On Becoming a Woman

Over the last few months, slowly but surely, step by step, I have taken great pains to better myself. I have taken responsibility of my life and, although there are little slip-ups, on the whole things seem to be coming together. I'm still not quite there yet (the job situation is still iffy) but I've endured to dress for the job I really want: a cozy, well-payed part-time receptionist job that fits neatly into my school schedule. You see, now that I've pretty much gotten the internal workings of a confident individual the next step on this path is to fulfill a dream of mine:

To become a lady. 

I have sincerely admired those women who wake up at 5:30 in the morning to pamper themselves. To pluck and shave and blow-dry and style until all is in place. Who make their appearance seem effortless, and a personality that shines to reflect it. I'm not saying that description is going to be me, I know my own limitations and, frankly, I have different goals. But their essence? The beauty that shines from within and is enhanced by how they care for themselves, how they are kind to others? Yeah, that's what I'm after. 

And wheeew, it's hard y'all. 

I am a yoga pants, athletic shoes, race shirt, shop at goodwill, off the rack, hair out of my face kind of gal most of the time. But what I'm after, a reflection of respect is in order. That means well-fitting clothing, kitten heels, skirts, smooth legs, styled hair, etc. It means eating better, getting my hair done at a salon, plucking my eyebrows more frequently, going to bed at a reasonable time... It means being a reflection of my best self. 

The prepping. Oof.

I know it's not really going to be that hard in a few weeks, or months, or whenever it becomes second nature. Right now is a growing period, and I have to just get used to neatness and order and discipline. Because, baby, I have big plans for my life and this is just one element.

Hope

I've been feeling the full spectrum of feelings that I think a single submissive can feel over the last few weeks. From subtle emotions to loud and extravagant "OH MY GOD MUST WANT," you name it, I've experienced it.

Thankfully I have ways to channel them effectively, but that still doesn't mean I don't find some of them... disconcerting. To me and my lingering fears of abandonment, the more tender feelings of, "oh yeah, that's what I want in my life" put me on edge of breathe SG, BREATHE and run, go, ignore, run away! I've gotten pretty good at letting that last one go, for the most part.

This has stemmed from an online correspondence between one Gentleman in particular. Whether He is aware of it or not (which I suspect He is), He has made an impact on my life. He has given me hope through flirty friendship that there's going to be someone out there in tune to me and my idiosyncrasies and me to his.

Because of His distance from me, I can explore safely my insecurities, I can be gently coaxed and accepted through all my wackiness and "weaknesses". And I can be cool with Him. I can be myself. Conversations are easy, they are fluid and fun and silly and it is what it is, and I am immensely grateful for even this gift of hope that I've been given in our interactions. I am grateful to renew my faith, and I am grateful for whatever comes next too.

Sucker Punch

This is a very raw entry I am going to write. I write it with the sole intention of getting it out, voicing my exposed feelings so that I may move forward, bringing about the best outcome for all.

Over the past two months I really felt like I've been taking these big piles of SHIT (self-growth springboards!) in stride. I haven't freaked out (or if I have they've been short lived), I've been good. Really good. Amazing and wonderful and this past week it felt like everything was going to come together with my head held high, a better person: confident, self-assured, witty, fun, beautiful -- balanced.

I was basically LIVING that.

Tonight I got one big sucker punch to the gut that I didn't see coming. I mean, I get the why of it. I can see the bigger picture but God DAMNIT I'm tired. I'm tired of being that girl. That cliched mid-20s girl who doesn't have her shit together with no money. I'm tired of of the chaos I've built and I thought I was making it better. I thought... I KNOW I am. I know I am. I have to believe I am or else I risk falling really far back down.

In my deepest heart I look at my troubles and think, "this is not my life. This is not how it's supposed to be." That spurs me on, I guess. Because I know my potential, I know how amazing I can be... how much more amazing I can be. How if I can get my shit together, then I'll be able to help others that much more, I'll have more to give. I'll....

I know now and days everyone is like, "being weird is cool! Being weird makes you unique!" Well, I'm here to say I've got enough unique to last me a lifetime. I just want to be normal. I want to lead a normal, peaceful life. I WANT MY LIFE TO BE RIGHT. 

Yeah, I think I got most of it out.

........

Tune in next week when SG talks fall and obsession with pumpkin spice lattes!

I am Needing of The Sex

Ever since I read Renee Rose's figging post last week, almost immediately followed up by Safe in His Arms (also by Rose, review to come) it would seem the floodgates of horny have opened. Normally, when I'm on lockdown/ single, as the longevity of my singledom stretches I only ever get randy enough to masturbate once a month (usually when I'm ovulating). Also, this horniness only lasts 1-3 days and abruptly stops. It is as if my logical mind says, "body function, I will allow this time, but seeing as there are no prospects available we will conserve the sexy!"

Anyhow, you might have noticed some changes happening in my writing. If not, that's OK too, I mean, I don't tell you guys everything.

BUT I DIGRESS.

It's been almost a week, and I am still abundantly aware of my state of want. Of wanting ropes and spankings and double penetration; of salivating at the thought of a hand around my throat, a command in my ear; of the flutter in my heart when I think of being fondled in public, an outwardly innocent swat of the behind, with so much more meaning beneath the surface.

And here's the kicker: I'm not LONELY.

It's an extremely strange and wondrous feeling to experience something reminiscent of the past yet oh so so different. I'm not jealous, I'm not unhappy, I'm just plain as horny as a 14 year old boy. Who just happens to be a 26 year old woman who really really really wants to get spanked and slapped and oh so deliciously possessed. And perfectly OK with the fact that she's not right now.

Does that make me weird?

100%

Life is a funny thing. Life can BE fun, or life can be hard. Most, I think, would say life is a mixture of both. Events can be dramatic catalysts, either plunging someone deep into the bottom murk or fling them high -- arching into the great beyond.

There's a reason I haven't really been writing submissive posts. One, I'm single and have a limited pool of experience. Two, the experience I do have, while fun, a great introduction, and exciting at the time, now appears paltry and lame; childlike, if you will. Three, I am almost unrecognizable emotionally from who I was even a few months ago.

Four? (this is the big one) I am 100% selfish, committed 100% to myself and my responsibilities. I still might be on temporary disability, but I am working my ass off. I became a big-girl landlord and had to evict my last tenant and deal with the blowback of emotional friends of the tenant, and almost an entire household worth of items abandoned in my condo with no possibility of reclaiming from tenant or parents (who bought 95% of what was left). Add to that my commitment to self-improvement, balance, and health... I'm one busy girl. And frankly, I'm not done yet. I'm not done finding who I am, I'm still learning to know with certainty that I am living a life in line with my values, my truths.

So yeah, I have NO CLUE what type of submissive I would be towards someone right now. I can't even think it. Because I have no fucking clue the whole picture of who I am right now. I know a humans we are never really done finding ourselves or enjoying new passions or finding what works for us. But I feel compelled to find at least a base point.

I feel like to be the girlfriend or wife I want to be (caring, strong, daring, compassionate, intuitive of my Master's needs, etc) I have to know my own basic limitations, feeling strong and bold enough to not take certain types of shit (read: drama). Also, I feel like I should be able to do certain physical things, of which are pretty shitily limiting (but getting there!).

The good news? Oh the good news is I feel alive, I feel brave and free and safe and I know I'm pretty fucking sexy for it. I notice men looking at me again. I am aware of my body in a new way, I am aware of my accessibility, my ease of conversation, of flirtation, even. So God bless the man who can claim my hot piece of flesh and mind.

Oh yes, when the time comes I will be ready. And I it will be amazing.

TMI Tuesday: September 3, 2013

This TMI Tuesday is all about sex and cars. Which is good, because being a sex blog... these answers (or at least one of them) actually has to do with a sexy story.

1. What type of vehicle do you use regularly? Truck, car, bike, etc.
   A little (yet incredibly spacious) Toyota Matrix, which I love but I really need to take better care of. 



2. Do you use public transportation–bus, train, metro/subway, cab? How often?
I live in Southern California and while they are beefing up the metro system, it's probably not happening as quickly as it should so more people can use it (I have seen the plans.. they are grand and must be done right). Although Pasadena and LA proper are the exceptions -- Pasadena especially. Since I do not live in either of those cities, I drive everywhere. Another fun fact: my one and only bus ride ended up with me being stranded and having to be picked up by my future first boyfriend (that was our unofficial first date). Mainly because it was one of those "push you into the pool even though the kid can't swim" lesson from my Chicago born step-mother. Funny enough I rock the NY subway system though. 



3. Have you ever had sex in/on public transportation? Tell us about it?
Good lordy no. But I do have a penchant for stroking the men I've dated in public. And then giving road head to finish them off. 



4. I know most of you have had sex in a car or truck but how many times have you had sex in your present vehicle?
Way to suck the fun out of the question. My car is what would could be lovingly be referred to as "my personal hobbit hole" where another, more tidy person would call messy and cluttered. Both may be accurate at any given point. Anyway, this usually prevents any canoodling to occur in my car.


5. When was the last time you had sex in car or truck type vehicle? Was it with a known person or a stranger?
The last time I remember having sex in a car was just after high school with a boyfriend turned friends with benefits. He had a Volvo and went all gentlemanly and laid a blanket down in the hatchback area. To say it was boring would be an understatement.  


6. Have you ever had sex on a bicycle or motorcycle?
I'm not quite sure how one would go about that comfortably. 


7. Stick shift or manual? Why?
I'm a little confused by this question. Is this like the "coke or pop" debate? AREN'T THEY THE SAME THING WITH DIFFERENT PHRASING?!?!?!  Do they mean stick-shift or automatic? Ask me when you get your shit together, question. 


8. Ever had sex on the hood of a car?
No, but I can't imagine it being comfortable?

Bonus: 
You are walking down the street. A very sexy and nude person (gender of your choice) pulls up next to you in their shiny new Mercedes Benz, they lower the window and say, “Do you want to ride in my Mercedes?” What do you do? Tell us what you want to do on that ride?
First of all, let's go with a sexier car... like Audi. That shit can GO. Now, if this really happened to me I would run away AS FAST AS I COULD. That's crazy-person behavior right there. But hypathetically, if I threw caution to the wind, I would probably go nude, get to know said person in water. Then a few days later after some crazy fun-times adventures (innocent and thrilling). After which point there would more than likely be road head (I have an oral fixation and a thing for slight danger, what can i say?) and out of the car sexy sexy good times. I know, I'm weird. Even hypothetically. 



BONUS, Bonus: 
What is the sexiest thing you have ever done in a vehicle?
When I was 17, almost 18, I had my first sexual partner. He was not my boyfriend and despite his douche-baggery is still considered my top sexy times. Every time was dirty and raw, primal and rough. You could say I was loosely taken in hand by him. Anyway, one time after work he told me to meet him in the parking lot of a local bookstore. I got into his passenger seat but he was already in the back, calmly waiting for me. Earlier in the day he had noticed I was wearing a skirt and had told me to take off my panties, so I was pretty much sopping wet by the time I met him in his car. Slowly, carefully and as sultry as I could I stepped through the partition in the seats and slid onto his lap. He had loosened his top button and I could feel him hard against the coarse fabric of his jeans. The zipper bit into my sensitive flesh, but I didn't wince. He just stared up at me for a moment, hands gripping my thighs. He whispered something I can't remember and suddenly pulled my hair, exposing my neck. He bit hard, licking angrily, moving his mouth lower, unbuttoning my shirt to reveal my breasts. He pinched and grabbed forcefully my left breast, working my right with his mouth but the pain did not register. I began to grind against his jeans, my juices seeping into them. "Unzip them." I heard his command before he bit my ear. I melted into the sensation, barely registering my hands before I slipped him inside of me. We both sighed. Sweat began to trickle down my face as I moved with a grace I did not know I possessed. The windows quickly fogged, but just before they did I saw lights upon us, and a growl of "Pass us, do not pay any attention" as if he could command the world. I slowed, panic of being caught rising, but he quickly dug his nails into my thighs saying "keep going, don't stop." He guided my hips to his, continuing the rhythm I had started and the car moved passed. Grunts, moans, and slaps of flesh melded together as time slipped from us and the passion grew. Soon, almost too soon, I grabbed his shoulders and dug my nails in. I didn't shout or scream, I just buried my face into his neck and sighed with release. He too, was nearly finished and he bit my nipple to focus me. I may or may not have shrieked slightly, but it did the trick and I continued to glide him smoothly in and out of me. It was exquisite. I know I smiled. First I heard him mutter something inaudible. Then, as hungrily as a starved animal he forced my body to him, pressing his palms to my ass to hold me there and I felt him shudder inside of me. 


If you would like to join in to TMI Tuesday, just go to the TMI Tuesday blog and see who else participated, or participate yourself!