I posted that I was going to read 50 Shades of Grey in an attempt to cure my writer’s block.
Cue the rousing chorus of NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!
My writer friends were not having it.
“Read the Sleeping Beauty Trilogy.”
I did, 22 years ago. The first book was neat, but the next two were redundant in only the way Anne Rice can be. It did open my eyes a little, to sex beyond Penthouse Forum. The idea that there can be pleasure derived from pain. The existence of dominance and submission.
Again. Kinda missing the point. I’m not looking for literature.
I read Lolita, when I was 16. A year after I lived through it, and I found the language beautiful, but the descriptions…sorely lacking.
(See Hot for Teacher)
I wasn’t kidnapped, I was simply sexually educated by someone much older than I.
I didn’t want to read 50 Shades for educational purposes, nor for inspiration.
I am realizing that at 42 years old my last couple decades of sex, while being fairly prolific (except when it wasn’t) lacked trust and exploration.
But we will get to that.
I wanted to read it because I have writer’s block with the smut I’m writing.
Once upon a strip club, many years ago I was too scared to go on stage. And the final thing that launched me from yearning to doing was a girl who danced so incredibly badly to music that I loved. Matthew Good Band to be specific.
Now in the years since, I have realized that their particular time signature is actually really hard to dance to, so I don’t. But watching her flop around on the stage like a dying fish but with less grace made me realize ‘I can’t possibly be that bad’ and it gave me the guts to climb the stairs, grab the pole and try.
And I did, and it was good, amen. Except that time I tried to dance to Matt Good. Dave Matthews I can do. Trial and error.
So there is that then.
I’ve mentioned before, that I’m having a hard time getting through this because of the exit of my muse.
The book is based on his kinks, which I found intriguing at the time. Still do to a degree. If I was single, it is something I would consider.
But I’m not. Nor do I want to be.
My muse wanted to pass me around to other men. The way he presented it was in a way that I understood. And as the girl who had been denied sex in 2 relationships that spanned 10 years, it seemed like a good idea at the time. I could have all the sex and a boyfriend at the same time.
I had been in an open relationship before that never made it past the beginning stages and I had always been curious. When I met my muse he told me what he wanted it was explained to me in a way that made sense to me, both physically and emotionally. He picked me up where the other left off.
Like I said, if I was single, sure, maybe I’d try to push the limits of my own wantonness in that way.
I get that it is possible to love someone, set them free and find solace, comfort and joy in them returning to you over and over. I can rationalize this.
But having that kind of relationship dangled in front of me like a carrot…I don’t really like carrots.
I want someone who pushes the boundaries of my wantonness within the security of a monogamous relationship.
Having read the Sleeping Beauty Trilogy and done a lot of looking, reading, exploring on my own as of late…I know I want to be owned, I derive pleasure from physical pain. Sex sore is about the best feeling there is. I am submissive. I like feeling small, safe and then used. Then safe again.
Muse appealed to me because he is overtly masculine, dominant, sexual, liberated. Our trust was established when I told him stories about my past and he enjoyed them. I hadn’t had that before. To me it felt like being accepted for everything that I am, which he did, but there was that catch.
I used the opportunity to explore things I had done, what worked for me, what didn’t and what I theoretically wanted to try.
Then he went away.
And I was left with yet another pearl in a long string of partners who I never got a chance to trust enough to open up with sexually.
He woke me up to a lot of things, but didn’t stick around. I had to put myself back together and apply my own sutures.
You have to keep breaking your heart until it opens ~ Rumi
I sat down to write a thank you letter to my exes. But along with being one giant coffin, that is what this blog is. One long meandering “Thanks for the lessons guys on what I want and what I don’t want”.
I wish them all well wherever they are.
I am good where I am.
The one I am with now said “Never too much” and “You are mine”.
He also said, “tell me what you want”.
I had my heart busted and hopes dashed so often, no matter how hard I tried to behave, I really just said fuck it, opened my mouth and let everything come flying out. Figuring it was actually better to be left or loved for who I really am rather than twist myself into knots, bend to the breaking point trying to be what they wanted.
I had to get to the point where I was more scared of losing myself in another person than losing someone who couldn’t accept all of me.
I owe everyone who left me a huge thank you.
In my inquisitive way I have gone sailing upon the vast oceans of the internet and educating myself on various shades of grey of being a submissive. I find things, see things, read things and decide for myself, yes this, not that and I present what I like to him and he just says yes.
With this new one, I don’t feel the need to clear my browser history or to hide anything at all.
Except maybe the Hentai. I can’t quite explain that one.
Turns me on to look at but I can’t see myself playing with an octopus. That sex swing/yoga trapeze however. That looks like fun.
Tied up and twisted the way I like to be, for you, for me, come crash into me baby. Dave Matthews Band