you have been "out" with a family member for years and years, and they suddenly take issue?
We were invited to hide from the heatwave back at my aunt's air-conditioned house in July. At the time, my cousin was also staying at the house. We asked and were told that it was fine to have a friend with us. We even explained the relationship to the cousin, who then revealed HE had a V-relationship himself.
We were very conscientious and there was no sex, no play, nothing we had to hide from the kids (or anyone else, so we thought). We DID share the master bedroom between the three adults, although a child was often added or an adult subtracted because what else do you do when the kids wake up in the middle of the night? After our stay, we stripped and washed all the linens, restocked the fridge, cleaned the bathrooms, watered the plants, and left things in better shape than when we had arrived.
Tonight, I got a complaint, not from my aunt or my cousin, but from my sister, who says we took advantage of hospitality and are sending mixed messages to the kids and it's wrong.
*raises eyebrow* I am going to resist the urge to turn tables and point at flaws. I'm frustrated and concerned that the claim is "others are uncomfortable". I *think* it's just her being uncomfortable, but it is hard to tell because...well, family talks, right? I don't know quite how to proceed. If I have asked permission of our host to bring a friend, am I "taking advantage"? I feel like I am being forced to choose between my blood-family and my poly-family. Beloved and I have always prided ourselves on being able to balance vanilla and non-vanilla flavors in our lives. Have we been kidding ourselves all along?
The whole thing makes me grumpy.
Bright side, in writing this, I got distracted by looking for poly-themed kids books. There aren't many, but the ones I did find look cute!
Six-Dinner Sid
Else-Marie and Her Seven Little Daddies
Two of Everything
If you happen to know of others, I'd love to know...
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
Shattered
"The book is an attempt to reverse this flow of information, to find objective "evidence" for what she has discovered through private experience, that after the birth of her child a woman's equality is shown to be not the great evolutionary transformation of the modern era, but a kind of temporary, easily revoked passport into the world of men. In Shattered, the emotional becomes the factual and statistical; the private is refracted through the stories of others, elicited in interviews with parents up and down the country and abroad.
Why does a woman become angry when she has a baby? One answer is: because she has lost the power of autonomy and free will in her own life. From the first moment of her pregnancy, a woman finds herself subject to forces over which she has no control, not least those of the body itself. This subjection applies equally to the unknown and the known: she is her body's subject, her doctor's subject, her baby's subject, and in this biological work she has undertaken she becomes society's and history's subject too. But where she feels the subjection most is in the territories, whatever they are, that in her pre-maternal life she made her own. The threat to what made her herself, to what made her an individual: this is what the mother finds hardest to face down. Having been told all her life to value her individuality and pursue its aims, she encounters an outright contradiction, a betrayal – even among the very gatekeepers of her identity, her husband or colleagues or friends – in the requirement that she surrender it.
In fact, a woman is never more of an individual than in her response to the conformity of motherhood: it is her individuality, after all, that is being questioned. This is one of the things that makes the culture of motherhood so difficult to grapple with. Motherhood may look like a genre, but in reality it is an infinitesimal network of secret pacts and compromises, of private bargainings with the self. Beginning with pregnancy and birth, it is taxing in its solitude, as well as taxing of solitude; it takes away all the profit in being alone, and leaves mere loneliness. The new mother – and not just the new mother – is lonely, and yet never on her own.
Rebecca Asher is not wrong to see a general hazard in the adaptation of culturally equal, post-feminist woman to the time-honoured injustices of family life, but formulating a cri de coeur out of it is a delicate matter. Her own indignation has its genesis in the fact that after the birth of their son, the equality that she and her husband, both working professionals, believed they shared was proved to be artificial: with a newborn baby in the house, he was free to resume his old life and return to work, while she was not. Where, then, had this impression of equality come from? And who was responsible for its disappearance? Well, like many intelligent women of her age, no one ever told her that she wasn't equal: it was from outside that the impression came, from the attainments she was free to pursue, the liberties that were available to her, the achievements and jobs she was able to acquire. And no one ever told her husband that he was fettered by his biological destiny, that with the birth of his child his whole life would have to change. So while the old idea of woman had certainly been done away with, no one had thought to put anything in its place. The baby comes and everyone panics, looking for the woman who's going to take care of it, and like the doctor of philosophy summoned over the PA to attend a medical emergency, there's a case of mistaken identity. "Mother" and "woman" are at this stage still just words, but it's a crisis so she'll have to do. A year, three years, five years later she's become a mother, a woman, through hour after hour of experience – and now she really is different, different from her husband, and different from the person she was.
"The expectation that the mother is primarily responsible for the children and family home disfigures our relationships," Asher writes. It might have been better if she had said it had disfigured her relationships, for true as it might be, put so generally it is hard to know exactly what kind of truth it is. Among other things it is the truth of hindsight, of after-knowledge: it is knowledge born of experience. The lesson here is not about motherhood so much perhaps as about womanhood, womanhood not as something granted – and removed, should the necessity arise – by the cultural conditions, but as something personally realised.
The modern woman arrives in motherhood like a shellshocked tourist without a guidebook in a foreign land, and Shattered rails against the brutality of the transfer, the injustice of the new conditions."
Why does a woman become angry when she has a baby? One answer is: because she has lost the power of autonomy and free will in her own life. From the first moment of her pregnancy, a woman finds herself subject to forces over which she has no control, not least those of the body itself. This subjection applies equally to the unknown and the known: she is her body's subject, her doctor's subject, her baby's subject, and in this biological work she has undertaken she becomes society's and history's subject too. But where she feels the subjection most is in the territories, whatever they are, that in her pre-maternal life she made her own. The threat to what made her herself, to what made her an individual: this is what the mother finds hardest to face down. Having been told all her life to value her individuality and pursue its aims, she encounters an outright contradiction, a betrayal – even among the very gatekeepers of her identity, her husband or colleagues or friends – in the requirement that she surrender it.
In fact, a woman is never more of an individual than in her response to the conformity of motherhood: it is her individuality, after all, that is being questioned. This is one of the things that makes the culture of motherhood so difficult to grapple with. Motherhood may look like a genre, but in reality it is an infinitesimal network of secret pacts and compromises, of private bargainings with the self. Beginning with pregnancy and birth, it is taxing in its solitude, as well as taxing of solitude; it takes away all the profit in being alone, and leaves mere loneliness. The new mother – and not just the new mother – is lonely, and yet never on her own.
Rebecca Asher is not wrong to see a general hazard in the adaptation of culturally equal, post-feminist woman to the time-honoured injustices of family life, but formulating a cri de coeur out of it is a delicate matter. Her own indignation has its genesis in the fact that after the birth of their son, the equality that she and her husband, both working professionals, believed they shared was proved to be artificial: with a newborn baby in the house, he was free to resume his old life and return to work, while she was not. Where, then, had this impression of equality come from? And who was responsible for its disappearance? Well, like many intelligent women of her age, no one ever told her that she wasn't equal: it was from outside that the impression came, from the attainments she was free to pursue, the liberties that were available to her, the achievements and jobs she was able to acquire. And no one ever told her husband that he was fettered by his biological destiny, that with the birth of his child his whole life would have to change. So while the old idea of woman had certainly been done away with, no one had thought to put anything in its place. The baby comes and everyone panics, looking for the woman who's going to take care of it, and like the doctor of philosophy summoned over the PA to attend a medical emergency, there's a case of mistaken identity. "Mother" and "woman" are at this stage still just words, but it's a crisis so she'll have to do. A year, three years, five years later she's become a mother, a woman, through hour after hour of experience – and now she really is different, different from her husband, and different from the person she was.
"The expectation that the mother is primarily responsible for the children and family home disfigures our relationships," Asher writes. It might have been better if she had said it had disfigured her relationships, for true as it might be, put so generally it is hard to know exactly what kind of truth it is. Among other things it is the truth of hindsight, of after-knowledge: it is knowledge born of experience. The lesson here is not about motherhood so much perhaps as about womanhood, womanhood not as something granted – and removed, should the necessity arise – by the cultural conditions, but as something personally realised.
The modern woman arrives in motherhood like a shellshocked tourist without a guidebook in a foreign land, and Shattered rails against the brutality of the transfer, the injustice of the new conditions."
Friday, July 29, 2011
Bullets
* It's hot again. *grumbles* I got spoiled by a week with AC and a pool, and I miss it. (yeah, yeah...I know...I *could* probably get a window unit, but then the kids would want to sleep in our room and the electrical in this house would blow so then not only would I be hot, I'd be crowded and PO'ed...so...no.)
* The Wacky Pirate Cruise was fun. Rain and I took the kids for the day and we ALL dressed up as pirates, earning the huzzah from the crew.
* I love rain storm sex. You'll just have to imagine the details cause the kids and the heat totally kill my inspiration to write it up.
* It took three weeks, but I managed to score a single night vacation house rental in Michigan so we can catch up with some wonderful old friends whom we haven't seen in 6+ years. (Crimeee, why do people put nightly rates if they aren't licensed for single night stays???)
* I still am annoyed by my PRESENTATION...not by the topic or the paper, but by my performance, which was subpar by MY (damnably high)standards. Meh. I will find time to work on the project at some point...
* The community is awesome! I really do appreciate the encouragement and support and love...even the insistence that I'm perhaps too hard on myself and demands I take time for ME. You are so very important to me! I don't often have the time to go writing on everyone's wall individually, but your messages and comments mean so, so much to me!!! Thank you...!
* The Wacky Pirate Cruise was fun. Rain and I took the kids for the day and we ALL dressed up as pirates, earning the huzzah from the crew.
* I love rain storm sex. You'll just have to imagine the details cause the kids and the heat totally kill my inspiration to write it up.
* It took three weeks, but I managed to score a single night vacation house rental in Michigan so we can catch up with some wonderful old friends whom we haven't seen in 6+ years. (Crimeee, why do people put nightly rates if they aren't licensed for single night stays???)
* I still am annoyed by my PRESENTATION...not by the topic or the paper, but by my performance, which was subpar by MY (damnably high)standards. Meh. I will find time to work on the project at some point...
* The community is awesome! I really do appreciate the encouragement and support and love...even the insistence that I'm perhaps too hard on myself and demands I take time for ME. You are so very important to me! I don't often have the time to go writing on everyone's wall individually, but your messages and comments mean so, so much to me!!! Thank you...!
Monday, July 25, 2011
Dizzying speeds
This summer is slipping past and I am barely comprehending all that is happening. A brief summary of the last three weeks:http://www.blogger.com/img/blank.gif
July 9th, ShadoKnight and I explored the Exxxotica Expo for an afternoon. My conclusion is that it really is for "straight, vanilla" types who want to spend a weekend being "extremely risque". *laughs* I don't think I even blushed much, but I did enjoy bantering with some of the vendors.
July 14th, the heat descended. This is the first year I can remember that being without air conditioning became an actual problem. For some ridiculous reason, people still *chose* to hang out at our place, but it was becoming real struggle to get through the day. The fact that the heat continued through the night was the final straw. We couldn't do it. My aunt and uncle lent us their home while they have been out of the country, so we have been off routine for about a week.
July 16th, Rain came back from Philly for two weeks. *smiles* She is a real Mary Poppins! She just makes the most extraordinary things happen. At the same time, she has been ALWAYS here, ALWAYS present. Beloved and I have shared the king bed for the last week. Beloved mentioned/complained that he's "lost connection" with me, and I think it is more that we just haven't had alone time in the last three weeks.
July 16th I also went out with Rabbit for the first time in a year. I don't know what will come of that. I suspect I know what SHE hopes to come of that, I just don't know if I am comfortable moving beyond the flirty teasing and delve into a realm I have little experience.
July 20th was the final class for the Presenters Skill Building Series with Sarah Sloane. That also meant it was presentation day for me. I had asked Sir for a lifestyle topic he would like to see me present on, and he immediately came back with "finding self-worth through service". Serious? In a 15 minute time-slot? *wry smile* He always offers a challenge. I spent nearly four weeks researching and reading articles, and then a week agonizing over making the presentation. The day before, I finally got a first draft paper written, and I was pretty happy with it...but it was much, much more than 15 minutes! *sigh* I tried to reframe it, but there just wasn't enough undistracted time. End result, I flubbed Understanding Service: an in-depth exploration of the motivations for service in D/s lifestyles. The group was fairly gentle with their critique in my opinion, but when I saw Beloved's text about "you'll do great", I burst into tears. I *knew* I could have done better, I *knew* I should have had it all done earlier, I *knew* that this was spiraling out of 15-minutes from the beginning. *soft sigh* I haven't given up or tossed the idea. In fact, I have smoothed out a second draft...
July 22nd was Girl's second birthday. I had originally planned quite a gala at our house on July 24th, but the heatwave refused to let up! We ended up cancelling the festivities and hiding in the AC through a thunderstorm. Grumpduh and Aunt B came out for cake and ice cream, but it was very low-key. While everyone had a good time visiting quietly, I feel it is just another disappointment.
In response to a joke last month, I offered her a mock-collar, and I was surprised at the cynical reactions from Beloved. I removed the collar immediately. While making Girl's birthday cake, I was challenged to stop her from eating marshmallows...which I did by threatening a spanking. It was a joke, but she very deliberately defied the directive, forcing the issue. I gave her the spanking and played with the Dommy-headspace a little, but now Rain has also taken it into her head to call me "Miss Pixie"...a vanilla-friendly version of "Mistress". I don't know what to do about this.
This summer has been full of challenges, and none of them have been in my control. Our first camping trip failed when Beloved's mom died suddenly. Our second trip failed due to a hail storm that closed down the campground. The video Beloved made of me and Shado turned out very hot, but exposed emotional experiences that have led to uncomfortable feelings. My service presentation. My daughter's birthday. The complete upheaval of our daily routine. Rain. It's all culminating in time flying past and I am not sure about my footing...
July 9th, ShadoKnight and I explored the Exxxotica Expo for an afternoon. My conclusion is that it really is for "straight, vanilla" types who want to spend a weekend being "extremely risque". *laughs* I don't think I even blushed much, but I did enjoy bantering with some of the vendors.
July 14th, the heat descended. This is the first year I can remember that being without air conditioning became an actual problem. For some ridiculous reason, people still *chose* to hang out at our place, but it was becoming real struggle to get through the day. The fact that the heat continued through the night was the final straw. We couldn't do it. My aunt and uncle lent us their home while they have been out of the country, so we have been off routine for about a week.
July 16th, Rain came back from Philly for two weeks. *smiles* She is a real Mary Poppins! She just makes the most extraordinary things happen. At the same time, she has been ALWAYS here, ALWAYS present. Beloved and I have shared the king bed for the last week. Beloved mentioned/complained that he's "lost connection" with me, and I think it is more that we just haven't had alone time in the last three weeks.
July 16th I also went out with Rabbit for the first time in a year. I don't know what will come of that. I suspect I know what SHE hopes to come of that, I just don't know if I am comfortable moving beyond the flirty teasing and delve into a realm I have little experience.
July 20th was the final class for the Presenters Skill Building Series with Sarah Sloane. That also meant it was presentation day for me. I had asked Sir for a lifestyle topic he would like to see me present on, and he immediately came back with "finding self-worth through service". Serious? In a 15 minute time-slot? *wry smile* He always offers a challenge. I spent nearly four weeks researching and reading articles, and then a week agonizing over making the presentation. The day before, I finally got a first draft paper written, and I was pretty happy with it...but it was much, much more than 15 minutes! *sigh* I tried to reframe it, but there just wasn't enough undistracted time. End result, I flubbed Understanding Service: an in-depth exploration of the motivations for service in D/s lifestyles. The group was fairly gentle with their critique in my opinion, but when I saw Beloved's text about "you'll do great", I burst into tears. I *knew* I could have done better, I *knew* I should have had it all done earlier, I *knew* that this was spiraling out of 15-minutes from the beginning. *soft sigh* I haven't given up or tossed the idea. In fact, I have smoothed out a second draft...
July 22nd was Girl's second birthday. I had originally planned quite a gala at our house on July 24th, but the heatwave refused to let up! We ended up cancelling the festivities and hiding in the AC through a thunderstorm. Grumpduh and Aunt B came out for cake and ice cream, but it was very low-key. While everyone had a good time visiting quietly, I feel it is just another disappointment.
In response to a joke last month, I offered her a mock-collar, and I was surprised at the cynical reactions from Beloved. I removed the collar immediately. While making Girl's birthday cake, I was challenged to stop her from eating marshmallows...which I did by threatening a spanking. It was a joke, but she very deliberately defied the directive, forcing the issue. I gave her the spanking and played with the Dommy-headspace a little, but now Rain has also taken it into her head to call me "Miss Pixie"...a vanilla-friendly version of "Mistress". I don't know what to do about this.
This summer has been full of challenges, and none of them have been in my control. Our first camping trip failed when Beloved's mom died suddenly. Our second trip failed due to a hail storm that closed down the campground. The video Beloved made of me and Shado turned out very hot, but exposed emotional experiences that have led to uncomfortable feelings. My service presentation. My daughter's birthday. The complete upheaval of our daily routine. Rain. It's all culminating in time flying past and I am not sure about my footing...
Thursday, July 7, 2011
Pixies and Fairies
They are NOT the same thing.
The legend of the pixie (also piskies, pisgies, pigsies and west country fairies) is unique to Britain, particularly concentrated in the areas of Devon, Somerset and Cornwall in southern England, suggesting a Celtic origin for the belief and the name.
Some believe them to be the earliest inhabitants of England, drawing on possible relations to the Picts. One British scholar took pixie myth seriously enough to state his belief that “pixies were evidently a smaller race, and, from the greater obscurity of the...tales about them, I believe them to have been an earlier race.”
In Devon, pixies are said to be “invisibly small, and harmless or friendly to man.” Others say they are no larger than a human hand but can change their size at will. In yet other legends and accounts they are presented as having near human stature.
They are fond of music and dancing. They dance in the shadows of the standing stones, or gambol on the edges of tumbling stream. Their bells can be heard deep in the heart of the many tors on the moor.
In Somerset, it is said that pixies and fairies are antagonists and fought a huge battle at Buckland St. Mary. The pixies were victorious and still visit the area. The fairies are said to have left after their loss.
Dartmoor tales include a passion for horses. Pixies steal horses or ponies at night, riding them across the moor for pleasure, twisting their manes to spur them on. The horses are back before dawn, leaving only the tangled ringlets in the manes as evidence.
Before the mid 19th Century pixies and fairies were taken seriously in much of Cornwall and Devon. Books devoted to the homely beliefs of the peasantry are filled with incidents of pixie manifestations.
In some areas, belief in pixies has endured into contemporary times. During the construction of Hinkley Point nuclear power station, anything that went wrong was blamed on "the Pixy," with the station being built near Wick's Barrow, an Iron Age burial mound called "Pixies Mound" by the locals.
Still, pixies' contact with "normal humans" is greatly diminished. One Cornish author by the name of Drew wrote, "The age of Pixies, like that of Chivalry, is gone. There is, perhaps, at present hardly a house they are reputed to visit. Even the fields and lanes which they formerly frequented seem to be nearly forsaken. Their music is rarely heard." If you know me, you can appreciate that sometimes I am hard to find.
Though pixies and faeries seem to have much in common, and are often viewed as interchangeable, they are two distinct species. Pixies enjoy a human origin and “partake of human nature”. They love humans, taking some for mates. Fairies, on the other hand, have origins traced to immaterial spirit forces.
Traditionally, pixies are nearly ageless and uncommonly beautiful, though there are some called "pixie" who have a distorted and strange appearance. In art they are often depicted wearing a green outfit and pointed hat. These are Victorian Era conventions and not part of the older mythology. In reality, pixies generally enjoy loose, flowing garments or go unclothed, though they are sensitive to human need for covering. They do have a weakness for bits of finery, and "pretty things" are highly prized by them.
The debate as to whether or not pixies have wings is again based on the confusion between pixies and fairies. Pixies don't have wings, although personally, I envy fairies for them!
Pixies are conscientious of their human counterparts and reward consideration and punish neglect. Some believe that pixies are natural spirits, generally benign and sometimes helpful to humans, such as helping needy widows and others with housework (which links them with other household elves such as brownies.) By their presence they bring blessings to those who are fond of them. Even within living memory, some rural families left small gifts, such as bowls of food or saucers of milk, for the pixies in order to placate them.
However, their curiosity and not-quite-mortal facets lead them to mischief. Some pixies are said to steal children. They are also known for being malicious tricksters who enjoy playing pranks on people if they feel such attentions have been earned. Sometimes pixies may confuse mortals so thoroughly that they never recover and wander aimlessly through the countryside singing or talking a mysterious language. This condition is known as being "pixie-led".
The term "pixie-led" has been transformed into the modern word pixilated, which has nothing to do with computer images at all but instead means: behaving as if mentally unbalanced, very eccentric, whimsical, prankish, bemused, intoxicated or drunk.
The legend of the pixie (also piskies, pisgies, pigsies and west country fairies) is unique to Britain, particularly concentrated in the areas of Devon, Somerset and Cornwall in southern England, suggesting a Celtic origin for the belief and the name.
Some believe them to be the earliest inhabitants of England, drawing on possible relations to the Picts. One British scholar took pixie myth seriously enough to state his belief that “pixies were evidently a smaller race, and, from the greater obscurity of the...tales about them, I believe them to have been an earlier race.”
In Devon, pixies are said to be “invisibly small, and harmless or friendly to man.” Others say they are no larger than a human hand but can change their size at will. In yet other legends and accounts they are presented as having near human stature.
They are fond of music and dancing. They dance in the shadows of the standing stones, or gambol on the edges of tumbling stream. Their bells can be heard deep in the heart of the many tors on the moor.
In Somerset, it is said that pixies and fairies are antagonists and fought a huge battle at Buckland St. Mary. The pixies were victorious and still visit the area. The fairies are said to have left after their loss.
Dartmoor tales include a passion for horses. Pixies steal horses or ponies at night, riding them across the moor for pleasure, twisting their manes to spur them on. The horses are back before dawn, leaving only the tangled ringlets in the manes as evidence.
Before the mid 19th Century pixies and fairies were taken seriously in much of Cornwall and Devon. Books devoted to the homely beliefs of the peasantry are filled with incidents of pixie manifestations.
In some areas, belief in pixies has endured into contemporary times. During the construction of Hinkley Point nuclear power station, anything that went wrong was blamed on "the Pixy," with the station being built near Wick's Barrow, an Iron Age burial mound called "Pixies Mound" by the locals.
Still, pixies' contact with "normal humans" is greatly diminished. One Cornish author by the name of Drew wrote, "The age of Pixies, like that of Chivalry, is gone. There is, perhaps, at present hardly a house they are reputed to visit. Even the fields and lanes which they formerly frequented seem to be nearly forsaken. Their music is rarely heard." If you know me, you can appreciate that sometimes I am hard to find.
Though pixies and faeries seem to have much in common, and are often viewed as interchangeable, they are two distinct species. Pixies enjoy a human origin and “partake of human nature”. They love humans, taking some for mates. Fairies, on the other hand, have origins traced to immaterial spirit forces.
Traditionally, pixies are nearly ageless and uncommonly beautiful, though there are some called "pixie" who have a distorted and strange appearance. In art they are often depicted wearing a green outfit and pointed hat. These are Victorian Era conventions and not part of the older mythology. In reality, pixies generally enjoy loose, flowing garments or go unclothed, though they are sensitive to human need for covering. They do have a weakness for bits of finery, and "pretty things" are highly prized by them.
The debate as to whether or not pixies have wings is again based on the confusion between pixies and fairies. Pixies don't have wings, although personally, I envy fairies for them!
Pixies are conscientious of their human counterparts and reward consideration and punish neglect. Some believe that pixies are natural spirits, generally benign and sometimes helpful to humans, such as helping needy widows and others with housework (which links them with other household elves such as brownies.) By their presence they bring blessings to those who are fond of them. Even within living memory, some rural families left small gifts, such as bowls of food or saucers of milk, for the pixies in order to placate them.
However, their curiosity and not-quite-mortal facets lead them to mischief. Some pixies are said to steal children. They are also known for being malicious tricksters who enjoy playing pranks on people if they feel such attentions have been earned. Sometimes pixies may confuse mortals so thoroughly that they never recover and wander aimlessly through the countryside singing or talking a mysterious language. This condition is known as being "pixie-led".
The term "pixie-led" has been transformed into the modern word pixilated, which has nothing to do with computer images at all but instead means: behaving as if mentally unbalanced, very eccentric, whimsical, prankish, bemused, intoxicated or drunk.
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
How was YOUR Fourth of July?
ShadoKnight's wife accepted an internship out in Washington State for the summer, so he is kind of at loose ends. Yesterday, he ended up joining us...kids, Beloved, and me...for dinner and fireworks
There was a bit of joking about how the rest of the night might proceed, but no promises. We went to the fireworks and used a ton of bug spray...we avoided the mosquitoes but everyone desperately needed a shower when we got home.
We got the kids to bed, Beloved went and showered first, and I decided 'fuck it' and went to the master bath to use the tub. Shado watched me strip, and then somewhat awkwardly hung out in the bedroom, talking to me, trying not to leer...*laughs*
Beloved came walking down the hall, buck naked (cause he doesn't have ANY reserves about nudity!) and told Shado that the shower was free, realized Shado was trying to watch me without watching me, and walked into the bathroom very deliberately to get Shado a towel, kinda like saying "Yeah, I know, and it's cool". Shado went off and showered, Beloved washed my hair and checked in..we were okay, so...
When Shado came back to the bedroom, Beloved suggested that we do a video for his collection...he has been building a collection of me giving BJs for a while now. There was some blushing and giggling, but we decided that would be a start... and a bit of frantic "pickup-n-shove-into-the-closet" and Shado was then sitting on the trunk at the end of the bed, kissing me...all three of us naked...Beloved using Shado's iPhone to record...
Shado and I necked for a minute or two before I knelt down and took his cock in my mouth...(he is rather large for me *shrug*) I got him all hot and bothered, panting, really making a tease show for the camera...
He finally grabbed my by the hair (totally *not* a Shado thing to do) and pulled me up, kissing me frantically, and then while I was off balance, shoved me onto the bed. Shado practically pounced me, a hand on a breast, the other pressing my thighs open as his tongue found my clit.
Beloved lasted maybe a minute of this before HE climbed on the bed and pushed his cock into my mouth. It was fucking HAWT!!! I tried to keep focus, but there was no way...Shado teased an orgasm from me, and I lost Beloved because of gasping, crying, panting
They both cuddled up to me, kissing me, petting me. Kind of like a eye of a hurricane, the break gave them the chance to check the damage. I was a little la-la, but we were all kinda joking...Beloved said something, and I play slapped him on the face.
You know when you can SEE the sadist come into your Owner's eyes? yeah... Beloved was all..."Oh, really?"
He grabbed my legs and swung them over his, made me count 5 swats...not HARD, but kind of showy...It kind of unnerved Shado to actually SEE it...he's been a friend for years and years, knows we play a bit in the BDSM realm, but has never seen it....ya know?
So Saul had come put to play...puts on a little bit more of a show...like I was peeking through my fingers, and he said something like, "Oh, I could show Shado another thing you like..." and pressed slightly on my hand, making it harder to breathe. My mild fight brought the suggestion of my new cuffs (bought 'em from Elegant as SJW this year). Little bits like that...all the while, Shado is playing the angel to Saul's devil...it was unnerving but fun.
Shado decided to break the mood and suckled my breast, commenting to Saul that I have awesome boobies, who cheerfully agreed and grabbed my other breast...Saul's hand slipped between my legs, teasing my clit, and the two of them started kissing down my ribs and sides...until I had one tongue on my clit and another fucking me...
I was...not coherent? *laughs* Beloved said that he's never seen me so wet so fast...It was just mind-blowing...Perhaps in part because I never in a million years even imagined such an experience. Beloved slid back up, whispering in my ear, telling me to cum for him...and I did...hard.
Then Shado was next to me too, petting me, and looking up at the two of them...both so loving and protective...It was breath-taking. I couldn't really put a sentance together anymore, but they decide Beloved was going to sleep on the couch and Shado in the bed with me...
They were getting cleaned up and I came back enough to find my jammies. Shado grabbed his computer and the guys tinkered with getting the video off the phone...There was some rational bit of my mind that registered my two lovers were sitting side-by-side, naked, watching a video of what we had just done....
*giggles and blushes*
Beloved then tucked me into bed, Shado curled up next to me and whispered how amazing I am and how awesome that was to share...it was about 2am at that point, and I just shut down...slept pretty well until about 6:45 when alarms started going off and the guys had to get to work...
There was a bit of joking about how the rest of the night might proceed, but no promises. We went to the fireworks and used a ton of bug spray...we avoided the mosquitoes but everyone desperately needed a shower when we got home.
We got the kids to bed, Beloved went and showered first, and I decided 'fuck it' and went to the master bath to use the tub. Shado watched me strip, and then somewhat awkwardly hung out in the bedroom, talking to me, trying not to leer...*laughs*
Beloved came walking down the hall, buck naked (cause he doesn't have ANY reserves about nudity!) and told Shado that the shower was free, realized Shado was trying to watch me without watching me, and walked into the bathroom very deliberately to get Shado a towel, kinda like saying "Yeah, I know, and it's cool". Shado went off and showered, Beloved washed my hair and checked in..we were okay, so...
When Shado came back to the bedroom, Beloved suggested that we do a video for his collection...he has been building a collection of me giving BJs for a while now. There was some blushing and giggling, but we decided that would be a start... and a bit of frantic "pickup-n-shove-into-the-closet" and Shado was then sitting on the trunk at the end of the bed, kissing me...all three of us naked...Beloved using Shado's iPhone to record...
Shado and I necked for a minute or two before I knelt down and took his cock in my mouth...(he is rather large for me *shrug*) I got him all hot and bothered, panting, really making a tease show for the camera...
He finally grabbed my by the hair (totally *not* a Shado thing to do) and pulled me up, kissing me frantically, and then while I was off balance, shoved me onto the bed. Shado practically pounced me, a hand on a breast, the other pressing my thighs open as his tongue found my clit.
Beloved lasted maybe a minute of this before HE climbed on the bed and pushed his cock into my mouth. It was fucking HAWT!!! I tried to keep focus, but there was no way...Shado teased an orgasm from me, and I lost Beloved because of gasping, crying, panting
They both cuddled up to me, kissing me, petting me. Kind of like a eye of a hurricane, the break gave them the chance to check the damage. I was a little la-la, but we were all kinda joking...Beloved said something, and I play slapped him on the face.
You know when you can SEE the sadist come into your Owner's eyes? yeah... Beloved was all..."Oh, really?"
He grabbed my legs and swung them over his, made me count 5 swats...not HARD, but kind of showy...It kind of unnerved Shado to actually SEE it...he's been a friend for years and years, knows we play a bit in the BDSM realm, but has never seen it....ya know?
So Saul had come put to play...puts on a little bit more of a show...like I was peeking through my fingers, and he said something like, "Oh, I could show Shado another thing you like..." and pressed slightly on my hand, making it harder to breathe. My mild fight brought the suggestion of my new cuffs (bought 'em from Elegant as SJW this year). Little bits like that...all the while, Shado is playing the angel to Saul's devil...it was unnerving but fun.
Shado decided to break the mood and suckled my breast, commenting to Saul that I have awesome boobies, who cheerfully agreed and grabbed my other breast...Saul's hand slipped between my legs, teasing my clit, and the two of them started kissing down my ribs and sides...until I had one tongue on my clit and another fucking me...
I was...not coherent? *laughs* Beloved said that he's never seen me so wet so fast...It was just mind-blowing...Perhaps in part because I never in a million years even imagined such an experience. Beloved slid back up, whispering in my ear, telling me to cum for him...and I did...hard.
Then Shado was next to me too, petting me, and looking up at the two of them...both so loving and protective...It was breath-taking. I couldn't really put a sentance together anymore, but they decide Beloved was going to sleep on the couch and Shado in the bed with me...
They were getting cleaned up and I came back enough to find my jammies. Shado grabbed his computer and the guys tinkered with getting the video off the phone...There was some rational bit of my mind that registered my two lovers were sitting side-by-side, naked, watching a video of what we had just done....
*giggles and blushes*
Beloved then tucked me into bed, Shado curled up next to me and whispered how amazing I am and how awesome that was to share...it was about 2am at that point, and I just shut down...slept pretty well until about 6:45 when alarms started going off and the guys had to get to work...
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Moontimes stink
Yup, I have to share...rant...complain...about still having a menstrual cycle. I mean, seriously, I've done my thing and reproduced. Can't I be done with the friggin' moontimes, too?
I dunno. It's not like I hide the fact that I bleed monthly. I complain about it here often enough. The kids know about it (That's not exactly by choice, but there is an awkward dilemma about closing the bathroom door on two VERY smart, VERY curious kids or having them waltz into the bathroom to find me dealing with my body's functions. Boy has asked about the blood and I've explained that it means I'm not going to have another baby, which mostly satisfies him; he likes Girl, but she's still too little be really be fun). I use a Keeper, so I have TMI about what exactly I am losing every month. *shrug* That doesn't bother me. Much.
But mix moontime and sex, and I get a little squirrely. I've had talks with some of my lovers, and they don't have a problem with my cycle. No, it's not a hot fetish thing, but it doesn't *matter* either. It really is just me fretting. I get too embarrassed to enjoy the sex, and that is on top of my usual quirks. So...yeah. Moontimes stink.
I dunno. It's not like I hide the fact that I bleed monthly. I complain about it here often enough. The kids know about it (That's not exactly by choice, but there is an awkward dilemma about closing the bathroom door on two VERY smart, VERY curious kids or having them waltz into the bathroom to find me dealing with my body's functions. Boy has asked about the blood and I've explained that it means I'm not going to have another baby, which mostly satisfies him; he likes Girl, but she's still too little be really be fun). I use a Keeper, so I have TMI about what exactly I am losing every month. *shrug* That doesn't bother me. Much.
But mix moontime and sex, and I get a little squirrely. I've had talks with some of my lovers, and they don't have a problem with my cycle. No, it's not a hot fetish thing, but it doesn't *matter* either. It really is just me fretting. I get too embarrassed to enjoy the sex, and that is on top of my usual quirks. So...yeah. Moontimes stink.
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