to all the writers and readers who had the courage to stand in front of a room full of people and talk about the intimate goings on of your sex life including a romp with Santa, the exact shaving style of one’s “bits”, an erotic haiku, a walk down memory lane to an S&M restaurant with Topaz and her mystery man and much more. I had a great time and I am grateful that you guys have the stones to get up there and share. It truly does help timid old me break through some of my insecurities to see women talk so candidly about being turned on. It definitely got my writing gears turning, expect more from me in 2008! Talking with Marcelle it really got me thinking…she mentioned how she never felt like she belonged growing up in the south. I think if we all step out of our kinky closets no woman (or outsider for that matter) would have to feel uncomfortable for ascribing to a different set of social norms. I was going to post about where are all my positive dominant female women role models? But I need to be that person for myself, for all the little M. Leah’s out there who are still in college trying to figure out this stuff. If I can help one girl avoid an awkward hookup, complete with blowjob and no satisfaction then perhaps I have made a difference ☺. But seriously, I don’t know why we teach women to be afraid of their sexual desires and package them in tight little boxes that are to be exchanged for either gifts or feelings. I am not saying you shouldn’t be a considerate lover, but things do not end with male ejaculation. I do not know who spread this belief, but women need to reclaim their sexual practices for their own benefit and remove this awful idea of gift exchange from their orgasm and critically examine the way we interact when the lights go down and the clothes come off. I think this is the new barrier. The uncontested sexual mores of hook-up culture and the social environment we are bringing our girls into.
** Excuse me while I get off my soapbox**
The best part of the night however was not the reading or exposing my mother to erotic literature; it was the train ride home on the long island railroad. Oh did I forget to say that m mom came with me? Silly me. My mom came with me to an erotic reading. She grew up in a different time in a different culture, but she has a little bit of the voyeur bug in her. I do too, but I also stick my toe in from time to time (ok, sometimes I just go skinny dipping, but you get the metaphor, I don’t need to kill it). We got little bottles of wine and boarded our train home. We talked about the readers, we talked about men, and we talked about sex. She still is trying to come to terms with the fact that heterosexual people would want to do anal. Bless her little heart. Imagine having this conversation with your mom, it was hilarious. I was trying to educate her and shock her at the same time. She’s such a tightly wound person that I was hoping that this entire experience would help her loosen up a little. And of course under the influence of my train station libations I probably said a little too much. I explained the joys of prostate massages to my mother. I had my mom blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl. Yes, I basically told my mom to stick a finger in my dad’s ass. What type of daughter am I? Maybe she’ll be a little happier and perhaps being more adventurous in the bedroom will make her more adventurous in the world. I wonder if she’ll try it, wait…I don’t want to know. There are some things that are still sacred.
Merry Christmas!!!
** Excuse me while I get off my soapbox**
The best part of the night however was not the reading or exposing my mother to erotic literature; it was the train ride home on the long island railroad. Oh did I forget to say that m mom came with me? Silly me. My mom came with me to an erotic reading. She grew up in a different time in a different culture, but she has a little bit of the voyeur bug in her. I do too, but I also stick my toe in from time to time (ok, sometimes I just go skinny dipping, but you get the metaphor, I don’t need to kill it). We got little bottles of wine and boarded our train home. We talked about the readers, we talked about men, and we talked about sex. She still is trying to come to terms with the fact that heterosexual people would want to do anal. Bless her little heart. Imagine having this conversation with your mom, it was hilarious. I was trying to educate her and shock her at the same time. She’s such a tightly wound person that I was hoping that this entire experience would help her loosen up a little. And of course under the influence of my train station libations I probably said a little too much. I explained the joys of prostate massages to my mother. I had my mom blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl. Yes, I basically told my mom to stick a finger in my dad’s ass. What type of daughter am I? Maybe she’ll be a little happier and perhaps being more adventurous in the bedroom will make her more adventurous in the world. I wonder if she’ll try it, wait…I don’t want to know. There are some things that are still sacred.
Merry Christmas!!!
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Made in her image
I just purchased “The Secret” on DVD for my mother for the holidays. I wonder; how am I related to this woman? She asked for it, so I obliged, mind you she already has the book, the audio book and now the DVD [over consumption at its best] don’t get me wrong, I love my mother. I am fiercely loyal to her and protective over her, but I seriously wonder how she spawned a child like me and if she regrets some of the decisions I have made and secretly wishes that I was different, a child she could claim, a child built in her image.
She’s had a hard life and she deserves happiness that is true. But she’s not going to find it in “the secret”. Of course I made the mistake of using this request to push her. On 1- why she couldn’t go on Amazon herself and buy it and 2- why does she need ANOTHER copy of this piece of shit? [I’m not going to even go into what the secret claims, because then I might just make my head explode with unfounded self-help nonsense] Whenever we talk about things, I always try to push her to do something, to be able to do things for herself. No she doesn’t need my father to go on the internet, yes the first few times will be challenging, but after awhile she should be able to handle it and do it faster, and won’t she feel more accomplished and satisfied if she can do it herself?
I love her, I do, but it’s hard sometimes. She wants more from her life but she is so desperately afraid of trying anything new that forces her to push herself that I always seem to get into this same fight with her.
I am independent and an aggressive go-getter. I purposefully put myself in uncomfortable situations to see if I can get out of them and learn from them. She does not; she’s slightly agoraphobic and looks towards cosmetic surgery, social acceptance, and mainstream commercialization for validation. While I do too at some points in my life, it always bothers me and while I acquiesce, I do it begrudgingly.
Example: I was born with a genetic disorder; I am missing some growth plates. One of my toes never grew, so all through adolescence I had this stumpy 4th toe that sat on the top of my foot. I was brutally protective about it while at the same time ashamed of it. It made me who I was and I didn’t want it changed. Whenever I went to the doctor my mother would always prod them about the possibility of corrective surgery and if it would have long term affects on my posture, or my development. It never would. It was just a little stumpy toe. Because of her pressure I had cosmetic surgery to fix it that required me to put two metal screws in my bones, break the bone in the middle and every day turn the device a quarter of a turn to grow the bone in the middle. The result, I can wear gorgeous heels and sandals and have no visible deformity. However, whenever people ask, I say that it was not a cosmetic procedure and that it was affecting my walk, my gait and my back alignment. This bothers me to no end. Why couldn’t she be happy with my love/hate relationship with my little toe? I know she just wanted the best, but her insistence on lies and persistence on the surgery will always bother me.
In her mind, I would have gone to college in state, gone to law school right after [a perfectly legitimate career choice] close to home of course, maybe even where my father went, and then moved a few towns over found some sort of husband and popped out 2 grandkids by now all with some low-level law career that allowed me to stay home during my kid’s first 5 years. [She has mentioned this to me, how she wants me to be able to stay home from birth to kindergarten, um, how is that possible if I am supposed to be a career woman?] Perhaps me and Mr. Suburban would have gone to Europe for our honeymoon [our first time of course] been satisfied with that level of travel, moved into a split level ranch and lived happily ever after in our cul-de-sac with our S.U.V. parked in the garage and our 401(k) collecting interest.
Unfortunately that is not the daughter she created. I travel to places that require you to get vaccinations for things I have only heard of on the Oregon Trail. I prefer spreading my love around and traveling all over this great continent to get quality ass which she never understands either and always yells at me to “keep my butt home already”. She wishes I dropped out of grad school for a more “legitimate” job that she can understand and brag about. But I am not that child. I prefer to walk the line of socially acceptable and weirdo. I’m gregarious to her social ineptitude and she never gets my sarcastic sense of humor and always thinks I am making fun of her or putting her down. I try, I really do to try to curb myself around her but it’s hard. I don’t understand her insistence of pleasing everyone. She’s leery of all people and trusts no one, yet always puts herself out there for people in this incredibly vulnerable ways that’s slightly socially awkward so of course it doesn’t go her way. Its just a weird position, to love your mother, worry about her, be sympathetic about her shortcomings, and try to help when she obviously doesn’t want to hear it from you.
She’s not going to find it in the secret though; she’s going to have to find it in herself. I know she wants more, but she needs to figure that it’s not going to come from anybody else except herself and start changing. My father and I are incredibly supportive of her, but she just looks at us with distrust. I don’t know how to handle this, sometimes its just a hard lesson and a hard smack in the face when you realize your parents have faults too and that there’s nothing you can do, or that they don’t want your two cents.
And yes, I did buy her the secret…and a part of me hopes it does work.
She’s had a hard life and she deserves happiness that is true. But she’s not going to find it in “the secret”. Of course I made the mistake of using this request to push her. On 1- why she couldn’t go on Amazon herself and buy it and 2- why does she need ANOTHER copy of this piece of shit? [I’m not going to even go into what the secret claims, because then I might just make my head explode with unfounded self-help nonsense] Whenever we talk about things, I always try to push her to do something, to be able to do things for herself. No she doesn’t need my father to go on the internet, yes the first few times will be challenging, but after awhile she should be able to handle it and do it faster, and won’t she feel more accomplished and satisfied if she can do it herself?
I love her, I do, but it’s hard sometimes. She wants more from her life but she is so desperately afraid of trying anything new that forces her to push herself that I always seem to get into this same fight with her.
I am independent and an aggressive go-getter. I purposefully put myself in uncomfortable situations to see if I can get out of them and learn from them. She does not; she’s slightly agoraphobic and looks towards cosmetic surgery, social acceptance, and mainstream commercialization for validation. While I do too at some points in my life, it always bothers me and while I acquiesce, I do it begrudgingly.
Example: I was born with a genetic disorder; I am missing some growth plates. One of my toes never grew, so all through adolescence I had this stumpy 4th toe that sat on the top of my foot. I was brutally protective about it while at the same time ashamed of it. It made me who I was and I didn’t want it changed. Whenever I went to the doctor my mother would always prod them about the possibility of corrective surgery and if it would have long term affects on my posture, or my development. It never would. It was just a little stumpy toe. Because of her pressure I had cosmetic surgery to fix it that required me to put two metal screws in my bones, break the bone in the middle and every day turn the device a quarter of a turn to grow the bone in the middle. The result, I can wear gorgeous heels and sandals and have no visible deformity. However, whenever people ask, I say that it was not a cosmetic procedure and that it was affecting my walk, my gait and my back alignment. This bothers me to no end. Why couldn’t she be happy with my love/hate relationship with my little toe? I know she just wanted the best, but her insistence on lies and persistence on the surgery will always bother me.
In her mind, I would have gone to college in state, gone to law school right after [a perfectly legitimate career choice] close to home of course, maybe even where my father went, and then moved a few towns over found some sort of husband and popped out 2 grandkids by now all with some low-level law career that allowed me to stay home during my kid’s first 5 years. [She has mentioned this to me, how she wants me to be able to stay home from birth to kindergarten, um, how is that possible if I am supposed to be a career woman?] Perhaps me and Mr. Suburban would have gone to Europe for our honeymoon [our first time of course] been satisfied with that level of travel, moved into a split level ranch and lived happily ever after in our cul-de-sac with our S.U.V. parked in the garage and our 401(k) collecting interest.
Unfortunately that is not the daughter she created. I travel to places that require you to get vaccinations for things I have only heard of on the Oregon Trail. I prefer spreading my love around and traveling all over this great continent to get quality ass which she never understands either and always yells at me to “keep my butt home already”. She wishes I dropped out of grad school for a more “legitimate” job that she can understand and brag about. But I am not that child. I prefer to walk the line of socially acceptable and weirdo. I’m gregarious to her social ineptitude and she never gets my sarcastic sense of humor and always thinks I am making fun of her or putting her down. I try, I really do to try to curb myself around her but it’s hard. I don’t understand her insistence of pleasing everyone. She’s leery of all people and trusts no one, yet always puts herself out there for people in this incredibly vulnerable ways that’s slightly socially awkward so of course it doesn’t go her way. Its just a weird position, to love your mother, worry about her, be sympathetic about her shortcomings, and try to help when she obviously doesn’t want to hear it from you.
She’s not going to find it in the secret though; she’s going to have to find it in herself. I know she wants more, but she needs to figure that it’s not going to come from anybody else except herself and start changing. My father and I are incredibly supportive of her, but she just looks at us with distrust. I don’t know how to handle this, sometimes its just a hard lesson and a hard smack in the face when you realize your parents have faults too and that there’s nothing you can do, or that they don’t want your two cents.
And yes, I did buy her the secret…and a part of me hopes it does work.
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