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.
*Yawns dramatically* I never really thought I’d get away with not doing it…
In years gone by, again as my guise as a Mummy Blogger, I have done 3 posts on “7 things about me” and it was a strain everytime. I was not looking forward to this bit much, then I realised that none of my readers here have seen those! So I *might have stolen 7 things mercilessly from the other posts, 7 really dull me things to tell you.
*unlikely, you decide if I would tell the vanilla world this stuff…
One! Red wine makes me horny, especially Shiraz but it’s a fine line between horny and comatose…
Two! I met Mr.Beam at a drop zone, I was packing a parachute at the time and if anyone tells you I was bought for a shower and a jump ticket, don’t believe them… it was 2 jump tickets 😉 He say’s I’ve never been cheap. (tw, ‘jump’ tickets were about the airplane not the bunkroom)
Three! I got high in America… I visited the highest incorporated city in the US, Leadville to go Dog sledding, it was an amazing experience, as was the whole trip *dreams of snow, skis sliding through powder, the soft swish as you move, chilled air against your face* *cries*
Four! Every winter I hunt endlessly for inexpensive knee high leather boots and every year I fail to find any that will zip over my calves or accommodate my strangely shaped feet.
Five! When it comes to my feet, don’t go there, no really, I’m not kidding. Touching my feet accidentally may result in a bloody nose for you, touch them on purpose and a sensitive part of you is going to hurt for a very long time….
Six! Really struggling to find anything to write here now so I have asked my dear pal Bluelagoon, she tells me I am one of the Stillest people she has ever known. I read that as silliest which of course confused me as I’m sure she knows far sillier people than me! Though I will admit to being bloody daft at times! But no, apparently I can be still and observe people “it goes beyond people watching.” Funny the things people think about you isn’t it… I thought everyone observed how people are, how they stand and talk, move and interact… Doesn’t everyone imagine the lives of those around them, who are they with, are they lovers, what they might be like in bed… Or just wonder at the colour of their lounge, how much washing up is piled in the kitchen, if they put the lid on the toothpaste or replace the loo roll, are they messy, creative, humourous or if they are anally tidy… No? Just me then…
Seven! I don’t own a trug….
As a ‘sex’ blogger I consider myself pretty much a nonstarter, I’ve always thought that perhaps what I am is actually a lifestyle blogger who spends far too much time thinking about and having sex… The idea makes me smile so I guess that is what I am.
This last couple of months have been tough, it’s autumn and with that come the endless sniffles and nasty bugs and as a mother of small children I’ve had one after the other. Mr.Beam says I need time to recover, he did carefully point out that whilst he believes I need time to recover he’s not giving me an opening to take it, typically life goes on..
The most obvious effect this has all had on me is the total devastation of my libido.
I’m not in the high sex drive category of folk, I’m usually happy if I get a good seeing to a couple of times a week with a few decent wanks in between, yeah okay so some days I’m feral and pretty much insatiable, I’m sure most folks have those days… Not so this month..
November has been a wasteland of nonwanking, I have no urge, no desire, no je ne said quoi. I feel bland and uninteresting, usually I’d admit the only thing sexy about me is my state of mind, oh and good tits, apparently the arse is darn fine too but I can’t see that. Nope, I’ve lost my va va voom and it’s pissing me off…
Today is day four of my TOTM and by now I’m usually ripping up the sheets to be fucked, yet here I lay at 5.30am feelin,, well to be honest, fuck all…. I’m testing myself too, usually the mere thought of my glass vibe being in the freezer compartment will get me all hot and wet, the idea of sliding it’s chilled shaft inside me usually produces shivers and not from the cold. Perhaps it’s because my beloved glass vibe is broken too *sobs* and I have not found a suitable replacement, perhaps… but to be honest I have not been looking very hard, why bother?
I guess what I need is a plan, you know something excruciating and tiresome like healthy eating, spinach, broccoli and chicken soup, perhaps some gentle exercise involving being vertical as oppose to horizontal. Or many many many cuddles… Maybe I should wank anyway…. It always strikes me the more I get the more I want so perhaps a kick start is required!
In perspective though, I have to admit I can live with this… I am generally in good health as are my family, we have a lot to be thankful for and a few sniffles do seem rather like #firstworldproblems as twitter would say. The horn will return, it always does and with it I hope will come my desire to write, for yes, sadly it would seem that has gone too, this blog is starting to look like a barren wasteland and my sanity and need for escape is being tortured by my dullness.
Forgive me dear reader, it has been bloody ages since I have felt the need to pound this keyboard with my thoughts of smut and naughtyness. I appear to be having a dry spell. The last 2 ‘pages’ of smut for the wank wednesday prompt were not really smutty but more romantic and if you are one of my (really rather wonderful) subscribers (I appreciate you all mwah!) you will not have got an email notification about those pieces (they are under stories in the right hand column).
So yeah, where was I? Writer block or something. I’m rather hoping it’s not the or something but I fear it is. I’m standing at the edge of the sexual abyss looking down into nothingness and getting no clear picture of if I should jump or teeter on the cliff edge.
In English I don’t know where to go next.
I’m having a fabulous time with the DP and Anal and Spanking and generally having some great fun sex but I’m not sure it’s enough. Liar, I know it’s not bloody enough or I wouldn’t be musing about it all. I’m finding it’s a lot easier to orgasm, longer more satisfying and even more frequent which is a blessing. I crave release like a woman stranded in the dessert thirsty for water; I’m not keen on denying myself the pleasure but I find myself asking all to frequently, is that it? What next… no matter how much I search through porn, tumblr, other blogs etc I’m not finding that certain something that makes me go “Fuck Yes!” I’m missing the bubbling excitement of a desire for fresh territory, a niche or kink that I can make mine and it’s rather frustrating!
I want more….
….there has to be more….
….but I don’t know what ‘more’ is.
Goodness Gracious Me *fansself*… Did you see the story Writes For Her posted today? I’m quaking! It’s raw sex… I want to be that woman!! Please Mr.WFH #want…
Now, I don’t do pain.
How many time have you seen me write that, I could go through this site and count them, I’ll admit to being anal but not in that way! Feel free to trawl though and count yourselves should you wish. The fact remains that I don’t do pain. Not real pain. So you could be forgiven for being confused by my sexual obsession.
Spanking; it’s an art form to perform to perfection.
I know why I want it…it’s the loss of control, the slight submissiveness, the resonance of the spank on your ass, the resistance of will, a play fight. The sound of a hand against your flesh, the apprehension, waiting for the hand to fall. The blessed intrusion of the fingers into your pussy, the sound of wetness, knowing that this is really what you want, actually it’s more than just a want, it’s a need…
*sigh* I have no idea why I need this so much…
…. oh yeah apart from being a finger fucking addict!
I’m not into any other area of BDSM, like I said the pain thing… also the tying up thing I struggle with. I implicitly trust my partner but the last time he tied me up to the bed post and did wonderful things to me he kept asking permission; kind of takes the edge off it a bit. I did threaten him with repercussions (like burying his face in the pillow and sucking his balls whilst fingering his ass… not much of an incentive to get it right is it 😉 ) I don’t think he gets it either, he’s a gentle soul who hates to hurt me and no matter how often I tell him “It really doesn’t hurt!” my yelps of surprise seem to suggest otherwise.
I recently er stumbled, yes, that is it, stumbled, on the most fabulous tumblr, I do stumble upon marvelous tumblrs fairly often (reminds self to do a post on my most beloved tumblr blogs) only this time rather than the usual reblogging affair it’s a personal journal of a couple and their love of spanking. I was so thrilled reading their blog, my brain was popping with the way they express their love of a good spank, what it means to them. Being tumblr it’s interactive too so there are a lot of questioned asked and clearly answered. If you like spanking or just want to get to grips with the basics you need to go back through Little Miss Spankypants blog and read from the beginning. I did drop them a line and ask if I could show one of their clips here, I guess they are ‘busy’ lucky so and so’s… You can find them on Tumblr anyway and I urge you to do so.
Back to my dear friend Writes For Her. I know we have discussed your Her many many times, She may not always appreciate what she has in you, but I can tell you this. She’s a bloody lucky woman to have caught your attention even if you can’t have each other. I’m going to be coming back to this story over and over and over again….
So here we are, September *Does back flip* I’m having an odd poignant moment with the things occuring in my life that I have little control over or wonder if I’m on the right track with. One of these being this tiny little insignificant corner of the internet called EroticMoonbeam…
I started this little project in May, May 6th to be exact so I’m approaching just 4 months of wittering on endlessly about sex and stuff, I haven’t written any erotica all summer and I have missed it but with everything going on here there has been no silence to muse. I have been pondering the future of this blog though.
People are reading it… fuck knows why… but they are, I guess sex sells. Not that you get much actual sex to be honest, usually just me and my banal outpourings of a slightly crude nature… I’m not really much of a sex blogger… I hate pictures of me so you are never going to get much of that and frankly I don’t care if this venusian does look like Venus in your eyes, it’s my blog and I don’t want to look at it. So, wanton pictures which are so wonderful for the old stats are a no no… I’m (sadly) not promiscuous, so tales of adventure and illicit meetings with handsome tall men in secluded parts of the local forest, rampantly fucking on picnic blankets are far and few between… sucks eh! and I’m reasonably confident in my sexual nature, with a few experiments thrown in so as not to freak Mr. Beam out too much, there is not much here in a voyage of discovery….
So, why continue blogging? Just to rant? Just to muse?
I have considered going self hosting and if I do that what should I make my space be? Would it not be sensible to just stick to the erotic writing like so many brilliant writers and leave the sex blogging to the younger “New discoveries” types or the “Sexually explicit live vicariously through their writing.” types?
I’m honestly struggling to see where I fit in to this melee. “Reasonably happily married writer with a hunk of a husband who she should be very grateful for, interested in pushing her sexual boundaries but straight, with no pain involved and no, he doesn’t want to go swinging.” I mean… I’m yawning…
So what is the point?
After somebody recently almost implied that older erotic writers must be sex starved bored housewives getting off on their imagination I have found a reluctance in me to continue… It irks me that this is how people might see me. I have thought of changing the name of the blog to “Yes, I might be a MILF and I’d probably love it if you did but I’m getting my fairly high sexual urges satisfied at home – just.” But it wouldn’t fit across the screen. So I have considered changing the voice here. Posting fiction only, because reality is a tad boring, sex is just messy and housewives don’t want sex… Right?
I don’t know…
*Continues to ponder*
I think I might miss taking the piss out of myself…
You know those time where you think you are missing out and you really don’t want to but you feel you have just missed the boat and even if you caught it, the ride might not be to your liking anyway? That…
I expect you are all groaning and mumbling “What the fuck…” as usual.
Basically it’s this. I’m really open minded, as long as it doesn’t involve Children, Animals and it’s consensual you can get up to what you like and within the vast constraints in my personal life, so can I.
Only I can’t…
I’m not – no matter how much I think I would like to be – Sexually attracted to other women, in any way and I find this a little disappointing to say the least. Over the years I must have met and enjoyed the company of hundreds of people and silently in my head somewhere, quite often at subconscious level I have that annoyingly human propensity to file them in little boxes, like “not hot” “agreeable” “fairly hot” “Fuck, I’d do you” and that rare beast “Take me now!!!” I’ve never met a woman who gets further then an appreciative reflective “fairly hot”.
I’ve even discussed this with a friend of mine who just happens to be a lesbian, she said “You are just going to have to face the fact, as sad as it is, that you are straight and get over it!” She said this with a wry smile on her face too. She was amused by the idiocy of a straight woman, who actually would quite like to experience another woman but can’t find one she even remotely fancies because basically they are women and she doesn’t fancy them. I know, it’s daft.
Lets face it a female fuck-buddy would be awesome. Would there be anything more wonderful then sex with another woman? I mean all that soft skin, a delectable pussy to explore, nipple and breasts to squeeze. Other great win points are neither of us would get pregnant, there would be no arguments about the toilet seat being left up and if I had a problem she could help me discuss it rather than offering a solution without really listening! But, No matter how I think of it I can’t see it becoming a possibility.
Honestly, I’m getting wet just writing the last paragraph. I wonder if this perhaps means that somewhere, out in the world somewhere is a woman who could make me feel that spark of desire, to take the leap forward and revel in the delights of her glorious body and allow her to enjoy mine. It would take that spark too, the “Fuck, I’d do you” category because without it I don’t do anyone, a lesson I learnt in my ever so slightly promiscuous 20’s after a few ‘mistakes’, it doesn’t matter how horny you are you have to live with your choices of partner, so I’d always tried to pick men I could remember with a clench and a smile.
A gentleman friend said to me this week on this very subject “You know, there is nothing wrong with you, there is nothing wrong with being straight.” and I do know that, although the internet and erotica seems to be full of Bi-Curious women trying to find some one to slake the curiosity, I’m aware that I’m actually very confident in my sexuality, I guess that is why I feel that I might have missed the boat, because I don’t feel the need to actively explore this sexual element. I just continue on my journey in “Cockdom” enjoying the delights of the male body and mind, any wondering if there might be a woman out there who could ignite my lust is so deep in my mind that unless someone else says something it never occurs to me. Part of me hopes it’s not impossible though, part of me how ever dormant, still looks at women to see if they make the “Fuck, I’d do you” category, she would have to be very special, one could argue that such a woman might not exist and in all probability if she did, she wouldn’t fancy me anyway…
Such is life.
It’s too hot for me.
I love snow.
I like to be able to cool down and I’d rather throw on a jumper in winter then not be able to shed the heat of the summer. Winter does not stop me preferring to be naked, I’d be better off living in the Alps to be honest.
So when it’s hot and sticky my family has alternative methods of chilling.
Lovely deep water at the bottom of the garden, cool!
You are intoxicating.
I can’t get enough of you.
My hands wandering over your silken skin, roaming, kneading, grasping, pulling at your flesh. My lips on yours, kissing you wildly, without restraint. Having you in my arms, wrapped around you, feeling the rising passion trapped within you, aching for escape.
Snatching seclusion in an isolated spot, laying you down, exploring your body with my hands roaming under your skirt, cupping your arse in my hands as we kiss each other frantically. Your hands on my chest, caressing my skin wantonly, fingers grasping the fastenings of my trousers.
The grip of my hands on your skin, teasing, pulling, kissing down your neck, your shoulder, your chest, releasing your heaving breasts, sucking hard on your nipple, pulling you into my hungry mouth, teeth teasing you mercilessly. Your gasping hot breath resounding in my ear as you tightly clutch my head to you.
I wanted desperately to satisfy your every desire, my body burning with passion to have you. The feeling of the soft skin of your fingers searching in my trousers, relishing the heat of what you find, gently stroking, soothing my heat for you, yet stoking my passion.
Our time together so precious, our parting so aching, yet we will do it all over again and again and again.
I held you in my arms and didn’t want to let go, but let go I had too.
Your Paramour xxx