What Is Kinky Anyway?

One of the things I find interesting is how different people define “kinky.” I think the most common definition of kinky is “whatever those weird people are doing over there—but nothing I would do in my own bedroom.” I also think that in the minds of most people, they define kinky as whips and chains, blood and bruises, sadism and masochism. They don’t think of simpler things, like a pair of toy handcuffs or silk scarves, as kinky. Yet in reality, simple common sexual acts and toys can be quite kinky.

When I was on OkCupid, there were several kink related questions. One asked if the respondent was into BDSM. Almost all guys answered no. Yet when the men got to the question about whether they’d rather be tied up or do the tying, almost all had an answer that wasn’t “no way!” Somehow most men missed out that the B in BDSM stands for “bondage,” and tying a partner up or being tied up is bondage. If the men like tying up a partner or being tied up, they are kinky. They like bondage.

Most people would vehemently protest that idea, though. Most want to believe that their sex lives are “normal.” Yet normal really is just a setting on the dryer. Most people like to do sexual things that if one were to stand back and look at them from an objective point of view, those things are really kind of weird. Most men adore receiving blowjobs, but if you look at them objectively, a blowjob is someone putting their mouth on the part of anatomy where urine is released. Really? Why would anyone want to do that or have it done? Clearly, there’s more to sex than just the logical perspective.

So what is kinky? That’s a really tough question. To me, kinky is being open to things beyond vaginal and oral sex, both of which are considered very mainstream. Kinky includes bondage. Kinky includes anal sex and anal play. Kinky includes all kinds of sex toys beyond vibrators. Kinky might include role playing. For others, being kinky includes sex with more than one partner. And yes, it might include sadism, masochism, spanking, whips, chains, blood, bruises, suspensions, public play, choking, latex, other non-sexual bodily fluids and much, much more. Kinky is a huge range of sexual possibility.

Getting on Fetlife.com is one of the great ways to expand one’s mind about what kinky is. Humans have a huge range of sexual behavior, and learning what others like can help one define what kinky is in one’s own sex life. One can quickly figure out that kinky sex is way more common than one actually thinks it is. What goes on in privacy in our bedrooms is really quite fascinating.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

The Simplest of Things

It was the simplest of things.

We sat on a bench talking
sharing the deep intimacy that formed naturally between us.
Spiritual siblings
loving so intimately and so deeply
that neither of us had words to explain our love’s power.

Agape we said.
Deep spiritual love.
A love filled with intimacy beyond compare.

Yet it was platonic.
There was no kissing.
No sex.
Just love, intimate and pure.

Until that day
when unintentionally
you changed everything.

As we sat on a bench, my hand resting flat,
you placed your hand on top of mine
interweaving your fingers with mine
closing them tightly around my fingers
uniting us together
creating an intimacy
a love
an irresistible power
that brought down every shield already barely standing around my heart.

To you, it was just a casual touch
an affirmation of our friendship.
To me, it was so much more.
That one simple act
was more spiritual, more intimate, more loving
than all of the sex with my recent lovers combined.
It touched my soul.
and eros began rising within me.

Yet as quickly as it happened,
it became nothing.
Everything disappeared.
The love was gone
because to you,
that gesture
that sacred touch
that intermingling of fingers and souls,
it meant nothing.
Nothing at all.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

Yearning for You

Tonight, the loneliness and horniness combine to bring forth a yearning and a torment that can only be resolved through your touch. I want you near me, uniting our bodies and souls into one sacred being. I imagine your arms pulling me close to your naked body. I feel the tender pressure of your hands against my bare biceps and triceps, firm and beckoning. I raise my hands to your chest, running my hands through your soft dark hair, one of the physical manifestations of your manliness that turns me on so powerfully.

Your head bends down toward me as my neck arches up towards you. Our lips reach for each other. We delicately let our lips touch, softly conveying our intense and mutual love. Your tongue follows with an equally subtle approach, tenderly reaching for mine and letting me know that this night is about the communion of our beings. There is passion in your actions, yet the love behind the lusty desire overpowers the physical desperation we both feel for each other. We cannot help but let our passion take over. The soft kisses quickly become engulfing ones, with our tongues frantically probing deep in each other’s mouths. Our bodies press against each other, and I feel your erection straining against my abdomen, betraying your quick arousal resulting from our kisses.

We slowly stop kissing and stare deeply into each other’s eyes. Our eyes are the windows to our souls, and both of us find the spiritual union we want in the other’s gaze. As we continue to connect through our eyes, our breath begins to synchronize, bringing our bodies further into union with each other. The gentle music in the background and the flickering candles subtly increase the intimacy of the moment. There is nothing in the world besides the two of us in this room. We are the only ones that matter. Our love is the only one that exists in time and space.

Having taken time to deeply connect through our breaths and gaze, our day of loving interactions and verbal foreplay rapidly turns to sensuous lovemaking. We cannot and do not want to take our hands off of each other. We gently glide them across the other’s skin, erotically grazing all the places we know bring pleasure to us both. As your fingers meander to my hard nipples, you bend down to kiss my earlobes, nibbling gently, your breath caressing as much as your teeth and your tongue. I quiver with arousal as your touches send shivers throughout my body.

My hands move downward to your firm buttocks, rubbing and squeezing in response to your passionate kisses that are now running down my neck. The texture of your body hair against my soft hands brings sensuous pleasure to me. My fingers move towards your anus; my fingers both enjoy feeling your skin become soft and hairless and also tantalizing your sensitive nerve endings with my touch. I hear you moan with pleasure as my fingers probe firmly downward toward your balls, feeling the texture shift in your skin again.

As you kiss my neck and I explore your nether regions, our legs are pressed against each other, mine shaved smooth and yours textured with dark hair. The combination of the two rubbing against each other makes beautiful music between us, silent but powerful in stimulating our connection.

I feel your hands moving down my back and reaching for my soft backside that contrasts from your highly textured hairy body. I arch my neck backward as your lips move down my chest, moving slowly but steadily with your tongue toward my favorite destination. As your fingers part my nether lips, your tongue begins caressing my clit, quickly making me writhe with pleasure. I let loose sighs of pleasure coupled with squeals of intense release when your tongue manages to hit my clit in just the right way.

My pussy is desperately aching for your cock, a desire I verbalize as you look up and make eye contact with me. Our eyes lock, and once again we feel the need to kiss passionately, my juices fresh on your lips and transferring to mine. We take another moment to synchronize our breathing as we gaze deeply into each other’s soul, remembering that our union is so much more than just the physical. Yet the physical is calling us, and you continue gazing in my eyes while deeply penetrating my soaking wet pussy with your rock-hard cock, the first thrust giving us both intense pleasure that no words can capture. We both gasp and then moan at the intensity of our union. There is nothing that will ever replace the sensation of our bodies joined as one.

Slowly you begin that beautiful rhythm of thrusting your cock in and out of me. My legs wrap tighter around you as I press my abdomen as hard against you as I can, wanting to absorb your cock further inside me than it can possibly go. We hear the sloshing of my juices as you plunge in and out of me, your balls slapping against my pussy with each thrust. Our breathing begins to become very harried and desperate as climax approaches for both of us. You let me come first; I scream out with pleasure as my g-spot explodes from all of the delightful friction of your cock rubbing against it. Unable to contain your need to release once you hear my screams, you also are quickly calling out with unbridled gratification. All too soon, our peaks begin dropping, and our bodies come to rest next to each other in exhausted pleasure.

As I think about laying in your arms in my fantasy, my soul aches for you. I want to feel our energy meld together. I want our souls to return to the state we shared before we came into this world. I wonder when I will finally find you. I feel as though you are getting so close to being in my life. I want you here with me more than you can imagine– or maybe you can imagine. Maybe you are feeling this longing, too. Maybe tonight you are thinking of me and longing for me in the same way I am desiring you. Maybe our lives are about to finally intersect. Maybe we are finally about to begin our journey together.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

The Ugly Duckling

I finally came up with a way to better describe how I feel about myself, my appearance, and my dating world.

I live in a town full of ducks. They don’t all look alike, but there are very prominent themes among the ducks who rule the town. They wear skinny jeans. They grow man-buns. They wear yoga pants with flip-flops for formal occasions. The women curl and style their hair for hours only to put it up in ponytail after all the work. They dye their hair popular colors.  They starve themselves rather than gain any weight. They run or lift weights even to the point of repeatedly injuring themselves. They obsess over physical appearance.

These ducks don’t accept themselves as they are, and because they don’t accept themselves, they don’t accept others either. Unless one puts on a facade that meets the local cultural standards of beauty, one can’t be a duck.

I’m not a duck. I’m swimming in the same waters as the ducks, but I am not a duck. They may see me as the ugly duckling, but I  am a swan. I like who I am. I don’t want to change to make the rest of the ducks happy. I am me, and I’m grateful to be me. I wish others could see me as a swan rather than an ugly duckling, but they just don’t. I can’t change how they see me, either. They don’t want to change. They like their narrow vision of the world.

So how does a swan date in a sea of ducks? The answers is that the swan can’t. The swan can try, but all that happens is that the ducks reject the swan over and over again. They don’t even want to be friends with the swan because the swan doesn’t look like them, talk like them, or act like them.

I look forward to one day living in a world where swans are accepted and seen for their natural beauty. Until then, I will just have to hope that one day a lost swan will wander into town and find me here, alone and being a swan by myself.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

A Hot Bath

A few nights ago, I was watching YouTube clips of Graham Norton’s talk show. One of the clips that got my attention was Tamsin Greig describing how she learned to fake orgasms on screen. Greig said that her director told her to make the same noises she would make getting into a hot bath.

Last night, as I got into a super hot bath, I immediately flashed back to this clip. With the exception of me screaming “hot” periodically as I got into the tub, yeah, the noises are eerily similar. I’ll never get into a hot bath again without thinking of orgasms. Hopefully the next time I experience an orgasm with another person, though, I won’t be thinking of a hot bath!

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

Facing the Brutal Truth

Like all anonymous blogs, I only have to disclose what I want on this blog. Some of it is fiction. Most of it is very real.

One of the things that I have not discussed to date but which I have to write about now is my physical appearance.  According to the men in the community I live in, I am both fat and ugly. In their eyes, this makes me undateable. This is the true reason I don’t put face pictures up on my dating profiles.  I learned very quickly that if I had face pictures up, men would not respond to my messages. If I didn’t have face pictures up, I could at least get men to talk to me to help chase away my loneliness. Once they saw face pictures, most men ran like they were on fire. They didn’t even make polite excuses before ghosting me.

All of the men I have dated since my divorce can be categorized pretty easily: Most were mentally ill. Many were social alcoholics. One was a drug addict who was currently not using but was planning to restart as soon as he could legally risk it. Half were unemployed. And then there were the three who lied to me about being in long-term romantic relationships with others. The very few men who actually went out with me were not husband material because they were so fucked up in various ways.

The common theme of these men was that they saw me, a highly educated and professional woman who owns a house, a car, and a business, as too ugly to date but not too ugly to fuck. Besides, if it was just cybersex, what I looked like didn’t matter. They could fantasize I was anyone.

Even though some of them had some of the best sex of their lives with me, they still couldn’t see past their dicks. I wasn’t pretty enough to be a trophy wife, so that meant I wasn’t good enough for them despite their multitude of flaws. What the common theme with all of these men was that they were using me for sex until they could find something better. There were no illusions on my part about it, at least with the men who were single. With the men who were partnered, there was a lot of pain and grief on my part when I found out the truth.

I recently met a man who was one of the kindest, most compassionate, most loving men I have ever been lucky enough to encounter. I felt things for him that I’ve felt for no other human I’ve ever met. When his divorce was final, I would have loved to have dated him, but I also knew I wasn’t what he was looking for. I knew that I was likely going to be stuck in the friend zone with him for eternity. Despite that, feelings grew for him. He did a few things that I misinterpreted. And when I confessed my growing feelings for him, he was repulsed. He not only ran in horror, but he told me that he found me physically unattractive. If a man who is as wonderful as him can’t see past my physical qualities, then I truly must be ugly. It’s time to face the brutal truth.

Based on that, I’ve finally had to accept that I’m not going to find a man who can see past my ugly face and my large waistline. If I want to retain any shred of self-respect and self-esteem, I have to quit trying to date. Being told over and over, whether implicitly or explicitly, that I’m unattractive, that I’m undesirable, that I’m ugly… that isn’t ok. After five years of trying, I’ve lost all ability to fight the fight any longer. I’m done dating. If God sends a nearly-perfect man to my front porch (aside from the UPS guy or the Jehovah’s Witnesses), then yes, I’ll take him. But I’m not looking for him any more. I’m not on any dating sites. I’ve deactivated on Fetlife. I’m not going to any singles groups. I’m done.

I really wish I could find a gay bone in my body so I could date a woman. Alas, that’s just not going to happen.

So from now on, there will be no new dating stories. There will be no new online dating bloopers (although I have one half-finished post from before I closed my last account).  There are some memories I’ve started to type into stories, but I haven’t finished. I’m not sure if I will because those memories just bring pain now even though they were amazing fun when they happened. When I’m lonely and horny, I might type up fantasies. Mostly, though, in the short term, I’m probably going to be decompressing about the abuse I’ve dealt with in my dating experiences. After that… I don’t know. Right now, the future looks to bleak to face.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com

 

One Year

Yesterday was one year since we met in person for the first time. Tomorrow is one year since we first had sex. I am certain you don’t remember the dates; you’re not that kind of guy.

Ours was meant to be a casual relationship. It was supposed to be about sex and not much else. That quickly changed. By the third sex date, I had told you that I really liked you, and you nodded back yes, holding back tears, so choked up you couldn’t speak. By the fourth date, you accidentally called me by the nickname you used for your ex-wife.

You weren’t what I expected. You were physically beautiful. Your face was so sexy, and your body was well-sculpted. Your strong hands on my supple body felt so amazing. I couldn’t figure out why a man who looked like you would be willing to have sex with me, though it quickly became clear that you had mental health challenges, ones that impacted your life severely.

Yet underneath those mental health issues was one of the most sensitive, loving men I’ve ever met. You are tender and caring. You feel so deeply but you don’t want to, so you repress it all. You run from your feelings if they aren’t what your logic tells you that you “should” be feeling.

Even though the sex we had was amazing, you couldn’t look past your fantasies to see me for the dynamic woman that I am. You had a picture in your mind of what your future wife looks like, and that description didn’t line up with me. Hence, you couldn’t let yourself enjoy our relationship for what it was, and you couldn’t appreciate me for whom I am. Instead, you kept insisting on searching frantically for this unicorn you think exists, this perfect woman in mind and body who is going to accept you as you are, flaws and all.

Since I wasn’t perfect and I wasn’t your fantasy, you decided I was good for sex and nothing else. Despite that, you kept trying to change me. Even though I was ok with your issues, you weren’t ok with mine. You created an impossible situation in your mind, one that isn’t even scientifically realistic, and you wanted me to enact it so that I could change to become the woman of your dreams. You couldn’t let it go. You obsessed over this idea of what I should do with my body and my life. I know part of that was your mental illness; your obsession with that idea was rooted in your inability to focus on a broader picture. Still, part of it was you, too, judging me for not doing what you wanted me to do and for not being whom you wanted me to be.

When I couldn’t live with the judgment anymore, I ended it. I cried a lot of tears over you. I had fallen in love with you in the short time we were together. You got mad at me when I told you that I loved you. I told you that you didn’t have to feel it, but you couldn’t stop me from feeling it. That’s not how it works. I loved you. I still do. It wasn’t just the sex. It was the amazing man who lives trapped under a terrible mental illness that he can’t control.

And the sex…. No man before or since has made me cum the way you did. Our sex was beyond amazing. You are going to be the lover whom I compare all others to. You are the one who taught me what my body can do when it’s treated properly. You taught me that sex is the most amazing experience in the world when the right two people are partnered.

I gave you this blog link after we broke up, though I’m not sure if you got the message or if you read it. Even if you did, I’m not sure if you read this blog. But if you read this post, know that I still love you deeply and I always will. You will always hold the place in my heart as the lover who taught me what sex should be like if the chemistry is there. You are the man who showed me what tenderness, respect, and love can combine to be in a D/s relationship. I miss you touching me, kissing me, making me cum over and over again. The memories of what we shared will never leave, and I’m grateful for that because they are some of the most treasured ones I will ever have. While we would never be able to sustain a long-term relationship together and I know that, I will still love you.

Please take care of yourself. I hope you are happy. I hope you are in love. I hope that your world has improved. I often look for you in places where I think I might see you even though I know that I will probably never run into you again. Still, my heart still longs for you.

©2017 WoodLeatherLace.com