Category Archives: Blog
I like naked.
Naked feels good, clothes feel wrong. They confine me. I like to feel a breeze brush over my skin, my body to move unfettered. Apparently there is a label for people like me, it’s Naturist. I do love feeling closer to nature. So I’m ruling out the possibility I might be (like Urban Dictionary suggests) a pretentious Nudist 😉
Following on from my last post you would be forgiven for being confused. There seems to be a conception out there that naturist are exhibitionist. Right or wrong, I couldn’t say. I’ve not been able to be naked in public since I was about 9 on a beach in France, apart from the changing rooms in the sports centre, I’d like to try again.
I don’t have a local ‘Naturist’ spot or spa around here, the nearest one appears to be just over an hour away and I have seen it said that it’s full of ‘clothes’ out for a leer *shudders*. I’d like to find an isolated spot, in a forest somewhere secluded and fling my clothes off, caution and skin to the wind. The thought of someone finding me like that, alone, scares seven bells out of me!
It’s just not to be is it…
So I will continue to wear as little clothing as I can outside my home. Walk through the door, strip off…
Those who have been here before will know I have an inbuilt resistance towards posting pictures of myself. Anywhere. It’s not because I think I’m ugly, misshapen or unattractive. I think it’s just because I’m the opposite of an exhibitionist, whatever that might be. I’m not an inhibitionist, I don’t think I have hang up or are inhibited as such. I’m uncomfortable posting my picture and, yes I like my words to stand for themselves (yay! Venusian reference!) without my physical attributes accredited to my sentiment. It’s about judgement isn’t it? Yes, to a degree.
What would you say to a 90 year old discussing her vagina? Or a 17 year old musing that she has had a fair amount of experience sexually. It’s a bit weird to say the least? Without a picture in your head to attribute my thoughts to, you can choose your own picture to place me in, is this not better? I’m sure any image you find pleasing is far better then the reality.
I greatly resist looking at those glossy covers on novels, turn them over an there’s often a picture of the author. Their picture takes something away from their writing, I’m not sure how but I can see them creating the fiction, their brow furrowed in thought as the images flow. Somehow that lessens my visualisation of their work.
If I want you to read what I’m saying from the standpoint of just reading my words and the images they bring forth in your imagination, does knowing what I look like alter your perception? Or is the desire to picture me heightened by the experience of reading what I write?
This comes down to my inner desire to be seen for the thoughts beyond the flesh, a thinking, sexual woman, no other tags need apply. Age, skin colour, the look in my eye, the twist of my mouth, it’s immaterial to what I’m trying to convey. I think I feel the need to be a sentient being, seen through my words rather than posting pictures of my intimate parts is due to not wanting to distract from who I am. In this place, I’m not trappede by my body, my mind soars. It’s a personal thing.
I know other bloggers with an exhibitionist streak post words and pictures to incredible effect, stirring readers beyond anything I could ever achieve. I’m even a little jealous of the gratification they reap from this. It must feel incredible. Like with so many things though, I have to admit to myself, this is not for me. I’ve pushed my boundaries on this in the past, here on this blog and I can’t say I’m happy, even with these tame images being present.
I did scan through tumblr thinking about putting a picture on this post as I so often do… It seemed wrong given the subject matter.
I’m in a strange space. My head is empty, my heart is heavy. I feel like a vast mass of nothingness stretching out to eternity. I am a created masterpiece and yet a blank canvas.
It seems ironic that my friends have on occasions expressed an opinion that I am wise. I apparently offer wisdom and encourage thought. One wishes this would bring comfort to ones self. It doesn’t, it’s just a tease at my inability to know what I should do to feel better, to feel complete. I’ve been trying to think what I would say to someone else feeling similar; The conclusion was I would tell them to Write; to discover, to explore, to express. I write, it’s what I do beyond being a Wife, Mother, Sister, Daughter. When people ask me what I ‘do’ I have to bite back the response ‘I’m a writer’ and answer ‘I’m a mother’. Perhaps it’s this denial that makes me feel a lack of foundation, sadly it’s this world that makes it so, because of what I choose to write.
So amongst reasons in deciding to start writing here again is the need for self-expression. I am a sexual woman, I think about sex more than the average man, although perhaps not the physical mechanics, more the emotional/mental semantics of it all. When I started writing here it was a release, I enjoyed the bright colour and thrill it brought to my life. I miss that. I no longer have the shroud of anonimity but those that now know who I am can be trusted. I am grasping to the hope that this will allow me free reign with my train of thought. I don’t know, I’m a very private person.
A lot of this blog is humorous, I have really enjoyed re reading it, is it wrong to laugh at the way I see the world? Perhaps. I like to laugh, it can make or break a day. But I’m in a different place now than last May, a different place from February too… I don’t know how this is going to go.
So, my plans for this tiny corner of the interwebs? I need a space to vent and muse, shout, cry, get horny, lustful, naughty and sometimes just write. Stay, read, enjoy or not… If not, move on.
I encourage others to express themselves too but people often feel trepidicious about writing a blog or admitting to feeling sexual needs, so I’m offering a page to anyone who wants to muse on moonbeams, scribble fiction or vent, paint pictures, take photos… They can find a home here. (at my discretion).
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To start at the begining of my journey on this blog, click here.
So here we are, D day… The end of a little era.
I know many many people get all attention seeking with social media and the “hey! look at me, I’m going to delete my account and I would like you to now plead with me to stay!!” I’ve seen it too many times and it’s boring… You want to go, go… you want to stay, stay… Sort it. So yeah, I’m not that type. All I know is I don’t want to stay, not as EroticMoonbeam anyway, it’s been a laugh I can’t deny it but circumstances recently have made me realise that in all seriousness I can’t do it any more. I may be smutty, rude and open but I’m not a sex blogger, I don’t want to be reading the details of peoples sex life on my time line, I don’t want to share the intimate details of my sex life with strangers or be made to feel like I should, I’ve had enough of people telling me what I should enjoy when I know myself well enough to say it’s not for me.
I just want to write my smut (or even non smutty stuff!) and this feeling has been with me a while and it ain’t changing, it’s just *does arty farty arm wavey moment* clouding my creativity man!
Anyone who knows me will also know I’m a twitter addict, I’ve not gone, just evolved, twitter is a tool not a controller, it is for me to enjoy not want to avoid.
I’ve met some bloody lovely people through this blog and it’s twitter, coerced some of my vanilla side friends to take a foray into the naughty side, tumblr’ed myself silly and attended the wedding of two of the loveliest twitter people in the world – good times 🙂 Yet this move feels right and natural and I need to do it today…
So it’s so long and thanks for all the
fish twitter/bloggy love…
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To start at the begining of my journey on this blog, click here.
Some one called me inspirational…. I’m still speechless… *cough* yes, not likely I know… Usually I find my little ranty blog posts are inspired by others, something someone says will niggle away at my busy brain until it forms itself into something verging on coherent and requesting to be written. This happened again this week. I was immensely enjoying having a lovely telephone conversation with a fellow blogger, setting the world to rights etc, when something she said hit a large red and yellow bullseye in my brain. “I’m open, not easy.”
I ramble on about sex and it’s different aspects, I will express my opinion very clearly on sexual matters with practically anyone who wants to hear them via the internet, obviously I keep a tighter lid on what I think with people in my every day life, mostly people are not open, not able to admit to having a sexual nature so it’s best to keep quite, but on line, especially twitter, like finds like and openness is usually taken with the transparency and honesty with which it’s meant. Sometimes people read my openness as something else and this does annoy me (although I understand why they might be misguided).
I’m open, not easy… I have desires, I like sex, I thrive on physical contact. Do I want to fuck you? No, I can safely say that unless I’ve actually told you to the contrary, I don’t. I’m happily married and regularly ‘serviced’ thanks all the same, I don’t need any help on that score. Just because I like to talk about sex doesn’t mean I’m swinging or having multi partners. So yeah, perhaps I muse about this fantasy or that but when you have something good going, why wreck it…
The blogesphere is full of bloggers who do tell you the intimate details of their sex lives and it makes very interesting reading, I know, I read a few of them and perhaps I’m living vicariously through their exploits. That’s my choice isn’t it? The same needs to apply to what I blog about and it occurs to me that I may have lost my way a little here. Everyone seems to be doing the “Last night I…” and I read these posts and wonder if that is what I should be doing to… only I know I can’t, it’s not me… That is what has spurned on all the jokes about not being a sex blogger. You want that, you are in the wrong place, I need to do what I do which is mainly trying to make sense of this very strange and uptight little world we live in.
I’ve been a little bit cheesed off recently by a few commentors who appear to be implying that my life is less that it should be, their way is better, perhaps it is, but I am the navigator of my own life and I choose to live it the way I am. Whislt offers of a sexual nature might be appealing and flattering, as I’ve said from the beginning of this blog, it’s not an invitation I’m prepared to take. You may get the impression I’m headstrong, the answer to that is only when I need to be and I will continue to live life as I see fit, being open, not easy.
There has been a lot of spring cleaning going on here, I’ve been busy in the house being domesticated and I have a few projects in the burner that need my attention, that and the feeling like I’m being criticized for my own opinions and how I like to live my life on my own blog led me to wondering if I’ve had enough of this persona… I almost hit the delete button again this week, those of you following me on twitter may have seen my rant. Yes, I know, I keep going through this but usually it’s due to protecting the people I love, this time it was out of sheer exhaustion.
I know what you are going to say Haters gonna hate, just ignore them… and so I shall, for a while at least. I gave myself a few days off, knowing this blog was shut down and there was no need to check it gave me a breathing space for a couple of days. Thank you to those of you who noticed and requested access, I appreciate that…
I have a couple of posts coming up this month that I have promised to write and so I shall.
After that? Lets take one day at a time…
I know… I’m not supposed to be here but as a Life blogger who thinks too much about sex my mind just won’t let me rest sometimes until I vent a little (still waiting for someone to call me out on the ‘not a sex blogger’ thing 😉 ) so I’m venting… It’s probably because today I’m without my usual joyful method of procrastination and the fact that I’ve been reading too much about it recently but I can help letting my mind wander over the subject of cock… Shame ain’t it.
A man’s penis is the appendage that often, his whole world will revolve around, physically and mentally. Often without them realising the extent of it’s influence. I love cock… you may have noticed. Nothing is more sexy than a man in a sharp suit with a throbbing hard on, looking at me as if I’m the most beautiful woman on earth, his eyes begging me to undress him and be undressed. Makes me clench just thinking about it and that’s before any physical contact has occurred. I’m a Man-Fan, rough cold hands, eye twinkling filthiness, wonderful strong arms… In fact, I have been called the only straight female ‘sex blogger’ because of my appreciation of maleness… (Not that given the opportunity of some guilt free, no ties pussy eating, I wouldn’t have a go because I probably would, I’m just not bi-curious enough to go seek it out, instigate it or except an invitation.) …so when I was asked to write a review about a book on blow jobs I giggled and agreed. It seems every sex blogger all over the world has been asked to review this book so most of you will know which it is, I’m still waiting to hear back from the author on a point in issue, so I’ll just point out this is not the review… but it has made me think more about manliness, cock, blow-jobs, why I enjoy giving them and I can sum up for you exactly what gets my blood pumping, why I enjoy lavishing attention on his cock so much in one word.
You want to put your cock where? In my mouth? With all my teeth? Of course I won’t use them on you darling unless you would like me too! But I could… couldn’t I… and you want my hands too, stroking your shaft and massaging your balls? How about I suck your balls gently too? All three? My pleasure…. And that is where the power comes from, I won’t, but I could and that is my choice, not yours…
Excuse me for getting a kick out of that but perhaps it’s a kink of mine, I love to suck cock, relishing loving attention and devotion on your member and I will enjoy it endlessly, the texture, the shape, the taste, Mmmm… yes I bloody will… but it’s on my terms, I get to be in Control and that’s the rule.
Is that so wrong of me?
Control is a major issue for me, I am a control freak , my personal boundaries are pretty wide but I don’t like to be pushed, nudged gently perhaps and I may push them myself; but again, that’s my choice. Too many times in my life I have not been in control of the direction I’ve been travelling, I’ve been trodden on and treated badly, not in control of my own destiny and unlike some people who seem content to let life push them about, I’m a feisty wench and I will fight back. Being treated with respect, communication and having a choice are all such huge issues with me they affect my every waking moment. In my relationships and my friendships I expect a bond of trust, a knowledge of boundaries and mutual understanding and I often look for this in other peoples relationships too, I like to see a balance. So often that is exactly what I fail to see and that saddens me.
However, this control and trust are never more apparent then during a blow job… no matter how rough it might get, how deep he sinks his cock down my throat, he trusts me with his most precious, beautiful penis and I trust him not to fuck my face mindlessly like a gagging ragdoll fuck toy…
Because that is not something I can be.
Well hey there! Happy New Year and welcome (back). Good to see you x
As usual, there is a lot of chat around this New Year about resolutions, I don’t usually indulge, however I have this year on a rather large scale and some of these resolutions are going to have a knock on effect on my Internet usage. Basically, I’m not going to be here or on Twitter so much.
You may not notice, I’ve never been a prolific blogger but I thought a heads up was due anyway.
Thanks for reading.