Here Comes the New Year…

Arbitrary of course.  January 1st is not really new and 2017 slides seamlessly into 2018 for real.  But the “new year” is a reasonable way to mark time, so I’ll go with it.  (I’m sure that’s a great relief to the universe, right?)

My tooth is fixed – yay and double yay!!  The dentist was able to patch it up, thank goodness, so it didn’t cost a whole fortune.  So that’s good.

But this is going to be the year of self-care.  Dental work that’s been postponed, doctor stuff.  I’m going to be 62 this year – yikes.  How did I get so damn old?  And what will that mean for me in the greater scheme of the universe.

I am not the same person i was when I started this kinky journey at a different blog in May of 2010.   Which is as it should be, I suppose.  I’m that much older and things have changed.  But I feel like being in my 60’s is very different from my 40s and 50s, not necessarily in ways that i appreciate right now.

I guess i need to come to terms with that before i hit 70.  It seems like there’s a shift that needs to happen, and i don’t know how to do it.

In Ericksonian terms, there are two stages of development that seems relevant to me. They are Generativity vs Stagnation and Ego Integrity vs Despair.

7. Generativity vs. Stagnation

During middle adulthood (ages 40 to 65 yrs), we establish our careers, settle down within a relationship, begin our own families and develop a sense of being a part of the bigger picture.

We give back to society through raising our children, being productive at work, and becoming involved in community activities and organizations.

By failing to achieve these objectives, we become stagnant and feel unproductive. Success in this stage will lead to the virtue of care.

As I head to the end of this stage, I find myself wondering how long I need to keep trying to make the world a better place.  Have I achieved the goals i set out for myself?  Am i done?  And if i’m done, then what do i do with myself?  Moving into the final stage…

8. Ego Integrity vs. Despair

As we grow older (65+ yrs) and become senior citizens, we tend to slow down our productivity and explore life as a retired person. It is during this time that we contemplate our accomplishments and can develop integrity if we see ourselves as leading a successful life.

Erik Erikson believed if we see our lives as unproductive, feel guilt about our past, or feel that we did not accomplish our life goals, we become dissatisfied with life and develop despair, often leading to depression and hopelessness.

Success in this stage will lead to the virtue of wisdom. Wisdom enables a person to look back on their life with a sense of closure and completeness, and also accept death without fear.

What constitutes a successful life?  I haven’t been “unproductive,” i know that.  But have i done what i needed to do?  And what do i do now?

i guess the next few years are time to figure this out, right?

Anyhow, that’s what is on my mind today, the last day of 2017.  I intend to write more here in 2018, even if it’s not necessarily kinky.  Stay tuned…

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Merry Christmas!

Everyone is feeling better – the presents got wrapped – the stockings are stuffed (and overstuffed.)  I have the quiet of the house all to myself, just waiting for everyone else to wake up.

If you celebrate this holiday, I hope your day is full of joy and love.images

And a Sickly Christmas

Really, if i were you, i would not even read this.  There is nothing kinky here, nothing particularly interesting.  So keep your expectations low.  Real low.

My grandson was sick a couple of days ago -throwing up sick, throwing up big-time sick.  Last night, my daughter got sick and went to bed early (for her.)

This morning, my granddaughter is sick, and tells me she threw up in the middle of the night.  (Thankfully, my poor sick daughter apparently handled that.)

I’ve had a cold for a week, which is slowly getting better, but this morning my head aches a bit.  At least I’m not feeling the urge to throw up.  Knock on wood.

But on the brighter side, none of us are seriously chronically ill, and no one is fatally ill, or even go-to-the-hospital ill.  In fact, not even a doctor run for anyone.  Knock on wood. So it’s all good.

My tooth has stayed glued in place – knock on wood – is not hurting – and I’m enjoying a lovely array of liquid nutrients.

The stockings are hung (albeit not stuffed) and the presents are bought (not wrapped.)  I this is probably about as good as it gets.

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Holiday of Humility

Not the kinky kind.

You know this is my secret diary, right?  So i share the things here that i won’t talk about other places.  So here’s this one.

I have an old crown on one of my front teeth.  It had come off about 3 times when i lived Where-i-Used-to-Live and my dentist had put it back on for cheap all 3 times. Well, the other day it came off again.

So i had to find a new dentist, real quick.  Which I did.  And he was really nice and he cemented the crown back in and he charged me $280.00.

So, fine, this is why God made credit cards, right?  At least I had a tooth for Christmas.

Until last night.  Last night, I bit down on a piece of food, but I hit the fork instead, hit it hard and kind of funny, and I knew this was going to be bad.  Nothing happened for a minute, and I thought maybe it would be ok.  But no.

The crown came off – again – and this time it broke off part of the post that it was cemented on to.

Fuck me running.

It’s Saturday.  Tomorrow is, predictably Sunday.  Then Christmas.

Fuck me running.  Three days before the dentist office will be open again.

I found an emergency dentist who’s open today.  It will cost $180.00 just to see him.  JUST for the office visit.  Not counting anything else.   AND i’m not even sure there is a short-term fix now that the post is broken.

i’ve glued the crown in myself, with that over-the-counter stuff they have.  If i eat food that you have to chew, the crown will probably come off again and will be more difficult to put back in.

I do not want to spend $180, probably for nothing.   I just don’t think I’m going to do it.  I think I’m just going to stick with food that doesn’t actually need to be chewed until Tuesday.

There are worse things.  This is a clear reminder that the world does not have to go the way I want it to, and it’s ok.

 

Reflection

Where does all that feeling even come from?  All that serving and pleasing stuff. I’m mad at myself for even feeling that way – I didn’t even quite know all that was there {still there} until i wrote it.  Fuck.

My energy does not need to be spent on cock worship and fucking.  OG is not going to be my Dom, or my lover, He’s a nice man who offered to spank my ass because i need that.  That’s what i need to be saying to myself four times.  Slowly.  With feeling.

On the other hand, {sigh} there’s no point in berating myself for having the feelings i have.  They are just there.  And this is the best place to let them be.

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The Fantasy Begins II

Check-in is smooth, and the room is nice.  i like having a microwave and refrigerator, even if i probably won’t use them.  I set my suitcase on the ottoman and open it, ready to unpack.  But i pause – what did the text say?

Glancing at my phone – oh, yes.  It’s pretty clear.

When you get to your room take off your clothes.  Then text me.

It doesn’t say anything about settling in or unpacking.  i slip off my shoes, always a pleasure.  Then my t-shirt.  i hesitate with my hands on my waist, ready to pull down my black capri pants.  The sliding closet doors are mirrored, i can see my reflection. In my not-fancy black bra and pants, thicker through the waist than i want to be, i look at myself.

i want to hurry up and get undressed.  i want to do what he said.  But i stop to look at myself in the mirror, at my eyes.  They are hazel, more green than brown tonight.   “Do you really want to do this?” i ask them.  Raising my eyebrows, feeling the question.  Then i grin.  “Yep.”

And i finish stripping.

Naked, i pause.  Ok, now i’m supposed to text him – text him what?  I start punching in letters –

“i’m nak

and then i erase that, he said text him, he didn’t say i had to announce i was naked.

 “Hi!”  🙂

i wait, gazing at my phone.  And wait.  It seems like forever, a minute passes.  A bit more.  i text again:

“I’m in the room now.”

And i wait.  Damn it.  Why isn’t he answering me? Am i supposed to do something else?  Should i just go ahead and start getting ready?  Why is he taking so long?  Damn it.  Maybe 5 minutes have actually gone by, it feels like for-ev-er.  i can’t resist.

“I took off my clothes.  What am i supposed to do now?”

I have barely hit “send” when my phone rings – but it’s not the phone, it’s Facetime. Omg.  This man i’ve never met wants to Facetime with me while i’m standing here naked.  i hesitate -but just for a second.

i answer the call.  “Hello,” i say, and my voice sounds uncertain to my own ears.  He’s looking at me, the face i’ve gotten to know on my screen.  He looks serious.  Intent.

“Three minutes,” he says.  “You waited three minutes before you had to text again.  For the third time.”  He voice is low key, he’s not upset, he’s just noticing.  Just letting me know.

i’m a little bit embarrassed – “It seemed like a long time,’ i say, and then, with less certainty, “i didn’t know what you wanted me to do.”

He grins, “And couldn’t wait to find out.  That’s ok.  You agreed to follow my directions tonight, are you still willing to do that?”

“Yes – yes, of course i am,” enthusiastic now, i’m ready to take action, ready to please.  Just don’t make me wait around for 3 minutes!

“Then let me help you learn some of the patience you’ll need to be able to please me,” he says, and his voice is silky smooth.  i feel my anxiety inching up again.  Frigging emotional roller coaster, what now?

“First of all,” he goes on, “The correct response is, “yes, sir,’  There will be a punishment later for not saying that – just a token to remind you.  For now, I want to hear you say “Yes, Sir, I am willing to follow your directions,” four times, slowly and clearly.  Go ahead.”

So i do, i say “Yes, Sir, i am willing to follow your directions,” four times.  As i say the words, i can feel my body changing – i don’t know how to explain it.  You know, it’s like i’m softening, opening somehow.  i’m looking at him, looking at him on my phone while i say it, and it’s like i’m falling down into his eyes.

When i finish, he smiles just a tiny bit, just the corners of his mouth turn up, but his eyes look pleased.   i feel this urge to please him in some other way, to offer him more, but i don’t, i just wait.    I have my camera focused on my face, he can’t see that i’m naked and he hasn’t asked.

I’m expecting him to, but instead he says, “When it’s hard for you to wait, here’s something you can try.  We’ll try it in a minute, but listen to the directions first.  I’m going to have you bend over the bed so your breasts are resting on the bed.  You can lean on your forearms so your head and shoulders are propped up a bit.  You’ll fix the camera on a pillow across from you so that you don’t have to hold it and I can see your face.  Do you understand that?”

“I – I think so,” i say, adding quickly, “Sir.”

“Go ahead and try it,” he says.

It’s easier than it sounds actually and it doesn’t take long until he’s looking at my face as i lay with my torso on the bed, raised up on my forearms, looking at him.  My hips are higher than the bed, so my ass is raised behind me.

“Open your legs wide,” he says.

i spread my feet farther apart, which also exposes my pussy, and i feel a bit of cool air between my legs.  i shiver.  He smiles.

“Now,” he says, “We’ll start with your hands.  Just take a moment to think about your hands.  Feel them in your mind, be aware of them.”

Immediately, i  become super aware of my hands.  I can sense the skin, feel the fingers.  They begin  to tingle just a bit.

He says,  “Now, tell me a way you can please me with your hands.”

And it’s easy.  i smile at him, and say, “I can caress you with my hands, Sir.”  He nods.  “Yes, when I give you permission, you can please me by caressing me with your hands.”

I sigh, my breathing is slow and even.  Yes.  i can do that.

“What about your arms?” he asks.  “How can you please me with your arms?”

For a moment, i don’t know.  Then i smile, “i can hug you with my arms, Sir.”

“Yes,” he says, smiling gently, “When I give you permission, you can please me by hugging me with your arms.”

I think i  might die with the slow meticulous progress we make.  With my mouth? With my mouth, i can lick and suck you, Sir.”  And his response each time, Yes, when I give you permission, you can…”

Some of them are not so easy.  With my feet?  What can i do to please him with my feet?  He waits, until finally i say, haltingly, “With my feet, Sir, i can walk so i can bring you something to eat or drink?” and he smiles, “Yes, when I give you permission, you can please me by bringing me something to eat or drink – or rope to tie you with – or the belt to beat you…”

i shiver.  And we go on.

He leads.  “Think about your ass.  How can you please me with your ass, olivia?”  “With my ass,  I can please you by – offering it to you – for spanking, Sir?”  And so on…

By the time we finished, i am drained.   Trembling, my pussy hotter than it has been in years, my body totally relaxed -as if – as if it does not even belong to me anymore.  My nipples as tender as if i’d been wearing nipple clamps.

“Do you want to cum?” he asks, and i’m quick with an eager, “YES, SIR!” but he laughs, “No.  Not now.  You don’t cum until I give you permission.”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, and in that moment, it seems perfectly reasonable to me.