Friday, August 24, 2012

How I fell in love with the wooden spoon

Yeah, you read that right.

I was grouchy. We're tired a lot, having a hard time adapting to shifting schedules, and I was in my submissive shutdown mode. My husband was waiting in bed and I was reading some random blog by someone I don't even know.

"Come to bed, my girl," he told me, standing naked, or nearly so, in the bedroom's door frame.

I waited a few minutes and then I did. I like obeying even when I don't think anything will come of it, even when my internal voice is telling me this is all stupid, that this game we play is clearly ridiculous and why are we even doing this? It's quite conflicted, living inside my head.

He grabbed me as I came into bed, pulling me against him. "Mine!" he said, not even letting me adjust my position. He held me against his chest and we talked, our voices low in the night.

Eventually he told me to turn over onto my belly, and he rubbed my back, adding a good scratch at my request. God, I love for him to scratch my back. I swear it's like magic. After all these years he knows exactly how much pressure to apply to make me groan with the release of perfectly scratched back skin.

"Give me your wrists," he said, tugging my hands behind my head. I bent my elbows and put my wrists together behind my neck. He slid the soft cuffs onto me, clicking them together and holding my hands in place. I moaned softly as I felt it, my submissive nature fully freed as soon as my movement was genuinely restricted.

"Whose are you?" he asked, close to my head.

"Yours," I whispered into the pillow.

"Whose?" he asked again, perhaps not having heard me, perhaps just to drive the point home.

"Yours," I said again, a little louder.

"And do you like to be mine?"

"Mmhmm!" I responded.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes!" I am definitely sure about that.

"You wouldn't prefer to just be my equal?"

"Noooo," I said.

"You like being my plaything? You like pleasing me? You like me using you?" His hands wandered over my back, my ass, my legs as he spoke.

"Yes," I answered softly to each question.

"Anything else? Or have I about covered it?"

"I think you got it."

I felt the soft tickler brush over my back, down my ass. "I like making you feel good," he said as I sighed softly with the gentle caress. The next thing he stroked me with was the smooth edge of our wooden spoon. I inhaled sharply, fear overtaking me. Oh, he can make that hurt so badly. He  didn't, though, just tapped lightly with it, my fear releasing with each gentle tap against my skin.

He built it up slowly, covering my ass with little taps, then again with slightly heavier ones, and again, each time increasing the strength of his swing. It felt incredible and it went on for what seemed like forever.

I was moaning deeply, screaming with pleasure, lifting my ass up to meet the spoon.

"Oh, my girl likes that," he noted aloud, with a detached-sounding sort of interest. "Maybe I should stop." He did, briefly, not spanking me anymore.

"Oh, no," I pleaded.

"What's that, my girl? What do you want me to do?"

I was silent while I processed his question. "Spank me?"

"You want me to spank you with this wooden spoon?"

"Oh, yes."

"Okay then." He started again and it was brilliant. I raised up so high that he had easy access to the backs of my thighs, and he hit those too. I was soaring, each strike seeming to hit some sort of sweet spot inside me that released groan after groan of deep pleasure and fulfillment. I have never imagined I could feel so good from having that spoon applied to any part of me.

His hand followed the spoon and I was squirming, doing my best to get away, my backside unbelievably tenderized from the application of the spoon. "Mine, mine, mine!" he said with each impact of his hand on my rosy flesh. I lifted my ass even higher in the air, his chant of ownership flooding me with pleasure and the desire to please, and his hand was wrapping around and slapping my pussy at the same time. Oh, fuck, yes.

Several times during the entire spanking process I thought I might orgasm just from the feelings crashing over me. I was very, very vocal in my appreciation.

He stopped, pulling me over onto my side against him. "I'm going to fuck you," he announced into my ear, pulling my legs apart and sliding his fingers between them. I shivered as his voice traveled  into my  brain, the vibrations along my ear canal making me sigh with pleasure, the sound of his words striking glee into my heart.

But then his hand was moving, slapping my nipple. "Oh!" I cried out, surprised, arching my breast into his hands. He rained blows onto my nipples then, making me scream for what seemed an eternity. Oh, God. I writhed against him, feeling his hard cock pressing against my sensitized ass, thankfully unable to escape the blows as I backed into his body. He was spanking me deeper and deeper against him.

"I'm going to fuck you," he repeated softly. He pulled my legs open again, and then he was spanking my thighs. His fingers slid inside me easily. "Oh, my girl gets so wet from having her nipples slapped," he said into my ear. I shivered. I do. I can't help it. He pressed his cock against my pussy, rocking his hips.

"Oh, please fuck me," I broke down, begging.

"You want this cock?" he asked. He fisted his cock, sliding just the head inside me, his hand stopping more from going inside. I squirmed against him, trying to take more.

"Easy, girl," he whispered, his voice rough with passion. I tried to lunge back onto him, but his hand was in the way. "You'll get as much cock as I want you to have," he said roughly, his other hand squeezing my shoulder. I stilled, trembling, wanting to feel him buried all the way inside me, to feel his body pressed completely against mine. God. He is such a fucking tease.

I made a whiny noise. "Good girl," he said, pressing a little deeper into me. My pussy squeezed his cock in welcome and I tilted my hips, rocking just so slightly back onto him. He took the invitation and sank all the way in. I think we both groaned.

He started rocking with me, his hand returning to slapping my nipples as we moved. Oh, I was done for, and then his other hand was grabbing handfuls of my hair and squeezing, holding, then releasing and moving to a new handful, his voice ever present in my ear, telling me I was a good fuck hole, that I belonged to him, calling me a good girl, making me scream, groan, twist. Oh. Oh, yes. I couldn't have asked for a better fuck, and I had been a grouchy annoyance. Oh, hell, does he ever know how to set me straight. Or kinky.

And now I can't wait until he uses that fucking spoon again.

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

e[lust] #39

Welcome to e[lust] - The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you're looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it'll be here at e[lust]. Want to be included in e[lust] #40? Start with the newly updated rules, come back September 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ Top 3 ~

Never Pinch a Sadist: 50 Shades of Plaid - If you don't know kink, don't feel pressured into it. If you wonder what it is about, join Fetlife and find local event to teach you about it.

Collars & closure & owning myself - there is triumph in realizing that your paths are diverging, repacking your shit, and moving on with dignity and respect.

The Quarry - We agreed to meet up on the weekend and go out to the quarry. It was an old, flooded quarry. I didn’t know it, but the queers had taken it over.

~ Featured Post (Picked by Lilly) ~

The Pussy Pride Project

~ e[lust] Editress ~

"I can't orgasm without a vibrator" So What? - Embrace it. Bring it in to your partnered sex life. Be happy that you can achieve orgasm whatever way that works for you.

All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Erotic Writing

A Guest for Dinner
A Beautiful Need
A Purring Machine
A Hard Man is Good to Find
Chlorine Kisses
In a different world
I Crave You!
Lolita Twenty-Twelve, Part Four
Mojo Back
My 69th Orgasm
Owned Part 4
Sensual room service
Tease Me
The Space Between
The Text
The Wicked Wench of Wupert Stweet
The Desk of Power
Use Me
What I'm thinking about when I'm...
When Frederick Met Camille

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Living with an Alpha Sub
Make Her Cum
Swinging and safe sex
Talking with the Lights Off
The Promiscuous Bisexual
Why Do I Have More Respect For Men Than MRAs?
What not to do for anal sex
Wants, Needs & Poly
Wifi Sex?

Kink & Fetish

A Boot Scene
Consent as Torture
Mores and Behavior
Pursuit of Squirting
Playing With Lightning
Submissive men: A celebration of beauty
strapping first time
Submission for a Femdom Facesitting Film
rethinking warmup

Monday, August 20, 2012

Nearly squirting

I don't have the intense details of the sex, the spanking, the flogging that I know occurred.

But I do have an interesting anecdote.

I have the Mirena IUC for birth control, and while it has never bothered me on its own and has done many things to make my life better, occasionally particularly vigorous or rough sex will push the strings up behind my cervix. It hurts. Besides that, I've heard horror stories about the device migrating and even after several years of having it there, those don't leave my head. So when, after awesome sex, I feel pain around my cervix, I have a need to check it.

Don't read any further if you're the sort to shout "TMI!"

I reached my fingers inside myself, but either my husband's cock or his hand that followed had lengthened my vagina and I couldn't feel my cervix.

"My cervix is gone," I groaned, exhausted after multiple screaming orgasms. I tottered off into the bathroom to try to get a better angle, because I knew it was in there somewhere. I squatted over the toilet, and as I reached inside my vagina, my knuckles bumped into my g-spot. From that little bump, clear fluid came pouring out of me, all over my hand. "What the..." I muttered to myself.

I spent some time examining my hand, sniffing it, even tasting it at one point.

Not urine.


It didn't feel like anything at all when it happened. It was certainly interesting.

I fixed my strings, washed my hands, and told my husband the story as I curled up in his arms.

So bizarre.

Sunday, August 19, 2012

Free time

I have none.

But with family time ratcheted up a bit, there's lots of idle hand time, with a munchkin who isn't paying attention to what I'm really doing. So I've put my hands to work while we watch movies.

This one is actually for sale.

"So, what, you going for one a day now?" my husband asks.

The blue and white one turned out so spectacularly beautiful that I gifted it to my husband, whose favorite color is blue. I will probably make another one later.

Friday, August 17, 2012

Like coming home

"Oh, what a wet pussy. You don't mind if I taste this pussy, do you?"

My response was to toss my head and groan deeply. I wanted his cock inside me.

"I didn't think so." His face was buried between my legs before I could think about it, his tongue lapping at my clit. His fingers slid inside as he explored the rest of my sex with his tongue. Sensations flooded me - wet tongue, hard fingers, sliding, stroking. I bucked.

"Please," I begged again when he pulled his face away. I had been begging for a while now.

"Please what?"

"Oh, God, please fuck me with your cock."

"Oh, is that what you want?"

On top of me, he slid just the head of his cock inside my wet, needy hole and he teased me. "You wanted this in your mouth, didn't you?" He rocked back and forth, fucking me with just the head of his cock. I arched up into him, trying to engulf him, but he pulled away each time, maintaining the slight penetration.

"Yes, yes," I agreed, panting, desperate, my body surging uselessly beneath him. So near and yet so fucking far.

"Poor girl. So long since she's been properly fucked. How's this, baby?" He slowly sank a little more of his cock inside me, to many happy noises from me.

I watched him through half-closed eyes as he sank all the way inside me, my mouth opening in a scream of absolute joy as he bottomed out. Oh, fuck, yes. I closed my eyes again with the sheer pleasure as I lifted my hips into him, circling slowly, stroking his hardness with my insides.

"Look at me while I fuck you. Yeah, there you are. I'm fucking you," he growled down into my face, as screams streamed endlessly out of me. Fuck, he felt fantastic after so very, very long. Every millimeter of his hardness driving down into me made me squeal with delight. The strokes out were just as slow, creating anticipation for when the emptiness would be filled again. Days with no sex make this one very sad girl.

"Don't ever stop," I begged him softly as we moved slowly together.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you?" he asked as we ground into each other.

He didn't, of course. But then there were his fingers, sliding against all the parts so freshly fucked, wrenching orgasm after orgasm from my trembling, sighing, screaming body. "Come for me, baby, that's right, good girl."

Is there any better way to be a good girl than by responding to a command to come over and over and over? I think not.

He seemed finished, but as he stroked my back with his fingertips I screamed. "Oh, God, my love, you've turned my entire body into an erogenous zone," I whimpered as he kept touching my back, my side, my neck, my nipple.

"Oooh, I like to touch your erogenous zones," he responded, and proceeded to do so, despite my begging, screaming, and trembling.

"Ooh, look at you. Are you about to come just from me touching you?"

I was. I was shaking, whimpering, very, very close.

And then I felt his cock, hard again against my back. Apparently an oversensitive girl who nearly orgasms from light touches to vast expanses of skin is a major turn-on for my man.

"You want my cock again?"

"Oh, yes," I whispered.

Afterward, as we lay basking in the glow of our amazing fuck session, I said "Let's not ever, ever go that long without sex again."

Three nights is way, way too long.

Apologies for the rough-hewn nature of the post. I fear I haven't time to flesh it out properly or even introduce it.

Sunday, August 12, 2012

Some other beginning's end

Every new beginning comes from one, you know. This night was one of the ending ones: my mom's last night here in our apartment with us before she goes back to the other side of the country.

My husband's been playing with me without a lot of pain lately - spankings turned to love taps, although thankfully the nipple pinching never went anywhere. I was beginning to feel that he thought pain was the only way to turn me on. It's not. I like lots of things, pain just happens to be one. When he started flogging my ass last night by gently smacking the flogger against my skin, and it made a pathetic little "flup," sound, I giggled.

"What? That's funny?" He did it again.

I giggled again. "I can barely even feel that!"

"Oh, huh. I thought you didn't want any pain."

"Husband, let me tell you something. It's going to be pretty hard to hurt me there."

"I see. As opposed to your thighs?" he confirmed.

"Mmhmm," I giggled again as he let the flogger flup against my backside once more. The giggle dissolved into a deep moan when he brought the flogger down with more force, feeling incredible as it thudded heavily against my body. He kept that up, actually bringing it down harder and harder, and I began to squirm as the delicious thumps built heat and sensitivity into my skin. He paused for breaks now and then, trailing the soft rope ends of the flogger over my ass, hearing my soft moans of pleasure from the delicate sensation.

His hand crashed into my ass, hard, making me jump. He did it again, swapping sides, and again.

"Oh, God, you can actually leave my ass there," I whispered. It felt like he was trying to eradicate it.

"I thought it would be hard to hurt you here?" he asked, landing another smack down just as hard.

"That is hard, love," I explained, jumping at the contact as he rubbed gently over the inflamed skin.

"I see," he said, and let his blows become a little less like anvils, a little more like hands. I resumed my happy moaning and wriggling.

He had me turn over after a while, pulling my legs open, gently slapping my spread thighs and my pussy until I arched up into his touch. Oh, the fire he was building was going to be spectacular when it was lit. "Mine!" he whispered at intervals as his open hand slapped into my delicate parts, making me groan each time.

He moved suddenly, his face between my spread thighs, and his tongue was working against my clit as his fingers slipped inside my pussy, pressing into my g-spot, making me buck and moan. His lips pressed against mine afterward and I responded gleefully, licking and sucking his lips that tasted and smelled of me.

"I am going to shove something in your ass." He paused for effect, then continued: "Then I'm going to make you suck my cock. Because I can. Because I want to."

He took out a plug and the lube, pushing me over gently onto my stomach again, lubing me for the invasion.

"It's a little cold. But it's okay, you'll warm it up," he assured me as he slipped the plug inside me. This was the Mood Naughty, a lot smaller and easier to accept than the Big End.

That's when he started the pleasure, the endless rolling waves of pleasure that crashed over me. My hair eventually worked itself all around my face, forming a net that caught my panted breath as surely as any more solid barrier. Steam built against my face as I writhed under the movements of his hand on my clit, inside me, pressing against my g-spot, teasing the base of the plug. I screamed, over and over, and could not get enough air. My hands moved to wipe the hair out of my face but they kept stopping to claw at the sheets, to slap against the bed. My screams bled into deep, satisfied moans as my body lifted, curling against the onslaught and then back down into his unrelenting touch.

"This," I panted, several orgasms in, "Oh, God, this is not... oh, god, this is not what getting your cock sucked looks like."

"Oh, I know," he responded smoothly, deftly bringing another orgasm, enjoying the way I curled, whether into it or against it, the way that I vibrated helplessly under the spell he wove with his magical fingertips. "This is all still part of shoving something in your ass. Thanks for the reminder, though." His voice rose slightly so I could hear him over my own pants and squeals, over the sound my open palms kept making when they slapped against the mattress.

"Is my girl ready to suck my cock?" he asked softly as my screams quieted and my breathing returned to a less ragged state. I nodded, my face still lost in the steamy cage created by my fallen hair. "Does she need a minute?" he asked, as I lay there, unmoving except for the rise and fall of the deep breaths I was taking. "I don't think I want to give her a minute. I want my cock sucked now. Come on, girl."

I inhaled roughly as I brushed the hair away from my face, the damp strands clinging to my hot skin. The cooler air of the bedroom rushed against my flushed face and it felt heavenly as I moved, turning on my side and scooting down so my face was even with his gorgeous cock. I filled my lungs with fresh air, with the newly clean scent of him, and I moaned as I sucked his cock into my mouth, swirling my tongue, using my lips to gently tug at his foreskin as he slid all the way to the back of my throat.

"Oh, yes, that's a good, good cocksucker," he praised me, causing another moan to rise from the depths of my being. Oh, yes, I do love being his good cocksucker. My deep moan around his cock was accompanied by a renewed surge of sucking, harder, deeper, gagging ever so slightly as he passed the entrance of my throat. My hands pulled his ass to me, stroked his balls, and we moved together, a timeless dance punctuated by our mutual sounds of pleasure and the occasional gag from me. I poured every ounce of the devotion that I feel toward him, of my appreciation for the pleasure he had already granted me, into my actions.

He was loud. He moaned repeatedly when he came, his hands tugging on my hair, pulling my head close to him. I rejoiced in his loudness as I struggled to swallow the copious amounts of seed he spilled into my mouth, down my throat. I suckled gently at his cock as it softened, whispering to him how perfectly it is formed, how much I love touching him there.

I finally left him alone and scooted up, his arms going around me automatically, his hand cupping my face as our lips met in a final kiss before sleeping.

Wednesday, August 8, 2012

So it goes

Today has been our wedding anniversary.

My sweet husband took the day off to be with me, and it was lovely.

Morning sex was unfortunately interrupted by our munchkin knocking on our door, but we had awesome, awesome sex last night. I would have written about it but I was busy doing stuff.

I hope everyone is well. I have a few comments I still need to get to. I have read them and appreciate them all a lot, guys.

Perhaps back to a somewhat normal schedule next week.

Sunday, August 5, 2012

Midnight cuddles

I wound up chatting to a friend last night far, far longer than I probably should have, but I was enjoying myself. My peeps and I spent the entire day out acting like tourists in San Francisco (along with everyone else in the world, it seemed), and we were pretty wiped. I finished up talking to my friend, and even though it was already past midnight, I took a quick bath. Once I was fresh, clean, and dry again, I climbed between our sheets, not even bothering with the pretense of clothing.

My husband is so excited about the Curiosity rover landing tonight that he was up all that time reading about it. He came to join me in bed a little after I slipped between the sheets, and he was vocal about his appreciation of my nudity. "Oooh, I have an amazing wife who gets into the bed all naked and lets me touch her everywhere," he murmured as his hands slid along my back and legs. He pulled me to him, spooning me tightly, and his fingers worked magic designs into my flesh, lingering at my nipples, delicately drawing a line of goosebumps down my arm, my side. He stroked my waist with a touch that made me groan loudly and my eyes roll back in my head.

Still, though, it was late and we were exhausted. I snuggled against him as I sighed and moaned, assuming he was just enjoying himself a little before sleep, when I felt his hardness pressing against me. I turned toward him and we kissed. His fingers kept making me moan loudly, tracing patterns of ecstasy into the small of my back as his lips tangled with mine.

"You're mine," he whispered against my lips, as his hand slapped against my ass lightly. I murmured my agreement. His hand slapped me there again, not enough to hurt, just enough to register as pleasurable, and he moved his hand to do the same to my nipples. "My girl, mine," his voice slipped into my ear, making me quake with desire even as my brain fought for slumber.

"How do you have all this energy, my love?" I asked him softly as I struggled to keep my eyes open.

"It's my love for you," he murmured against my lips.

His fingertips slapped lightly against my nipples and I purred. It felt lovely, it felt like I was owned, it felt like love. His light slaps gave way to gentle tugging strokes, and he asked "Would my girl like to suck that cock?" when he felt my hand pressing against his hardness.

I nodded against his chest. "Mmhmm," I whispered, wetting my lips with my tongue.

"Okay, then, I will allow it."

His groans as I swirled my tongue across his cock while slowly sliding my mouth down over it were music to my ears. "Oh, my girl is such a good, good cocksucker," he praised me as his hands stroked my hair. He tugged it sharply once in a while, making me moan around the hard flesh filling my mouth, keeping me alert enough to pleasure him. As tired as we were, I knew we'd be asleep soon, but I wanted to feel his body tense and release into me. I wanted to hear his groans of pleasure before I fell asleep.

I got what I wanted - his leg over my neck tensed and his hips moved faster as I struggled to keep up with the speed he needed. He was coming in my mouth, groaning with the pleasure of it, and I moaned happily as I sucked it down, knowing I had done well and made him feel good.

As I pulled my mouth away afterwards, nuzzling my face against his softened cock and kissing it gently, he said "Whoa. I'm suddenly very, very tired."

"I bet you are, my love," I responded, glancing at the clock. It was 1:30 AM.

He pulled me up into his arms and we slept really, really well.

Friday, August 3, 2012

My favorite math moments - vanilla geekery

Joey asked me if I have a favorite math moment. Truthfully, after spending nearly a decade tutoring math to college students ranging from the most basic remedial stuff to calculus and trigonometry, I have several.

Euler's identity:


Oh. my. God.

When I first discovered this I was astounded. I'll let you read wikipedia's explanation of the mathematical beauty if you want. I was convinced that somehow, locked within this equation, was the secret of the universe.

How. HOW did the irrational base of the natural logarithms, raised to the power of the square root of negative one times the (also irrational) ratio of a circle's circumference to its diameter... equal negative one? HOW? It astounds me even now. I've worked it out, and it comes out right and proper as it should. It's astounding.

I loved introducing this concept to a student who was just being introduced to imaginary numbers, and watching his or her eyes grow wide. Well, when the student was intelligent enough to grasp the awesomeness. They weren't always. Sometimes they'd just go "Huh?"

Why do I need to learn this?

I don't know if this is really a favorite or if it's just one of those things I loved to hate - but if I had a dime for every time a student said this to me, I'd have a sizable sum of money. My favorite answer, after years of it, was from a book I once read titled Everything Bad is Good for You. You don't learn algebra to use algebra any more than you go to the gym to learn how to use a treadmill. You do both because they build a certain kind of muscle - in the case of algebra it's a problem solving muscle. Algebra gives you the tools to solve problems you may not otherwise know how.

Another thing I'd always tell them is that you never know where you're going to wind up. I certainly never thought I'd wind up being a (mostly math) tutor for a third of my life.

Holy crap I've got it!

The lightbulb moment. When any student gets it. You've been working with the person for hours, possibly days, and the light in his or her eyes has dulled. He's resigned himself that he's never going to get it. She will plod through the exercises as you guide her, but she's never going to understand and she will fail her test.

And then, suddenly, the light returns. He's got it. She's got it. He flies through the next page worth of exercises with no difficulty at all. They can't even be called problems anymore, because they don't present any.

Guiding a person to that moment is fantastic. It happened far less than I would have liked - many students had just resigned themselves to achieve low scores and be happy just to pass, but the ones who struggled at first and then suddenly had it? Oh, yeah, that's a high.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Intimacy: The horror

So many people are afraid of connecting with others on anything but the most superficial level.

Society encourages this. Reality TV is full of it - oh, like anyone you please, but don't like them for too long because they'll be right the hell out of here. Don't even get me started on the amazing shows that start up and are then nixed with but half a season's worth of episodes to their name. 

Almost no one is willing to make the emotional investment to really, truly connect, and the entertainment industry just reflects that.

I am a shy, geeky sort of person, but in all the friendships I have, it's been me who's reached out to make the connection, or made the suggestion that we try to build something deeper. My husband and I go to meetups sometimes, where crowds of geeks hang out. We've managed to connect with one (1) geek on a deeper level. One. We've been trying with another, but our schedules won't match up.

We went to a picnic where there were a hundred or more of these folks, and even though we knew quite a few of them on sight, we also knew none of them would miss us if we weren't there. The geeks love to socialize as a bunch, but try to start any deeper connection and you're going to have a hard time.

There's a lingering sort of sadness when you're standing in the midst of a hundred more-or-less like-minded people and you can neither think of anything to say or seem to find anyone to hear it if you did. The opportunity is there but you can't quite grab it. It will haunt you for days afterward, lingering on your soul like an oily residue on plastic.

I am full of love. I love easily, and well, once I've had time to make a true attachment. That's how I work. I attach and I love and I do my best to make sure that my friend is happy. 

Standing there, though, on that bright, sunny day, surrounded by geeks, I felt useless. Unattachable. Unlovable. Unnecessary. Really, I just wanted to go the hell home. Eventually some kind soul took pity on me and we struck up a conversation and my world was right again, because I was having a conversation even if I wasn't connecting. I was communicating, and therein lies a possibility for connection.

When no one is attached, no one can be loved. If no one is loved, then no one can be missed, and so everyone will scuttle home to their lives, their husbands, their children, their lovers and their video games. But if they haven't connected, no one can miss them.

I see people post on facebook: "I'm in town, call me!" and I wonder, does anyone actually call those people? Why don't they just call the friends they'd like to hang out with? I'm pretty sure if I put "I'm in town, call me" on my status, no one would. No one wants to hear that you're already busy. 

I've been standing in a group of my own friends and felt out of the loop. That happens when you can't see them for a year at a time, but beyond that there's this sense of "missing out" on what goes on with them when I'm not with them. In-jokes and all sorts of random stuff that just go over my head and make me want to hide. It's ridiculous, of course, to expect to know everything that goes on in anyone's life - hell, sometimes even my husband doesn't tell me what he had for lunch. That feeling is kind of unshakable for me, that clearly they don't miss me because they're actually enjoying themselves without me. The horror!

Of course I'm not necessary, but I'm preferred. And isn't that better, anyway? For someone to choose to spend time with you because they prefer it, rather than because they can't not? Of course it is. In friendship, in love, in kink, it always is.

It's scary, though, to reach out. Even if you feel like you're being led to reach out, it's scary.

When Kitty and I met, she sort of led me to the place where I would ask if she wanted to meet up. It still took quite some mettle on my part to just come out and say "So, you wanna get together then?" As hard as it was, I am so, so glad that I did.

The idea of hearing "No," which may translate in our heads to "No, you're not worth my time you steaming pile of yuck," is unappealing at best and downright damaging at worst. It's easier, safer, to hope something will just naturally happen. 

What it isn't, though, is better. It's far, far better to have reached out and been struck down, or even ignored, than to never reach out at all. Yeah, being ignored sucks. But the friendships you build with the people who say yes are worth it.

This post was inspired by Lily's need to Water the Bonsai

Not just awesome: The awesomest

The amazing Scot Thomas from The Dom Next Door has included me in his (equally amazing) list of blogs which he figured were worthy of these awards. The first is basically just a compilation of all the awards floating around, but Scot turned this into a combo award. I suppose that makes this an ultra-super-mega-combo award. Hopefully the universe doesn't implode from my blogging of it.

Of course, as awesome as it is to be picked for these, they always come with rules for acceptance, and since I'm kind of lacking the will to write, this felt like a good prompt. I'll play.

So the rules for the Beautiful Blogger award are as follows:

1. Include the award logo somewhere in your blog.
2. Answer 10 questions you have about yourself
3. Nominate 10 to 12 blogs you enjoy. Or you pick the number. (I’ll pick the number)
4. Pay the love forward: Provide your nominee’s link in your post and comment on their blog to let them know they’ve been included and invited to participate.
5. Pay the love back with gratitude and a link to the blogger(s) who nominated you. 

The rules of the combo award, though, apparently are more fluid. I'm going to follow Scot's lead here and say if you accept you must share as part of your acceptance which story on the award-givers blog is your favorite and why. Sounds like fun. If you don't feel like doing such a lot of work, that's okay, don't play.  I obviously still love your writing anyway.

10 questions about myself? I'm going to assume it's just "10 bits of trivia about yourself," and go with it.

1. I love projects. This blog is the latest in a long, long line of projects that let me express myself. When I'm able I love doing electrical work, growing heirloom tomatoes, and repairing old windows.

2. I used to think the Barenaked Ladies were retarded until I actually listened to their (non One Week) stuff, and then they became my favorite band. Then they split (though technically they still exist, what's left is kind of icky to me), and I was sad.

3. I met all my best friends, including my husband, either on the internet or because of the internet. It has enriched my life incredibly and I am very grateful for access to it.

4. My first time was in a hotel room with a boy I'd known and loved for two years but only just met, and "Legend" was playing on the TV.

5. It kind of makes me sad that the TV was on, even though that was probably the most memorable part of the whole thing.

6. My munchkin is addicted to Portal. He's 4. Yeah, I dunno, I want to read with him but he just wants to play Portal.

7.  While sometimes I wish my friends and I lived closer to each other, I wouldn't trade any of them for more geographically convenient ones.

8. I love cooking but the cleanup afterward just doesn't do it for me. Thankfully my husband doesn't seem to mind so much.

9. Jon Pertwee in a dress made every more boring episode we'd watched up until that point totally worth it.

10.  Doctor Who. Doctor Who. Doctor Who?

Okay, I'm pulling out of my own head now, and diving into Scot's. My favorite story on The Dom Next Door is Thanks for Coming, Please Come Again, and it's because of the language. Scot's writing is often brilliantly descriptive, but the orders he delivers in this one just do it for me. I know sex is full of moaning, grunting, and gasping, but it's when lots of words come into play that I really begin to feel the scene, and so, this is mine. It's also awesome for a man of any inclination to make his wife come over and over and over and over - writing about that is even more of a win than doing it.

And now for my nominations! I'd like to just highlight a few awesome blogs that I've only recently come to appreciate, but naturally all the lovely folks on my blog roll are awarded too, if they'd like to play. If I didn't adore them they wouldn't be there.

Lolli Poppin Lane - A fairly new blog written with a very fresh perspective on submissive kink, spankings, and life. I love the energy of her writing. And she loves pussy spanking. What's gonna be wrong with that?

Deviant Wench - Sporadic but hot. Submissive, kinky, feminist. Wait, is that me? No, just another awesome woman blogging from within a fantastic sexual relationship.

Absinthe Passion - I'm so, so sad that it took me so long to get over to Mr. AP's blog. But intially I saw his comments as "absinthepassion" and for some reason I kept reading "abs in the passion," and I could NOT figure out what kind of blog that would be. I'm inundated in stuff over here, so some weird blog about abdominal sex was not going to make the cut to be worthy of my time.

But then one day, after he made a particularly insightful comment somewhere, I realized it was absinthe, not "abs in the." Duh, me. Anyway, he writes well and passionately and you should read his stuff.

Yes. Just three for me, because I haven't been out there finding new blogs perhaps like I should.

I'm actually kind of a shy, introverted sort of geek, you know.

Enjoy, everybody!