We’re all broken in some way? Aren’t we?
I remember a time when I was so broken within myself that I don’t remember seeing any light shining through. I thought that my life would forever be that way – full of darkness.
I would do anything to take the pain away. Sex. Sex was my big fix for almost two decades. I would fuck to make myself feel better. The riskier the better, living life as if there were no tomorrow. I wanted to make the pain that I felt go away. Sex, always got me high. But the lows were so low, I felt worse afterwards. Then it would be the next sexual adventure for that rush. Bathrooms, parks, even a gay bar. I will state for the record that I am pretty straight, there are some good-looking bi-guys in gay bars. When the sex ended, I was right back in my room, waiting for someone, anyone, something and anything to see through my brokenness.
Mostly all this is about my BPD issues, it’s where the “brokenness” comes from. Some days are better than others. Some days I feel good about who I am, other days its like getting kicked in the gut.
There is one man, who looked through the broken window of my soul and seen a little orphaned kitten. He took me home, to love and care for me and for that I am always here. I act spunky, flirty and obnoxious at times, but that’s who I am (sometimes). There are times that I don’t know who I am. The brokenness within me has shattered all of what I have come to know as me. Fragments so small. That my personality can only reflect the image that looks into the shattered mirror known as me.
It is recently that I have come to accept, deal with my brokenness. I do whatever it takes to try to get me back to my emotional baseline. I still use old habits to get my high. Sex, has changed. I used to go out get buzzed and come home to play with my beloved. We would act out different things, rough sex. Rough sex was my favorite. Lately, even the sex isn’t the same. I’m not giving up, I will come up with some new things to try. Just need to catch my second wind.
Like most broken windows, light shines through the glass. Sometimes you can see a true treasure, something beautiful. Always look through that broken window of someone’s soul, look where the sun shines and see if you find something beautiful. With a little sunshine & love something wondrous could grow.
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I’m not all that great at writing stories, not lately anyway. So, instead I decided to use photos.
In the past I have done a few motorcycle (biker) photos and working out in corn country I did one photo set that had a country look too. But that’s after the new photos I took in a rush this morning. My first photos with rope. I took a few fast shots, not extremely happy with them, I’m still learning different settings on my camera. UGH. I won this beautiful green rope from unboundbox.com. The rope is from Erin Hoodini’s specialty bondage rope. This is the first time I’ve used it for anything.
Now let’s step into the wayback machine …. for a few of my photos from 2013 and 2014.
ALL these photos are copyrighted @2015 @2014 @2013 and can not used without permission of the owner. If you are interested in using any of the above photos please feel free to use the contact form below.
I am terrible at meeting them. I can set them so easy, in my mind.
Then something happens that I lose track of them. I give up. In my head I hear “you had great intentions of meeting every goal.” What happened? I got sidetracked, the universe put something else in my way. I set them too high and got discouraged.
Here are some goals that are in my head now; in no specific order.
- Organize all the boxes of photographs for my children
- Finish organizing my office.
- Finish cleaning out the back porch.
- Finish clearing out the basement.
- Work on losing weight.
- Get my bicycle out, so I can start riding after work.
- Get stuff ready for neighborhood rummage sale in a few weeks.
- Save up enough money for new DSLR camera that I want.
- Get photos off my iphone.
- Purchase new PC (tower).
- YARD! Work on the front & back yard. Including redoing the pond for the fish.
Sex isn’t even on this list!!! UGH!? What have I become?! I’m still have flirt. I still got off on that, but I don’t see any new sexual adventures in my future. Why? One major reason is that my Beloved has not been well. It all caught up to him at once. He is needing several surgeries (3) by this year’s end. One is major and will be life changing. I will be needing lots of sex toys to keep me company while he is in his recovery period.
I think some of my goals may seem small to some, but I tend to get so easily sidetracked. I also start one project and then merge into another one and get lost. Not to mention that I just make big messes and get overwhelmed causing me to just walk away from all of it.
I hope that I can get some of these goals crossed off my list…..SOON!
This post serves as a dual post for both the A to Z Challenge and for Wicked Wednesday. CLICK the banners below to get more info.
We have all had that first time sex experience. What was your first time like? Were you ready? Were you nervous? Do you regret it? Was it exciting and sensual and everything you hoped it would be? After the very first time you continue to experience more firsts. Your first blowjob. Your first threesome. The first time you realized the way you enjoyed sex was different than the way others enjoyed it. And somewhere in there you even experienced your first orgasm. Tell us about one of your firsts.
It was October 1983. I was introduced to a boy by my best friend. They went to public school together. She thought that he & I would get along great together. He was shy and so was I. We were talking the way teenagers do, about sex & school. We discussed ideas about losing our virginity. It occurred to us that most of our friends had already had sex. One mutual friend had already had an abortion. Keep in mind it was the 80’s. A decade of decadence. He & I both were tired of being virgins. We were the nerds of our group. The semi-cool kids, but yet still nerdy. Nerdy glasses, braces. He was super smart in school, me not so smart.
We went to my Homecoming Dance October 12, 1983. It was that night that we decided to act on our mutual agreement. We agreed on the exchange of our virginity. I had remember seeing those sappy romance stories of young love, young female teens give their virginity away to some asshole who wouldn’t treasure it. I was of the mindset that I wasn’t giving without getting something. I knew he was a virgin because he was too much of a geek, his older brother teased him all the time. My best friend went through grade school with him, he never dated any one-until me.
After the dance on the way home, he stopped & pulled over on a side street under a street light. In the front seat, we kissed. His hands felt me up. I was tense. I remember him putting on the condom. We never touched each other’s junk. He just shoved it in. OMG Sweet baby Jesus that fucking hurt! He was on top of me, vigorously pumping. I’m looking up, the light from the street lamp blinding me. I kept thinking it will get better, practice.
He tossed the full condom out of the window. He drove me home. My father sitting in his chair waiting up for me. I could barely walk. My pussy lips were so swollen. I immediately walked into the bathroom. I thought I was burning alive when I urinated. Jesus! I’m in such pain. BUT I thought this is my freedom. I can’t wait to find out if it can get better.
The story of he & I ended shortly after that night. I wanted more. I wanted to experiment, he thought I was freaky & needy. Years later, we ran into each other again. He was in the Marine Corp. He lived in the city, I would stay over because I was too lazy to drive the 90 minutes home. He would stay at my place instead of his folks house. We fucked a lot. Fucked and Fucked some more. We fucked so intense one evening that we made the bed half was across the room, then one of the slats broke! The last time his name was mentioned to me was when a guy I dated (also a Marine, who had been stationed with him) asked if I knew him. I said “Yes.” The next question was “D told me that you guys made an agreement to fuck each other to pop each other’s cherries. Is that true? Cause that’s some crazy shit.” I stopped dating him that evening. No more Marines and stayed out of the city for a while after that.
Do I regret the agreement? Fuck No. I wanted to be sexually free. I wanted to experience & experiment. I didn’t want to give something so valuable to someone who wouldn’t treasure it. Besides I’ve always said Nothing in life is free. I gave something and I took something.
There are several first’s in my life.
- A first kiss in 1979.
- Feeling in love for the first time in December of 1979.
- My first oral gratification in 1982.
- A first blowjob in 1982.
- First sexual intercourse 1983.
- A first MMF threesome in 1984.
- First time I enjoyed sex “different” from the mainstream -Summer of 1984.
- A first marriage (1984) .
- A first affair (1986) .
- First older man experience (10+ years).
- A first FFM threesome in 1987.
- A first divorce in 1988.
There are a few other “first’s” in my life. My first uncut cock blowjob experience. My first married couple. My first older man more than ten years older. A first taboo experience.
I really should start a list.
Read about the other bloggers who are talking about their “first’s.” CLICK the banner below to get the full blogger list!!!
White… what do you think about when you think of the color white? Actually it’s not really a color, but that’s besides the point now. We want to know what you think about, what comes to mind… something sexy… something funny… something sad. Share your stories about ‘white’. – Wicked Wednesday
White…fresh fallen snow. I love “snow days.” When the city shuts down, I stand there at the window watching the snowflakes come down. There is a feeling I get that I can’t explain with words. My heart skips a beat, I get dressed to go out to play in the snow at those moments. Watching movies while snuggling on the sofa with my loved one…feeling each other up under my woobie.
White thick snow that can cause a heart attack. White frozen snow that you can hear crackle & pop under your boots as you walk. Walking hand & hand in a white winter wonderland with the man I love the most. Sticking your tongue out as the snow falls to taste those fluffy white snowflakes.
White…cocaine. The 80’s. Partying like there’s no tomorrow. The sex that followed, the intense & powerful sex. So raw and animal-like that I had forgotten how I got to that point. Lost in the moment of body heat & passion. All this is days past. Days of my youth, sometimes I do miss the partying. Then I think of Charlie Sheen now and think…Thank God I got off that spiral staircase.
White…panties. I have posted several photos for the bloke who is crazy insane for white knickers. Upskirt shots. White lace panties. I remember a time when that’s all there was. Just plain white panties & white bras. Speaking of bras. Just bought a brand new Bali white bra. It’s my favorite brand of bra. White socks…I grew up attending private school. I wore lots & lots of white socks.
White…bed sheets. Fresh crispy white sheets. Especially the ones fresh off the clothesline. There is something to the fresh scent of them. Then putting those fresh sheets on the bed. Snuggling into those clean fresh white sheets after a re-freshening shower.
Innocence is what comes to mind when I hear the word white. Purity. Don’t wear white after September 1 (I don’t think that fashion rule applies anymore). Don’t wear white during your “cycle.” Well, I only had to experience that once!
A few of my first thoughts when I think of white. Wanna know who else is thinking about white? CLICK the banner below to find out!
Communication… how important is this to you? In which situations do you find communication more important than others? Share your stories of communication excellence or communication going wrong. – Wicked Wednesday
Communication can be very important to me, especially when I am communicating with someone in a sexual conversation.
There have been times in my past when I fail to communicate with others. I get too emotionally wound up and begin to yell, not scream, but yell. I have in the past misunderstood communication from others because it was misread by me in a text. That’s why I prefer talking on the phone. I can understand, I can hear the person’s voice. I can hear the tones, their emotions when they speak. It’s not so difficult to misunderstand.
Sometimes I do prefer to communicate in written form; for instance my sex stories from my past. I try to make it sound like it’s present tense. I am trying to convey, express and share how I behaved sexually when I was younger.
Sometimes I don’t like to communicate at all. I completely shut down. Listening, talking, reading is just too much for me at that time.
My current form of communicating is via the “hobby” of PSO. Sexting is fun too. I will admit I have thought about sharing some of those experiences here, haven’t ruled it out BUT just not sure just yet.
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“Susanne” recently fired from her job. “Now what am I gonna do? How I was I suppose to know that phone number was his mistress’s and not his wife’s!!!???” Susanne decided she should go back to school. She was tired of being a secretary anyway! When she was little she always loved to play doctor with the neighbor boy.
This week’s prompt for Wicked Wednesday is about a woman who gets fired after getting the wrong number. CLICK the banner below to found out more about Wicked Wednesday!