What Makes Me Happy

I get PMT. As a teenager being pre-menstrual meant sore breasts and bad headaches. I appear to have largely grown out of such reactions somewhere along the way. Then I went on the pill and avoided periods, PMT and sexual desire altogether. Not actually such a good trade.

Now my sex drive is back and with it the PMT. This time however it involves mood swings, irritability, irrational tearfulness and the dark thoughts that the world would be better off without me.
I can’t express how much I hate these moods that seem to take me over without my consent or control. Once the penny finally drops and I realise that this is what is going on it becomes a little easier to deal with and after all in a week or so all will be well again. Until next month.

In the meantime I want to focus on the things that make me happy:

  • Christmas lights lighting up my house.
  • Hugs, lots and lots of hugs.
  • Perrin bringing me my morning cup of coffee.
  • Lying in bed and listening to Mat and Perrin chatting together in the distance as they work together on something.
  • The beautiful bathrooms my husband makes for me.
  • My boy’s head in my lap when he’s just waking up.
  • Singing (when I can just relax and not worry about being overheard).
  • Late night cocoa made by my boy, especially the spontaneous, unexpected cup where he’s just guessed (always correctly) that I need some.
  • Surprises, adventures and crazy plans.
  • Almost everything Perrin cooks (he knows what the rare exceptions are).
  • Flowers, especially late night Tesco ones (I approve of bargains).
  • Everyone I love together, relaxed and happy.
  • My boy kneeling at my feet and looking up at me with love.
  • Blogging and having something to say.
  • Making lists of things that make me happy.

What are the things that make you happy? Or is it the people that matter?

When We Grow Older

My boyfriend and I were sitting in the sunshine. We were drinking coffee and watching an old couple cross the road. She had a bandaged leg and was walking with two sticks but the two of them were a couple who, like us, had just been sitting in the café drinking coffee.

My boyfriend turned to me. “Do you think we’ll still be perverts when we’re ninety?” he asked.
I replied that I did, after all why should our relationship change because we’re older.
“You realise no one else will find it sexy?” he pointed out. I did and I do. That doesn’t mean we should stop feeling or being sexy though.
There may of course be fewer pictures on the blog and perhaps the tales of our adventures will be blander. After all, getting naked may take us longer, we may no longer be agile enough to do things we now take for granted but I cannot imagine not holding my Boy’s head in my lap and reminding him that he is mine.
Actually the one thing that frightens me about that thought of us being ninety and being kinky is that biology itself may steal it from me.

I’ve been kinky since childhood and my sex drive and my kink drive are effectively the same thing. They have only been separated once when I was made to feel so ashamed of my submission that I couldn’t face it anymore. That shame still occasionally haunts me, a shame which my Domme side is thankfully free of.

My sex drive is something therefore which is part of me, an important part of who I am. Important enough that this blog is a part of my self-expression. That drive was lost though when I was on the pill. The scary thing was how little I realised what was wrong. The sheer delight, the buzzing, vertiginous feeling of pleasure was gone and I couldn’t remember how it felt. I couldn’t feel desire, I was not myself. By choice I will never let go of that part of myself again but nature may have other ideas.

To get from here to ninety the menopause hangs like an ominous bridge between us. Another hormonal shift and this one I cannot avoid. It is, I hope, still a very long way away but I cannot know what it will bring. Perhaps nothing, Puberty didn’t change me so why should its inverse?

In the meantime however I intend to go on being a perverted, dirty little girl and loving every second of it for as long as I can. Hopefully until I’m ninety.

How lucky I am

In the last few months, we’ve been getting to know a few people from around the internet, that I’d like to count as friends. They are like minded, intelligent, sensual people, who enjoy sex, a bit of kink — above all, nice people to know.

Most of them have partners who do not appreciate these qualities in them. To feel fulfilled, they have to be secretive, to deny who they truly are, to be with the one they love.  They sometimes have to go behind their partner’s back. I really don’t judge them for this, I’ve (nearly) been there myself.

It had not been so very long since I was getting my fulfilment from a computer screen, my wife’s sex drive suppressed by contraception (the irony of this is not lost on me!)

We managed to get through that together, more by luck than anything else.

I guess, what I want to say, is how I feel really lucky to be here, with a person I’m deeply in love with. We can share our feelings about ourselves, and others. It’s a position I really appreciate.

Equilibrium

A while ago we watched ‘Equilibrium’. It’s a film set in a bleak future where emotion is forbidden and people are forced to take drugs to suppress their feelings. Clearly the film presents this as a bad situation, but ironically I hadn’t realised just how bad it could be.

Some time ago I started taking the mini pill. In many ways this was an excellent thing. Apart from the contraceptive benefits it also completely suppressed my periods; which were sometimes very uncomfortable. I remember reading the accompanying leaflet and expressing distress at the possible ‘changes in sex drive’. On taking it though, it seemed fine. After taking it for a month I did suspect it had lowered my libido a little but I’m pretty highly sexed normally so there seemed little harm.

I assumed that was that. But although you age a little every day, you never notice it in the mirror in the morning. So bring us up to a few months ago, and our sex life had dropped off almost entirely. When we tried to talk about it, I figured it must be the classic ‘not enough foreplay’ but somehow I could never respond enthusiastically. I dread to think how long this situation might have continued had I not developed other side effects (itching) which made intercourse actually uncomfortable as opposed to merely unexciting.

We went to see a doctor, who after taking a good look, suggested that the problem might be caused by the pill and suggested I come off it. I could see my husband’s face freeze instantly, he was not keen on this idea, but we had nothing else to try.

Even so it took a few weeks before I decided to stop taking it; but after all, I could always start again if it didn’t help. After four days the itching was almost gone, and then, the most amazing thing, I found my pussy was damp. It was a bit like hitting puberty again. I was amazed. I was astonished that I had forgotten that my body used to do that. And then, really like puberty, I kissed my husband and ‘Whoosh’! Talk about a sudden rush of lust. I’d forgotten how it felt, simply to kiss. I really fancy this man!

I rediscovered sex a bit like a traveller in the desert discovering water, drinking thirstily, desperately. Then to my continued surprise, following naturally on, came my submissive feelings, pouring back into me, and I felt suddenly whole. Myself again.

Looking back though, I feel angry. Angry that nobody warned me this could happen, that the pill could steal my enjoyment and lust away, slowly and stealthily. Angry for me, but most of all for my husband. I denied him everything I promised to give him so long before; not simply my body, but my pleasure, my enthusiasm for him and for all that we can do together.

I am still amazed that he bore that time so patiently, still loving and generous, never angry or resentful with me over my rejection of him.  I feel such sorrow that I could have hurt him so badly, even unwillingly. I don’t know how to get past that yet.

My renewed submission is now a continuation of something we started exploring, tentatively, so long ago, and I am grateful, that he has let me so readily return to joy.  Too, I am determined not to let him down. He has earned my devotion many times over, and I will repay in such currency as I have, and as he chooses *grin*.