Has everybody had a nice Christmas? I can’t believe that it has come and gone already. Myself and J spent most of the holidays apart this year, as he spent a few days with his family, and I travelled down to my parents house to have my own family Christmas. I don’t like being away from J during the holiday periods as it’s the time above all other times that I feel we should be together. But spending a few days with my family was important too, and I know my mum loves having me home, especially for Christmas.
J isn’t totally “accepted” in my family despite countless attempts to get everybody to get along and be nice to each other. It’s been tough getting myself accepted into J’s family too, especially as he has two grown up kids that are more or less around my age. But it all runs fairly smoothly on the whole now. But we decided to go our separate ways for this Christmas as he spent Christmas Day at his ex-wife’s house, so all the family could be together, especially as J has a new grand-daughter this year. (How old am I making him feel right now! Lol). The one member of his family that really doesn’t like me is his ex-wife!! They divorced several years before I met him, so it’s got nothing to do with that, but I guess it’s the ex’s prerogative to dislike the newer model!
But we both had good Christmas’ apart, and I returned home this past Monday, and we never lose our animal lust for one another that we have when we see each other after even just a few days apart. And we get to spend New Year’s together. Still haven’t quite decided where we’re going for New Years Eve yet, we have a couple of options.
I’ve recently picked up a part-time job at a bar on top of my standard 9-5 work schedule, so it’s still a busy time for me at the moment. It’s an expensive life I lead, and I need the extra money unfortunately. It’s great to get back into the bar-work scene though, I really do miss it. No offence to anybody who does that for a living, but I do feel that bar-work is beneath me as a career path. But it really is my calling in life – I get to dress up pretty, be leered at, be flirty, be chatty, meet lots of different people – it really is a great job to have, so I’m glad to be doing it again. Don;t know how long I’ll carry on doing it, maybe until I get bored, maybe until I pay off a few debts and don’t need the money as much, or maybe I’ll have to quit when I have to get back to studying around March time as I may not have the time.
On the topic of exams... Thanks to all those who wished me luck in my exams as well by the way, I did manage to get all three of them completed. I almost didn’t bother going in for one of them as I hadn’t done anywhere near enough study, but I did bite the bullet and went and sat it anyway. I’m just useless at home study, I always think I can be good at it, but there’s always better things to do. I did a college course for one of my papers, so did quite a bit of work for that away from home. But then the other two were all down to me to study at my own desire. And I couldn’t get the mix right, I tried studying a little bit of each every week, but just got confused, so I ended up concentrating solely on one paper for several weeks, and then lacked the time to do any proper study on the others. I really don’t know how I did – I need 50% to pass, and I’d like to think that I’m hopeful that I did enough to get at least that in all three of them. I did get 35% on the exam I took in June after all, and I only started studying for that less than a week before the exam, so I’d hope to do better with well over a month of decent attempted studying behind me.
I’m trying to get back to work on the blog – lots to talk about in coming weeks. Need to get Chapters 5 and onwards of the “Journey” blog written and posted, and have lots of current day catch-up events to bring you all up to date on as well. So I will try to get busy with that very soon, I promise.
This is my final blog of 2009, so have a great New Year everybody, and I’ll see you in 2010!
Had lots of e-mails in the past couple of months from old friends and new friends alike, so thanks for those. I’ve been trying to reply to them all as quickly as possible. And on that note...
E-MAILING ME – if you ever do e-mail me (at blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk), make sure you add my e-mail address to your safe list, as some people are finding that my replies get caught in their spam filter. I don’t want anybody thinking that I’m not replying when I am!!
Take care everybody – until next time...
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Life. Show all posts
Thursday, 31 December 2009
Sunday, 20 September 2009
The Journey… Chapter Four – The descent begins
I must say, I really kind of flourished in my first few months at Uni. Meeting so many new people, and being in a completely different place without any safety net – it just caused my personality to force itself to the surface, I came right out of my shell, and the sweet yet outgoing and flirty girl that I am today made her first real venture out into the world. I also took a much bigger interest in clothes and fashion, and how I looked and my appearance in general, which isn’t hard to do when you move to a much bigger city and find so many more options and styles available to you. So I was in the process of a transition from pretty but plain, to gorgeous little sex kitten.
My God, I think I became popular – no, it couldn’t be, surely!! Lol
But I really must have been popular in my group, because after striking up a friendship with one of the “mature students” in our class – he was well into his fifties, was semi-retired and just generally taking a part-time Uni course to keep his mind busy and follow his passions – I managed to get him accepted into our circle of 18-21 year old friends, purely based on my say so.
I liked him personally, he had such knowledge of the world, and was so interesting, so easy to talk to, and he was pretty much the only person I found at Uni who I could sit down for an hour or two with and just discuss books and random bits of literature with, he was a good intellectual foil for me. We met in one of my classes, he was treated like a bit of an outsider by everybody, despite his best efforts to be nice and join in the group conversations and discussions. But a few weeks in, we were given a little project to do in pairs, and I felt a little sorry for him as he sat there and kind of waited for everyone else to pair off to see who he was left with. So I strutted over to him (I say strutted because my new found popular “gorgeous little sex kitten” persona had somehow lead to me developing a bit of a “sex-kitten strut” – or it could have been that I’d started to wear heels on a regular basis for the first time ever and was struggling to walk properly! lol), with my long blonde hair flowing, my big eyes twinkling, and with my cute little smile, and asked if he wanted to team up with me.
So we did, and after class we went to the main Uni building, had coffee, and chatted about the project and our ideas, which lead to chatting about loads of other stuff, and we ended up enthralled in each others words for about 3 or 4 hours. That night I went back to my student accommodation room, and I masturbated myself into such an intense orgasm. It wasn’t even sexual really, I was only thinking about him talking to me, there was no sex involved in my fantasy, I just found his intelligence and interestingness (is that even a word? lol) the biggest turn on ever. My school-girl crush had began for this older married class-mate of mine. And two days later it was my nineteenth birthday, and I was stunned to find a huge bunch of flowers arrive from him, with the simple message “I really enjoyed chatting with you. Have a wonderful birthday!”. He wasn’t helping me fan the flames of my crush at all!
My mind set became quite similar to the crush I had two years earlier, and I desperately wanted him just to notice me. I wasn’t expecting it to go anywhere, and part of me didn’t even want it to go anywhere, just like when I was 17, I just wanted him to reciprocate my crush in some form or another.
But my submissiveness really did start to take over this time, as time went by, even though at this point I can’t say I really knew what “submissive” meant, nor did I know that I could possibly be one. My relationship with Tom (not his real-name, but it’s better than calling him the older married guy from Uni for the rest of this story!!) was just the normal friends relationship for quite a while, albeit a little bit flirty when we were away from other people’s company, and it was certainly the slowest developing relationship I’ve ever had – like I said, I don’t think either of us had any real desire to take this anywhere.
He became quite a fixture within our friendship group – not into the clubbing and bar-hopping part of it, but whilst at Uni and for drinks or coffee, or lunch after classes, he was readily accepted into the group as a friend and perhaps a bit of a father figure. He didn’t throw cold water on our shenanigans, he was a nice guy, and everyone liked him and didn’t shy away from any kind of conversation just because he was there – sex, girls, guys, we made him endure it all, and he chipped in when he could.
It was approaching Christmas-time when during one such group conversation about girls, how girls dress, and in particular high heels, Tom stated that he particularly enjoyed seeing girls in high heels and he was amazed at just how high the heels had become on the young girls of today. The next day when getting dressed for Uni I subconsciously pulled out my sexiest and highest heels to put on, which were only four inches high back then, and then thought to myself “why am I wearing these?” as they were purely going out shoes and not really Uni day-wear. I then remembered what Tom had said the day before, smiled to myself, and put them on anyway, and at Uni that day I made the effort to make sure he noticed them.
I carried on wearing heels every day that I knew I would be seeing Tom, even using it as an excuse to do a bit of shoe shopping here and there, and I think he appreciated it and realised I was trying to impress him a little. And shortly after that he started throwing in other “suggestions” about things he liked to see, sometimes in group situations and sometimes in general private conversations, but never implied to be anything more than a passing comment. It was a bit of a running “joke” between us that was never spoken about. He’d say something, the next day I’d do it, we’d share a little smile, but it never went further and was never directly discussed. Anything from wearing red nail varnish, to wearing red lipstick, to wearing my hair down instead of up, or if he was being more bold when there was just the two of us he might make a comment about the short skirt or the low cut top that another girl was wearing, and just give me a cheeky smile, and the next time we’d meet I’d be wearing a skirt just as short or a top with just as much cleavage on display. It was all quite low key really, but for me it laid the foundations of my submissiveness for the future.
I think we were both really enjoying the general fun and flirty, and weirdly D/s, relationship we’d generated, but I don’t think either of us really planned to step it up a notch or anything, there were a lot of factors that stood in our way – the age-gap, his marriage, sometimes I was in relationships as I did date through my first year at Uni, even if none of them were particularly serious, it was a pretty “off” year for me in that respect.
But needless to say, slowly but surely it did develop. There was no leeway whatsoever in how it had been going along, so a change had to come along at some point. And it came one day when he was driving me back to my Uni flat after class, I got out of the car and was about to walk away when he called my name. I looked in through his open window, and he said to me, “don’t wear a bra tomorrow”, smiled, and drove away without giving me the chance to respond. It was a fairly significant change to the dynamic of our relationship – never before had he given me a specific and direct instruction, they’d all previously been thinly guised as passing comments and nothing was directly said between the two of us that anything was happening between us.
So the next day came, and off to Uni I went, in a pretty strappy top with decent cleavage on view, and no bra underneath. I was a little worried that it was too obvious that I wasn’t wearing a bra, I had tried to find a happy medium, I didn’t want it to be too obvious to everybody, I wanted it to be a little more subtle, but I did want Tom to be able to notice without too much effort. I don’t think I found that happy medium though – everybody’s eyes just gravitated to my chest as I walked by. I found out something else about myself that day as well though… I actually loved the attention, I really did! As all the eyes lingered on me, my heart started beating faster and harder, and I was shocked to notice that my nipples stiffened almost instantaneously. My inner-slut came out to play, and it was a strange, strange feeling.
I didn’t speak to Tom when I got to Uni, the first time I saw him was at the start of class, and we were sitting about 7 or 8 seats apart – the seating was in a general semi-circle so we were slightly facing each other and only maybe 4-5 metres away from one another. My phone then vibrated, I opened up the unread message from Tom, and it read, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were enjoying the attention, you naughty girl!”. I replied with “do I have your attention?”, and he responded “oh, something’s definitely at attention!”, and finally I texted back “Then I definitely AM enjoying the attention!”
This was another first for us, we’d never sent each other text’s of a naughty variety before. This was definitely a new chapter in our relationship, and I was definitely excited about what the future may hold now we’d turned this corner and were both fully aware of, and acknowledging, that there was something between us… even if it had taken 6 months since meeting to get here.
To be continued…
My God, I think I became popular – no, it couldn’t be, surely!! Lol
But I really must have been popular in my group, because after striking up a friendship with one of the “mature students” in our class – he was well into his fifties, was semi-retired and just generally taking a part-time Uni course to keep his mind busy and follow his passions – I managed to get him accepted into our circle of 18-21 year old friends, purely based on my say so.
I liked him personally, he had such knowledge of the world, and was so interesting, so easy to talk to, and he was pretty much the only person I found at Uni who I could sit down for an hour or two with and just discuss books and random bits of literature with, he was a good intellectual foil for me. We met in one of my classes, he was treated like a bit of an outsider by everybody, despite his best efforts to be nice and join in the group conversations and discussions. But a few weeks in, we were given a little project to do in pairs, and I felt a little sorry for him as he sat there and kind of waited for everyone else to pair off to see who he was left with. So I strutted over to him (I say strutted because my new found popular “gorgeous little sex kitten” persona had somehow lead to me developing a bit of a “sex-kitten strut” – or it could have been that I’d started to wear heels on a regular basis for the first time ever and was struggling to walk properly! lol), with my long blonde hair flowing, my big eyes twinkling, and with my cute little smile, and asked if he wanted to team up with me.
So we did, and after class we went to the main Uni building, had coffee, and chatted about the project and our ideas, which lead to chatting about loads of other stuff, and we ended up enthralled in each others words for about 3 or 4 hours. That night I went back to my student accommodation room, and I masturbated myself into such an intense orgasm. It wasn’t even sexual really, I was only thinking about him talking to me, there was no sex involved in my fantasy, I just found his intelligence and interestingness (is that even a word? lol) the biggest turn on ever. My school-girl crush had began for this older married class-mate of mine. And two days later it was my nineteenth birthday, and I was stunned to find a huge bunch of flowers arrive from him, with the simple message “I really enjoyed chatting with you. Have a wonderful birthday!”. He wasn’t helping me fan the flames of my crush at all!
My mind set became quite similar to the crush I had two years earlier, and I desperately wanted him just to notice me. I wasn’t expecting it to go anywhere, and part of me didn’t even want it to go anywhere, just like when I was 17, I just wanted him to reciprocate my crush in some form or another.
But my submissiveness really did start to take over this time, as time went by, even though at this point I can’t say I really knew what “submissive” meant, nor did I know that I could possibly be one. My relationship with Tom (not his real-name, but it’s better than calling him the older married guy from Uni for the rest of this story!!) was just the normal friends relationship for quite a while, albeit a little bit flirty when we were away from other people’s company, and it was certainly the slowest developing relationship I’ve ever had – like I said, I don’t think either of us had any real desire to take this anywhere.
He became quite a fixture within our friendship group – not into the clubbing and bar-hopping part of it, but whilst at Uni and for drinks or coffee, or lunch after classes, he was readily accepted into the group as a friend and perhaps a bit of a father figure. He didn’t throw cold water on our shenanigans, he was a nice guy, and everyone liked him and didn’t shy away from any kind of conversation just because he was there – sex, girls, guys, we made him endure it all, and he chipped in when he could.
It was approaching Christmas-time when during one such group conversation about girls, how girls dress, and in particular high heels, Tom stated that he particularly enjoyed seeing girls in high heels and he was amazed at just how high the heels had become on the young girls of today. The next day when getting dressed for Uni I subconsciously pulled out my sexiest and highest heels to put on, which were only four inches high back then, and then thought to myself “why am I wearing these?” as they were purely going out shoes and not really Uni day-wear. I then remembered what Tom had said the day before, smiled to myself, and put them on anyway, and at Uni that day I made the effort to make sure he noticed them.
I carried on wearing heels every day that I knew I would be seeing Tom, even using it as an excuse to do a bit of shoe shopping here and there, and I think he appreciated it and realised I was trying to impress him a little. And shortly after that he started throwing in other “suggestions” about things he liked to see, sometimes in group situations and sometimes in general private conversations, but never implied to be anything more than a passing comment. It was a bit of a running “joke” between us that was never spoken about. He’d say something, the next day I’d do it, we’d share a little smile, but it never went further and was never directly discussed. Anything from wearing red nail varnish, to wearing red lipstick, to wearing my hair down instead of up, or if he was being more bold when there was just the two of us he might make a comment about the short skirt or the low cut top that another girl was wearing, and just give me a cheeky smile, and the next time we’d meet I’d be wearing a skirt just as short or a top with just as much cleavage on display. It was all quite low key really, but for me it laid the foundations of my submissiveness for the future.
I think we were both really enjoying the general fun and flirty, and weirdly D/s, relationship we’d generated, but I don’t think either of us really planned to step it up a notch or anything, there were a lot of factors that stood in our way – the age-gap, his marriage, sometimes I was in relationships as I did date through my first year at Uni, even if none of them were particularly serious, it was a pretty “off” year for me in that respect.
But needless to say, slowly but surely it did develop. There was no leeway whatsoever in how it had been going along, so a change had to come along at some point. And it came one day when he was driving me back to my Uni flat after class, I got out of the car and was about to walk away when he called my name. I looked in through his open window, and he said to me, “don’t wear a bra tomorrow”, smiled, and drove away without giving me the chance to respond. It was a fairly significant change to the dynamic of our relationship – never before had he given me a specific and direct instruction, they’d all previously been thinly guised as passing comments and nothing was directly said between the two of us that anything was happening between us.
So the next day came, and off to Uni I went, in a pretty strappy top with decent cleavage on view, and no bra underneath. I was a little worried that it was too obvious that I wasn’t wearing a bra, I had tried to find a happy medium, I didn’t want it to be too obvious to everybody, I wanted it to be a little more subtle, but I did want Tom to be able to notice without too much effort. I don’t think I found that happy medium though – everybody’s eyes just gravitated to my chest as I walked by. I found out something else about myself that day as well though… I actually loved the attention, I really did! As all the eyes lingered on me, my heart started beating faster and harder, and I was shocked to notice that my nipples stiffened almost instantaneously. My inner-slut came out to play, and it was a strange, strange feeling.
I didn’t speak to Tom when I got to Uni, the first time I saw him was at the start of class, and we were sitting about 7 or 8 seats apart – the seating was in a general semi-circle so we were slightly facing each other and only maybe 4-5 metres away from one another. My phone then vibrated, I opened up the unread message from Tom, and it read, “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were enjoying the attention, you naughty girl!”. I replied with “do I have your attention?”, and he responded “oh, something’s definitely at attention!”, and finally I texted back “Then I definitely AM enjoying the attention!”
This was another first for us, we’d never sent each other text’s of a naughty variety before. This was definitely a new chapter in our relationship, and I was definitely excited about what the future may hold now we’d turned this corner and were both fully aware of, and acknowledging, that there was something between us… even if it had taken 6 months since meeting to get here.
To be continued…
Thursday, 3 September 2009
The Journey... Chapter Three - Going Off To Uni
I really need to jump ahead to around my 19th birthday now to get to the next really big event, but that’s 18-24 months further down the line from where I’m currently at in my story time-line, and those two years are important to the long-term story, so I need to slow it down and tell the story properly…
After the events of my seventeenth birthday, I started dating a very nice guy I met at college, lost my “full” virginity to him on Valentines Day as I mentioned in Chapter One, and we dated for a good year after that. We had reached the point where we had both exclaimed that we loved each other, and we got along great, despite the fact that we were heading in very different directions with our lives. We’d been applying for University places, and were looking at Uni’s at completely different ends of the country because we both had separate career goals and aims in life, so we both knew that we’d probably have to break up at some point, whether it be by necessity or whatever, or one of us would have to make a big sacrifice for the other. But we let that slide by us, and just enjoyed each others company and lived in the now – the future was so far away! We developed a pretty healthy sex life after our first time, and quickly realised we not only both really enjoyed sex, but even more importantly, we really enjoyed sex with each other. So we were all over each other at every opportunity. Living with our parents, it was tough to find the right times, but we managed it. Many a time we’d be at one of our houses with our parents, and they’d announce they were popping out for half an hour, and we’d be ripping each others clothes off before they even got out the door so we could make every second count. My dad didn’t let him stay over with me in my room until after my 18th birthday, and even then, full blown let your hair down sex was out of the question – no screaming orgasms with my parents in the next room!! Lol.
We were also quite open with each other sexually, which is very unusual for such a young and inexperienced couple. We would read things in magazines or on the internet and we’d be like “hey, you wanna try this?” I very quickly realised my sexual inhibitions were a lot less than my general life inhibitions. Dressing up, fantasy play, we even had a couple of unsuccessful attempts at anal sex.
But the cracks eventually began to show as we started to grow apart a little, and argue a bit more than normal. And eventually we broke up. It was a fairly amicable break-up though, and we stayed friends to a degree afterwards.
My next boyfriend a couple of months later didn’t last long – he got really mad about some sort of slutty rumour about me that my ex’s new girlfriend had started, and wouldn’t accept my version of the truth, so he got thrown to the curb quick-smart, because I wasn’t dealing with that shit!
But I still had some fairly strong sexual fantasies about my 17th birthday, and thinking of that had certainly been the catalyst for many sessions of self-pleasure in the evenings in the 18 months or so since it happened. And, being a single girl as my two year college stint was drawing to a close, and having the older-man fantasy at the fore-front of my subconscious, I happened upon an older gent at the hotel bar I was now working in – I’d moved up in the world from chamber maid to bar-girl since turning 18 – and decided to give the older guy thing a proper try.
I don’t really have a bad word to say about him – we dated for around three months, and during that time he showered me with gifts and treated me very well. Overall, he was nice enough, and we had some decent sex, but he just didn’t seem to be quite as enthusiastic about it all as I was used to. Maybe it was just because I was very much in the youthful experimentation phase with my previous boyfriends, and he was a little past that stage, having already found what he did and didn’t like, and in more of a routine. I even started doubting my blow-job skills because he never even really seemed to enjoy that aspect of our sex-life. And I’d spent a year giving head to my ex very regularly, polishing and improving my technique with each and every one. We had our own little code language for it so we didn’t have to be too crude – we joked that I was a “qualified oral practitioner” – okay, I never said it was a SECRET code language!! Lol. He did very much enjoy giving oral sex though, and he did increase my liking of that. And he did really enjoy me being dressed nice and sexily, he loved me in sexy lingerie and negligee, and going from dating poor students to a man who’d been working for 20 years meant he had the cash to buy it all for me!! The benefits of the older man! Lol. He even bought me my first couple of pairs of stockings, although at this point in time they were limited to bedroom wearing.
But back to the story – me and my older man, we just didn’t gel right; even when my Dad practically disowned me for dating him, the taboo of dating him, although it possibly prolonged our relationship due to the teenage rebellious instinct within me, just wasn’t enough to hold us together and create any real feelings between us. Well I say that, he was actually besotted with me and told me he loved me – I just didn’t quite feel the same way about him. I thought he was a great guy, and I liked him, but I couldn’t go as far as love. I don’t know what it was – it just wasn’t like what I thought it would or should be. I guess it was because he just didn’t have a dominant bone in his body, and whether I realised it or not, that’s what I really wanted when I went down the older man route. I wanted a take-charge kind of guy, someone who could show me something different, show me a different way of life, and just “take me”.
So we eventually broke up – very amicably with some sex for the road – and I swore off men for my remaining month at home before I’d be off out into the big world, heading to Uni… young, free, and single! And I told myself I’d stick to guys my own age again.
I’d been accepted into two completely different Uni’s, doing two completely different courses. Uni A was about 250 miles from my home-town, and there I got accepted for a Finance Degree. Uni B was a mere 200 miles away and offered a completely different degree course in English Literature. I was still undecided about my life path – I had the sensible choice of the Finance degree, offering a good career utilising my strong numeric and mathematical skills that I’d got from my Dad’s side of the family. Then there was the less sensible choice; follow my love of books and the English language, study different writing styles and authors, and chase my dream of becoming a writer.
Just to clarify on the miles – if you’re reading in somewhere like the USA, 200-250 miles probably seems minimal, an afternoon drive to the next city or something. Here in the UK, it’s half way across the country and then some!! Lol. And forgive the lack of exact locations, trying to hold some key details back to keep some anonymity here!
Anyway – I’ve spoken about being a part-qualified accountant, so it’s pretty obvious which Degree course I chose isn’t it? Yes, that’s right, I went to Uni B for the English Literature course!! And yes, I’m serious, that isn’t a joke. I was 18, I wasn’t practical and thinking about getting a 9-5 job for life, I was going to chase my dream!!
To be honest, if I’d chosen the Finance degree, now with hind sight of actually trying to become an accountant, I’d probably be on loads more money now as I’d probably be fully qualified and flying, but I won’t complain about my chosen path – I loved the degree I did as I absolutely love the written word, and I love the way my life has turned out from taking this path in my life, and the experiences that Degree Course gave me along the way.
September came, and I threw most of my belongings into my older brothers car – he was driving me there as I had no car (or licence) of my own – and we hit the northbound road to my new Uni home, we got there and I moved into my first home away from home – one of the big student accommodation blocks of flats, where I had a pretty tiny room in a pretty tiny flat that I was to share with two strangers. Such a scary moment in my life, I was like a fish out of water. But everybody else is in the same boat, so everyone helps everyone out. And soon Fresher week commences, the cheap alcohol flows, and everyone becomes the best of friends!!
Fresher week was full of many firsts for me; it was my first week at Uni, my first week living away from home, my first week living in a big city, it was even my first time living in a completely different country! England is a different country to Wales, honestly!! Lol. I was really out of my comfort zone, trying to make lasting friendships with complete strangers from different walks of life and from all different parts of the country, it seemed like a million miles away from my home area, where I knew people, and people knew me. And it soon became the scene for my first ever drunken one night stand.
I think there must be more one night stands in the early weeks of Uni than anywhere else at any time, and if everybody feels the way I did at that time, I can certainly understand why. I felt lonely, frustrated, and isolated, and frankly cheap, meaningless sex was not only a release, and not only a way to pass the time, it was a way to numb those feelings for a short time. Plus he was incredibly gorgeous and a pretty damn good fuck! Lol. Even if he snuck off straight afterwards!! Boys!!
Another first for me that week – my first STD. Just a minor one and I got it cleared up in a few weeks, but I just want to take this point to say something, as I know there is a younger audience of the late teens and early twenties that read my blog. PRACTICE SAFE SEX!! Always carry a condom, both boys and girls, it’s better to be safe if you plan on having sex, and it’s horrible to ruin a perfectly good, enjoyable, and natural act by passing on infections!! Didn’t really need to tell that bit for the story, just wanted to get on my soap box for a moment and try and be Little Miss Responsible!! Lol
After that I kind of swore off guys for a bit – I decided I wanted to commit my time to two things, starting on the right foot at Uni, and finding a job in the big city. I did both, starting well at Uni, and getting a job at a big city centre hotel chain doing bar and waitress work at their restaurant, sticking to the work I’d known in the past.
But after all of that, once again I undo all my hard work by getting yet another big school-girl crush on a guy!! My life seems to be full of school-girl crushes, I get one every so often, even to this day, and it’s usually on somebody completely inappropriate. And boy was this one inappropriate – not only was he significantly older than me, he was also married!! And as time would tell, it would prove to be one of the best and worst things that has ever happened to me, combined into one, and I can tell you one thing above all else – I’d just turned 19, and the next year of my life sure wasn’t going to be a boring one!!
To be continued in Chapter Four…
After the events of my seventeenth birthday, I started dating a very nice guy I met at college, lost my “full” virginity to him on Valentines Day as I mentioned in Chapter One, and we dated for a good year after that. We had reached the point where we had both exclaimed that we loved each other, and we got along great, despite the fact that we were heading in very different directions with our lives. We’d been applying for University places, and were looking at Uni’s at completely different ends of the country because we both had separate career goals and aims in life, so we both knew that we’d probably have to break up at some point, whether it be by necessity or whatever, or one of us would have to make a big sacrifice for the other. But we let that slide by us, and just enjoyed each others company and lived in the now – the future was so far away! We developed a pretty healthy sex life after our first time, and quickly realised we not only both really enjoyed sex, but even more importantly, we really enjoyed sex with each other. So we were all over each other at every opportunity. Living with our parents, it was tough to find the right times, but we managed it. Many a time we’d be at one of our houses with our parents, and they’d announce they were popping out for half an hour, and we’d be ripping each others clothes off before they even got out the door so we could make every second count. My dad didn’t let him stay over with me in my room until after my 18th birthday, and even then, full blown let your hair down sex was out of the question – no screaming orgasms with my parents in the next room!! Lol.
We were also quite open with each other sexually, which is very unusual for such a young and inexperienced couple. We would read things in magazines or on the internet and we’d be like “hey, you wanna try this?” I very quickly realised my sexual inhibitions were a lot less than my general life inhibitions. Dressing up, fantasy play, we even had a couple of unsuccessful attempts at anal sex.
But the cracks eventually began to show as we started to grow apart a little, and argue a bit more than normal. And eventually we broke up. It was a fairly amicable break-up though, and we stayed friends to a degree afterwards.
My next boyfriend a couple of months later didn’t last long – he got really mad about some sort of slutty rumour about me that my ex’s new girlfriend had started, and wouldn’t accept my version of the truth, so he got thrown to the curb quick-smart, because I wasn’t dealing with that shit!
But I still had some fairly strong sexual fantasies about my 17th birthday, and thinking of that had certainly been the catalyst for many sessions of self-pleasure in the evenings in the 18 months or so since it happened. And, being a single girl as my two year college stint was drawing to a close, and having the older-man fantasy at the fore-front of my subconscious, I happened upon an older gent at the hotel bar I was now working in – I’d moved up in the world from chamber maid to bar-girl since turning 18 – and decided to give the older guy thing a proper try.
I don’t really have a bad word to say about him – we dated for around three months, and during that time he showered me with gifts and treated me very well. Overall, he was nice enough, and we had some decent sex, but he just didn’t seem to be quite as enthusiastic about it all as I was used to. Maybe it was just because I was very much in the youthful experimentation phase with my previous boyfriends, and he was a little past that stage, having already found what he did and didn’t like, and in more of a routine. I even started doubting my blow-job skills because he never even really seemed to enjoy that aspect of our sex-life. And I’d spent a year giving head to my ex very regularly, polishing and improving my technique with each and every one. We had our own little code language for it so we didn’t have to be too crude – we joked that I was a “qualified oral practitioner” – okay, I never said it was a SECRET code language!! Lol. He did very much enjoy giving oral sex though, and he did increase my liking of that. And he did really enjoy me being dressed nice and sexily, he loved me in sexy lingerie and negligee, and going from dating poor students to a man who’d been working for 20 years meant he had the cash to buy it all for me!! The benefits of the older man! Lol. He even bought me my first couple of pairs of stockings, although at this point in time they were limited to bedroom wearing.
But back to the story – me and my older man, we just didn’t gel right; even when my Dad practically disowned me for dating him, the taboo of dating him, although it possibly prolonged our relationship due to the teenage rebellious instinct within me, just wasn’t enough to hold us together and create any real feelings between us. Well I say that, he was actually besotted with me and told me he loved me – I just didn’t quite feel the same way about him. I thought he was a great guy, and I liked him, but I couldn’t go as far as love. I don’t know what it was – it just wasn’t like what I thought it would or should be. I guess it was because he just didn’t have a dominant bone in his body, and whether I realised it or not, that’s what I really wanted when I went down the older man route. I wanted a take-charge kind of guy, someone who could show me something different, show me a different way of life, and just “take me”.
So we eventually broke up – very amicably with some sex for the road – and I swore off men for my remaining month at home before I’d be off out into the big world, heading to Uni… young, free, and single! And I told myself I’d stick to guys my own age again.
I’d been accepted into two completely different Uni’s, doing two completely different courses. Uni A was about 250 miles from my home-town, and there I got accepted for a Finance Degree. Uni B was a mere 200 miles away and offered a completely different degree course in English Literature. I was still undecided about my life path – I had the sensible choice of the Finance degree, offering a good career utilising my strong numeric and mathematical skills that I’d got from my Dad’s side of the family. Then there was the less sensible choice; follow my love of books and the English language, study different writing styles and authors, and chase my dream of becoming a writer.
Just to clarify on the miles – if you’re reading in somewhere like the USA, 200-250 miles probably seems minimal, an afternoon drive to the next city or something. Here in the UK, it’s half way across the country and then some!! Lol. And forgive the lack of exact locations, trying to hold some key details back to keep some anonymity here!
Anyway – I’ve spoken about being a part-qualified accountant, so it’s pretty obvious which Degree course I chose isn’t it? Yes, that’s right, I went to Uni B for the English Literature course!! And yes, I’m serious, that isn’t a joke. I was 18, I wasn’t practical and thinking about getting a 9-5 job for life, I was going to chase my dream!!
To be honest, if I’d chosen the Finance degree, now with hind sight of actually trying to become an accountant, I’d probably be on loads more money now as I’d probably be fully qualified and flying, but I won’t complain about my chosen path – I loved the degree I did as I absolutely love the written word, and I love the way my life has turned out from taking this path in my life, and the experiences that Degree Course gave me along the way.
September came, and I threw most of my belongings into my older brothers car – he was driving me there as I had no car (or licence) of my own – and we hit the northbound road to my new Uni home, we got there and I moved into my first home away from home – one of the big student accommodation blocks of flats, where I had a pretty tiny room in a pretty tiny flat that I was to share with two strangers. Such a scary moment in my life, I was like a fish out of water. But everybody else is in the same boat, so everyone helps everyone out. And soon Fresher week commences, the cheap alcohol flows, and everyone becomes the best of friends!!
Fresher week was full of many firsts for me; it was my first week at Uni, my first week living away from home, my first week living in a big city, it was even my first time living in a completely different country! England is a different country to Wales, honestly!! Lol. I was really out of my comfort zone, trying to make lasting friendships with complete strangers from different walks of life and from all different parts of the country, it seemed like a million miles away from my home area, where I knew people, and people knew me. And it soon became the scene for my first ever drunken one night stand.
I think there must be more one night stands in the early weeks of Uni than anywhere else at any time, and if everybody feels the way I did at that time, I can certainly understand why. I felt lonely, frustrated, and isolated, and frankly cheap, meaningless sex was not only a release, and not only a way to pass the time, it was a way to numb those feelings for a short time. Plus he was incredibly gorgeous and a pretty damn good fuck! Lol. Even if he snuck off straight afterwards!! Boys!!
Another first for me that week – my first STD. Just a minor one and I got it cleared up in a few weeks, but I just want to take this point to say something, as I know there is a younger audience of the late teens and early twenties that read my blog. PRACTICE SAFE SEX!! Always carry a condom, both boys and girls, it’s better to be safe if you plan on having sex, and it’s horrible to ruin a perfectly good, enjoyable, and natural act by passing on infections!! Didn’t really need to tell that bit for the story, just wanted to get on my soap box for a moment and try and be Little Miss Responsible!! Lol
After that I kind of swore off guys for a bit – I decided I wanted to commit my time to two things, starting on the right foot at Uni, and finding a job in the big city. I did both, starting well at Uni, and getting a job at a big city centre hotel chain doing bar and waitress work at their restaurant, sticking to the work I’d known in the past.
But after all of that, once again I undo all my hard work by getting yet another big school-girl crush on a guy!! My life seems to be full of school-girl crushes, I get one every so often, even to this day, and it’s usually on somebody completely inappropriate. And boy was this one inappropriate – not only was he significantly older than me, he was also married!! And as time would tell, it would prove to be one of the best and worst things that has ever happened to me, combined into one, and I can tell you one thing above all else – I’d just turned 19, and the next year of my life sure wasn’t going to be a boring one!!
To be continued in Chapter Four…
Wednesday, 12 August 2009
The Journey… Chapter One – Growing Up
This is Chapter One of a multi-part series of blogs, describing my journey through life and how I found the D/s lifestyle. Hope you enjoy, and please bare with me through the boring bits – the story builds through the chapters...
Growing up in a fairly small town in South Wales, a town that most city dwellers would consider rural, even though we were practically at the cusp of the bright lights and high luxury living compared to many other towns and villages not too far away, it’s hard to really explain how my interest in the world of D/s began.
Nothing around me in my childhood and teenage years gave me any exposure to that kind of lifestyle. I was just a fairly shy and quiet girl, and yet still quite a girly girl. I had a few boyfriends in my teens, but nothing too major, and despite being somewhat pretty, I hadn’t blossomed quite yet, so I was by no means the most popular girl with either the boys or the girls. I was a happy medium, a “floater” when it came to the high school cliques. I was friends with the popular groups, but equally friendly with the smart kids and the sporty kids.
My parents thought I was a pretty good daughter, I wasn’t into drugs, or smoking, or drinking, I didn’t stay out too late, too often, and anything I did do wrong, they rarely found out about, so I was seemingly a picture perfect daughter. I even had a busy extra-curricular life, with a keen interest in gymnastics, which I did between the ages of 8 and 16, finishing with a lacklustre and failed attempt to become a rhythmic gymnast of national level. Rhythmic Gymnastics is the one where you jump and dance around with the big ribbon – just so you know! Lol
I was the apple of my dad’s eye, his only little girl (I have two brothers, one younger, one older), but I idolised my mum and loved her to pieces. She was everything I thought a woman should be – she always made the effort to look nice, a bit of make-up, nice feminine clothes, she was a good wife and mother, and she was independent. She worked, she was smart and intelligent, and she brought in her own share of the household income.
So where did I go wrong?! LOL ;-p
I’m not saying I had the perfect childhood, but I’m certainly not going to complain about it. It was pretty good, I felt loved and supported, and it’s set me up with good principals and a good base model to follow for when I have my own family in the future.
I came out of my shell a little when I was about 16 or 17. My friendship groups expanded as I left school and began at college, and my personality began to flourish as I developed my own identity. I was a bit of a “follower” at school, I liked what everyone else liked, my music taste was what everyone else listened to, I shopped where everyone else shopped. I was the typical shy, non-confrontational teen who fitted in with everybody because I had become the same as everybody. Looking back I can see how I envied the “individuals” at school. Some loved them, some hated them, but at least they were who they were!
My college was a bit further away from my hometown, so I guess you could say my horizons had expanded and I followed in my mum’s footsteps in becoming more independent and self-reliant, taking a weekend job in a nearby hotel, cleaning the rooms and helping with other minor chores around the place, to fund my travel and expanding social life. And meeting new people meant I could start afresh and be a new me. I felt renewed and re-invigorated.
I know what you’re all thinking – this blog is boring, where’s the sex and slutiness?!
Be patient my loyal followers, I’m about to turn 17 when my sexual experiences start, and all of this was just setting the scene for when I turn 18, move 200 miles away from home to go to University, and find my inner-slut!
So it was Valentine’s Day of the year 2000 when I finally lost my virginity, at the ample age of 17 years, 4 months, and 4 days. My college boyfriend was the guy it happened with – we’d been dating for nearly four months, and he’d been wanting it to happen for about, I don’t know, 3 months and 29 days! Lol. We’d got to “second base” several times already, getting half naked, fumbling and fondling under clothes, and he’d got a few hand-jobs just to keep him happy.
He had the house to himself as his parents were out for the evening, and to be fair to him, he’d set the scene just right. Candles, soft lighting, soft music, it was generally how a girl wants her first time to be. We kissed, we took it slowly, we explored each others bodies, I gave him the first of many blow jobs that he’d be getting over the next several months from me, and we progressed to the bedroom and made love for the first time. And it was a very enjoyable first time at that – he was just the right mix of gentle, forceful, and guiding, taking the lead due to his slightly greater experience.
We dated for several months after this and we developed a very good sexual relationship, learning a lot from each other, and we both enjoyed the occasional “game” where he just “took” me, just taking control and having his way with me no matter what.
I was going to say that it was the first time I realised that I enjoyed giving away my control to the guy for sexual matters. But actually it was the second…
To be continued...
Chapter Two will be posted in the next 7-14 days, in the meantime, please feel free to e-mail me your thoughts, feedback and comments. I can be found at blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk - you may need to add me to your "safe list" if you don't want my reply to get caught in your spam filter.
Growing up in a fairly small town in South Wales, a town that most city dwellers would consider rural, even though we were practically at the cusp of the bright lights and high luxury living compared to many other towns and villages not too far away, it’s hard to really explain how my interest in the world of D/s began.
Nothing around me in my childhood and teenage years gave me any exposure to that kind of lifestyle. I was just a fairly shy and quiet girl, and yet still quite a girly girl. I had a few boyfriends in my teens, but nothing too major, and despite being somewhat pretty, I hadn’t blossomed quite yet, so I was by no means the most popular girl with either the boys or the girls. I was a happy medium, a “floater” when it came to the high school cliques. I was friends with the popular groups, but equally friendly with the smart kids and the sporty kids.
My parents thought I was a pretty good daughter, I wasn’t into drugs, or smoking, or drinking, I didn’t stay out too late, too often, and anything I did do wrong, they rarely found out about, so I was seemingly a picture perfect daughter. I even had a busy extra-curricular life, with a keen interest in gymnastics, which I did between the ages of 8 and 16, finishing with a lacklustre and failed attempt to become a rhythmic gymnast of national level. Rhythmic Gymnastics is the one where you jump and dance around with the big ribbon – just so you know! Lol
I was the apple of my dad’s eye, his only little girl (I have two brothers, one younger, one older), but I idolised my mum and loved her to pieces. She was everything I thought a woman should be – she always made the effort to look nice, a bit of make-up, nice feminine clothes, she was a good wife and mother, and she was independent. She worked, she was smart and intelligent, and she brought in her own share of the household income.
So where did I go wrong?! LOL ;-p
I’m not saying I had the perfect childhood, but I’m certainly not going to complain about it. It was pretty good, I felt loved and supported, and it’s set me up with good principals and a good base model to follow for when I have my own family in the future.
I came out of my shell a little when I was about 16 or 17. My friendship groups expanded as I left school and began at college, and my personality began to flourish as I developed my own identity. I was a bit of a “follower” at school, I liked what everyone else liked, my music taste was what everyone else listened to, I shopped where everyone else shopped. I was the typical shy, non-confrontational teen who fitted in with everybody because I had become the same as everybody. Looking back I can see how I envied the “individuals” at school. Some loved them, some hated them, but at least they were who they were!
My college was a bit further away from my hometown, so I guess you could say my horizons had expanded and I followed in my mum’s footsteps in becoming more independent and self-reliant, taking a weekend job in a nearby hotel, cleaning the rooms and helping with other minor chores around the place, to fund my travel and expanding social life. And meeting new people meant I could start afresh and be a new me. I felt renewed and re-invigorated.
I know what you’re all thinking – this blog is boring, where’s the sex and slutiness?!
Be patient my loyal followers, I’m about to turn 17 when my sexual experiences start, and all of this was just setting the scene for when I turn 18, move 200 miles away from home to go to University, and find my inner-slut!
So it was Valentine’s Day of the year 2000 when I finally lost my virginity, at the ample age of 17 years, 4 months, and 4 days. My college boyfriend was the guy it happened with – we’d been dating for nearly four months, and he’d been wanting it to happen for about, I don’t know, 3 months and 29 days! Lol. We’d got to “second base” several times already, getting half naked, fumbling and fondling under clothes, and he’d got a few hand-jobs just to keep him happy.
He had the house to himself as his parents were out for the evening, and to be fair to him, he’d set the scene just right. Candles, soft lighting, soft music, it was generally how a girl wants her first time to be. We kissed, we took it slowly, we explored each others bodies, I gave him the first of many blow jobs that he’d be getting over the next several months from me, and we progressed to the bedroom and made love for the first time. And it was a very enjoyable first time at that – he was just the right mix of gentle, forceful, and guiding, taking the lead due to his slightly greater experience.
We dated for several months after this and we developed a very good sexual relationship, learning a lot from each other, and we both enjoyed the occasional “game” where he just “took” me, just taking control and having his way with me no matter what.
I was going to say that it was the first time I realised that I enjoyed giving away my control to the guy for sexual matters. But actually it was the second…
To be continued...
Chapter Two will be posted in the next 7-14 days, in the meantime, please feel free to e-mail me your thoughts, feedback and comments. I can be found at blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk - you may need to add me to your "safe list" if you don't want my reply to get caught in your spam filter.
Monday, 18 May 2009
Holidays, Exams, and Work-Work-Work!
Hi everybody,
It’s been a while since you heard from me, I know, and I am truly sorry. Thanks for all the e-mails asking where I was and if I was okay etc. It makes me realise that you do care! Lol
I’m back in study mode at the moment, as I try once again to be the hottest and sexiest college chick around and pick up my accountancy studies again after an 18 month break. I really haven’t done as much work as I should have though, especially with my exam less than two weeks away. To indicate how little work I have actually done, I’m taking a paper on corporate and business LAW, but up until a week ago, I thought it was corporate and business TAX that my paper was on! I think that really shows how unprepared I am, and also the fact that my study text books were still in their original cellophane wrapping until just days ago!
I think I may have to pull out the big guns for this one. With the exam format being that the passing mark changes depending on how well everybody does, if lots of people get high marks, the pass mark may be 60%, if most people do poorly, the pass mark could be 50%. So it gets me thinking, how few clothes would I have to wear to my exam to distract everybody enough that they all do so poorly that I can scrape a pass having not particularly studied at all? Oh, life’s big questions, how you torture me so!
I’ve been incredibly busy lately even without study though. I’m a bit of a go-to-girl at work when it comes to problem solving projects. It’s like the other side of me that often gets overlooked in this blog. I overlook my super intelligence and brilliance in favour of my sluttiness! LOL. But in all seriousness, at work I often get given the problem projects or tasks, with the reasoning being that I love a challenge to sink my teeth into, and I’m pretty good at getting to the bottom of things, solving the problems, and creating new checks and procedures that help prevent them from becoming a problem again. I think I’m so good at it due to my determination and abilities combined with my friendly, flirty nature. I find it’s a lot easier to solve problems when you have the type of personality that encourages people to want to help you, and I feel I have that. It almost feels like I’m in a work performance review here instead of writing a blog! Lol. So I spend a lot of time at work getting things handed over to me to work on, and then handing things back over when I’ve done what I need to do on them. The problem with this is when the crossovers become a bit tight, I get handed a new thing to do on the assumption that something else is winding down and is ready to be handed back over to somebody else, but if there are any delays, I end up hanging onto things for a month or so extra, and suddenly my workload is incredibly full and I have too many balls to juggle.
I like to liken it to an orgy – once you get more than three guys in there, suddenly I run out of places to put them! LOL
So, to sum it up, currently at work I have a few too many guys, I’ve ran out of places to put them, and they’re all feeling a little neglected that I’m not giving them as much attention as they deserve, which causes me to work extra hard and put in the extra hours to make the extra time to dedicate to each one.
And away from work, we went away on holiday a few weeks ago. It wasn’t a big holiday, we like to call it our secondary holiday – a cheap and cheerful week in the South Wales countryside. We’ll do a bigger, better, “sun, sea, and sand” holiday in a few months time, which will be our primary holiday for the year.
We had a really good time though, I love doing countryside holidays as I get to take my dogs with us and spend some quality time with them in giant parks, fields and beaches just having a blast. And originally being a South Wales starlet myself, and being damn proud of that fact, I also love any chance I get to head back to home soil.
And after quite a few trips to South Wales in the past couple of years that I’ve dragged J along to, he has finally agreed with me that South Wales has by far the prettiest female population around. Everywhere you go, gorgeous and beautiful girls everywhere. I always stood by the fact that Wales was full of the pretty people of the world, but J was never truly convinced. Despite the fact that’s where I come from, surely he wouldn’t need any more proof than that!! LOL. But he had to agree this time as I pointed out every pretty girl we saw on our trip, and there was no denying that I pointed out a lot of girls!
It always reminded me of one of my Dad’s favourite quotes – my dad being a stout northern Englishman who met my stunning and beautiful (and Welsh) mother whilst he was working in Wales nearly 30 years ago. He always used to say in an absolutely awful put-on Welsh accent, “They sure make them pretty in the valleys!” It was a joke at my mum’s expense really, as she has a really thick but natural Welsh accent. I’m somewhere in between if anybody was wondering, I have a noticeable but slight Welsh twang left in my otherwise accent-less voice.
Anyway, I just wanted to check in with everybody to say hello, and assure you all that I’m still alive and kicking! I’m going to go hit the books hard for a few weeks now and hopefully pass my exam and put myself back firmly on the path of becoming a financial whiz on the way to earning the big bucks.
So I’ll speak to you all again in the first couple of weeks of June! Hopefully in a positive “my exam went well” type of mood!
Lots of love and kisses
Your faithful Blogslut xx
It’s been a while since you heard from me, I know, and I am truly sorry. Thanks for all the e-mails asking where I was and if I was okay etc. It makes me realise that you do care! Lol
I’m back in study mode at the moment, as I try once again to be the hottest and sexiest college chick around and pick up my accountancy studies again after an 18 month break. I really haven’t done as much work as I should have though, especially with my exam less than two weeks away. To indicate how little work I have actually done, I’m taking a paper on corporate and business LAW, but up until a week ago, I thought it was corporate and business TAX that my paper was on! I think that really shows how unprepared I am, and also the fact that my study text books were still in their original cellophane wrapping until just days ago!
I think I may have to pull out the big guns for this one. With the exam format being that the passing mark changes depending on how well everybody does, if lots of people get high marks, the pass mark may be 60%, if most people do poorly, the pass mark could be 50%. So it gets me thinking, how few clothes would I have to wear to my exam to distract everybody enough that they all do so poorly that I can scrape a pass having not particularly studied at all? Oh, life’s big questions, how you torture me so!
I’ve been incredibly busy lately even without study though. I’m a bit of a go-to-girl at work when it comes to problem solving projects. It’s like the other side of me that often gets overlooked in this blog. I overlook my super intelligence and brilliance in favour of my sluttiness! LOL. But in all seriousness, at work I often get given the problem projects or tasks, with the reasoning being that I love a challenge to sink my teeth into, and I’m pretty good at getting to the bottom of things, solving the problems, and creating new checks and procedures that help prevent them from becoming a problem again. I think I’m so good at it due to my determination and abilities combined with my friendly, flirty nature. I find it’s a lot easier to solve problems when you have the type of personality that encourages people to want to help you, and I feel I have that. It almost feels like I’m in a work performance review here instead of writing a blog! Lol. So I spend a lot of time at work getting things handed over to me to work on, and then handing things back over when I’ve done what I need to do on them. The problem with this is when the crossovers become a bit tight, I get handed a new thing to do on the assumption that something else is winding down and is ready to be handed back over to somebody else, but if there are any delays, I end up hanging onto things for a month or so extra, and suddenly my workload is incredibly full and I have too many balls to juggle.
I like to liken it to an orgy – once you get more than three guys in there, suddenly I run out of places to put them! LOL
So, to sum it up, currently at work I have a few too many guys, I’ve ran out of places to put them, and they’re all feeling a little neglected that I’m not giving them as much attention as they deserve, which causes me to work extra hard and put in the extra hours to make the extra time to dedicate to each one.
And away from work, we went away on holiday a few weeks ago. It wasn’t a big holiday, we like to call it our secondary holiday – a cheap and cheerful week in the South Wales countryside. We’ll do a bigger, better, “sun, sea, and sand” holiday in a few months time, which will be our primary holiday for the year.
We had a really good time though, I love doing countryside holidays as I get to take my dogs with us and spend some quality time with them in giant parks, fields and beaches just having a blast. And originally being a South Wales starlet myself, and being damn proud of that fact, I also love any chance I get to head back to home soil.
And after quite a few trips to South Wales in the past couple of years that I’ve dragged J along to, he has finally agreed with me that South Wales has by far the prettiest female population around. Everywhere you go, gorgeous and beautiful girls everywhere. I always stood by the fact that Wales was full of the pretty people of the world, but J was never truly convinced. Despite the fact that’s where I come from, surely he wouldn’t need any more proof than that!! LOL. But he had to agree this time as I pointed out every pretty girl we saw on our trip, and there was no denying that I pointed out a lot of girls!
It always reminded me of one of my Dad’s favourite quotes – my dad being a stout northern Englishman who met my stunning and beautiful (and Welsh) mother whilst he was working in Wales nearly 30 years ago. He always used to say in an absolutely awful put-on Welsh accent, “They sure make them pretty in the valleys!” It was a joke at my mum’s expense really, as she has a really thick but natural Welsh accent. I’m somewhere in between if anybody was wondering, I have a noticeable but slight Welsh twang left in my otherwise accent-less voice.
Anyway, I just wanted to check in with everybody to say hello, and assure you all that I’m still alive and kicking! I’m going to go hit the books hard for a few weeks now and hopefully pass my exam and put myself back firmly on the path of becoming a financial whiz on the way to earning the big bucks.
So I’ll speak to you all again in the first couple of weeks of June! Hopefully in a positive “my exam went well” type of mood!
Lots of love and kisses
Your faithful Blogslut xx
Tuesday, 18 March 2008
What exactly is 24/7...
So we got through our first week living together without killing each other – that’s gotta be a good thing, don’t you think?
To be honest I think J’s found it harder adjusting to living with my two dogs than he has to living with me – but hey, we’re a package deal, so he’ll have to get used to it! They’re not big dogs, just small ones, but one’s a grumpy old soul that I got from an animal shelter 4 years ago – he really is grumpy, he lies around and grumbles to himself most of the time – and the other one is nearly 6 months old, so she’s still in her mad puppy phase and loves sprinting around aimlessly and trying to chew on peoples noses. Lol.
Anyway, moving in with J got me thinking about the whole 24/7 D/s thing, and what it really means. Several people have commented to me about moving in together helping to develop the 24/7 aspect of our relationship, and I wonder if some people, especially those not heavily involved in “the scene” really understand what that means.
I must admit, 5-7 years ago, when I was a real bdsm newbie, I didn’t understand what it meant. I thought 24/7 meant slave. Walk around all day with a collar and chain, doing all the chores and any other task requested, completely losing yourself and your identity in the process. (Not saying that’s a bad thing if that’s what you’re into or what you want!!).
And on one hand, I guess it is.
However, I’d like to think that on some level, and to some degree, I’m a 24/7 submissive, and that’s not me at all. So there must be a different side to it.
And I think there is – when I dress in the morning, I dress with J’s approval in mind, this is one part of our relationship that has and will be improved by the living situation, as now I can actually get his approval almost every day. And I like doing little random things throughout the day to please him or bring a smile to his face, or just make his life easier, whether it be making him some lunch, tidying something up so it doesn’t get in his way, or just fluffing his pillow before he gets into bed to make it more comfortable for him. These little things show that I’m always in submissive mode in one form or another, which I think makes me a little bit 24/7, even if I’m not always on my knees with my head bowed down awaiting my next order.
Having said all of that, what I have found, not only since I moved in, but before that during our 18 months together, is that I’m not expected to be a doormat and to do everything all the time. J loves to cook, he likes doing his share of cooking the evening meals, and he’ll even bring me a delicious breakfast in bed sometimes, for no reason whatsoever. He even washes the dishes, or cleans the oven, and the various other horrible tasks that life thrusts upon us.
I’m not a house-slave, and our relationship is on a fairly even keel on things like this. Does this mean we’re not 24/7, or does it mean we’re a new kind of 24/7? Or does it just mean we’re a couple of crazy kids in love, who want to make the other happy, no matter what type of relationship we’re in, but we just so happen to be a D/s couple?
It just begs the question, what is 24/7, or is there even a definition for it? Or maybe we shouldn’t try and pigeon-hole ourselves and just be the best person we can be – be ourselves, be unique, be original!!
That’s all from me for today, except for reminding you all that we are contactable by e-mail as well as through our blog comments etc, so if anyone wants to drop either myself, J, or both of us a line, just to say hello, make a private comment, or just to chat about common interests etc, then please feel free, the address is blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk
Bye for now, take care. Blogslut xx
To be honest I think J’s found it harder adjusting to living with my two dogs than he has to living with me – but hey, we’re a package deal, so he’ll have to get used to it! They’re not big dogs, just small ones, but one’s a grumpy old soul that I got from an animal shelter 4 years ago – he really is grumpy, he lies around and grumbles to himself most of the time – and the other one is nearly 6 months old, so she’s still in her mad puppy phase and loves sprinting around aimlessly and trying to chew on peoples noses. Lol.
Anyway, moving in with J got me thinking about the whole 24/7 D/s thing, and what it really means. Several people have commented to me about moving in together helping to develop the 24/7 aspect of our relationship, and I wonder if some people, especially those not heavily involved in “the scene” really understand what that means.
I must admit, 5-7 years ago, when I was a real bdsm newbie, I didn’t understand what it meant. I thought 24/7 meant slave. Walk around all day with a collar and chain, doing all the chores and any other task requested, completely losing yourself and your identity in the process. (Not saying that’s a bad thing if that’s what you’re into or what you want!!).
And on one hand, I guess it is.
However, I’d like to think that on some level, and to some degree, I’m a 24/7 submissive, and that’s not me at all. So there must be a different side to it.
And I think there is – when I dress in the morning, I dress with J’s approval in mind, this is one part of our relationship that has and will be improved by the living situation, as now I can actually get his approval almost every day. And I like doing little random things throughout the day to please him or bring a smile to his face, or just make his life easier, whether it be making him some lunch, tidying something up so it doesn’t get in his way, or just fluffing his pillow before he gets into bed to make it more comfortable for him. These little things show that I’m always in submissive mode in one form or another, which I think makes me a little bit 24/7, even if I’m not always on my knees with my head bowed down awaiting my next order.
Having said all of that, what I have found, not only since I moved in, but before that during our 18 months together, is that I’m not expected to be a doormat and to do everything all the time. J loves to cook, he likes doing his share of cooking the evening meals, and he’ll even bring me a delicious breakfast in bed sometimes, for no reason whatsoever. He even washes the dishes, or cleans the oven, and the various other horrible tasks that life thrusts upon us.
I’m not a house-slave, and our relationship is on a fairly even keel on things like this. Does this mean we’re not 24/7, or does it mean we’re a new kind of 24/7? Or does it just mean we’re a couple of crazy kids in love, who want to make the other happy, no matter what type of relationship we’re in, but we just so happen to be a D/s couple?
It just begs the question, what is 24/7, or is there even a definition for it? Or maybe we shouldn’t try and pigeon-hole ourselves and just be the best person we can be – be ourselves, be unique, be original!!
That’s all from me for today, except for reminding you all that we are contactable by e-mail as well as through our blog comments etc, so if anyone wants to drop either myself, J, or both of us a line, just to say hello, make a private comment, or just to chat about common interests etc, then please feel free, the address is blogslut13@yahoo.co.uk
Bye for now, take care. Blogslut xx
Friday, 29 February 2008
Moving In...
It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I do apologise to everybody – but what a hectic few months it’s been. Mainly work really, at one point I worked 24 days straight, including weekends. Very tiring – but I accrued a lot of extra holiday days, so definitely planning to take it easy with a nice relaxing week or two off soon.
And out of everything that seems bad, most of the time something good comes out of it, and this was no different. As he barely saw me for the best part of a month, Master J finally decided that he really did miss me when he couldn’t see me for several days at a time, and also decided that he’d be happier if we had more time together. The result of those decisions was… dum dum dum… he asked me to move in with him! :-D
Does the big smiley face give away that I may be a little bit happy about it? Lol
Well I am, no question about that. In fact, I’ve been trying to drop him tiny hints about it for quite a few months now.
I am also scared of course. But I was thinking about that, as my mind went a thousand miles a minute wondering if our D/s relationship could be ruined by the monotonous routines of day to day living together, and I realised that at the end of the day it’s no more scary than any other relationship. Every relationship I’ve ever been in was scary, whether it be D/s or “vanilla”, and I was scared the last time, and only other time, that I moved in with a guy. That was a regular relationship, but I had all the same feelings and questions. Will living together take the spark away? Will we survive the 24/7 life? Will I be able to hide all my crazy from him if we’re in the same house? And all the other questions that come with moving in together.
Is it any different because it’s a D/s relationship? I really don’t know, it possibly has more implications on certain levels, but I think J and myself are comfortable with each other in normal situations as well as D/s situations, so I’d like to think not. In fact I’d like to think it will give us a lot more opportunities to evolve our relationship and become closer. And maybe it will even give me a chance and the situations to evolve the submissive side of myself.
Anyway, time will tell, it’s been a few weeks since he asked and I accepted now, but I wanted to find a replacement in my current place first so as not to leave my current house-mate in the lurch with rent to pay and nobody to share the burden with. But we’ve found someone to take my room now, so I’m all set to move in with J next weekend.
Wish me luck, there’s no turning back now! Lol
And out of everything that seems bad, most of the time something good comes out of it, and this was no different. As he barely saw me for the best part of a month, Master J finally decided that he really did miss me when he couldn’t see me for several days at a time, and also decided that he’d be happier if we had more time together. The result of those decisions was… dum dum dum… he asked me to move in with him! :-D
Does the big smiley face give away that I may be a little bit happy about it? Lol
Well I am, no question about that. In fact, I’ve been trying to drop him tiny hints about it for quite a few months now.
I am also scared of course. But I was thinking about that, as my mind went a thousand miles a minute wondering if our D/s relationship could be ruined by the monotonous routines of day to day living together, and I realised that at the end of the day it’s no more scary than any other relationship. Every relationship I’ve ever been in was scary, whether it be D/s or “vanilla”, and I was scared the last time, and only other time, that I moved in with a guy. That was a regular relationship, but I had all the same feelings and questions. Will living together take the spark away? Will we survive the 24/7 life? Will I be able to hide all my crazy from him if we’re in the same house? And all the other questions that come with moving in together.
Is it any different because it’s a D/s relationship? I really don’t know, it possibly has more implications on certain levels, but I think J and myself are comfortable with each other in normal situations as well as D/s situations, so I’d like to think not. In fact I’d like to think it will give us a lot more opportunities to evolve our relationship and become closer. And maybe it will even give me a chance and the situations to evolve the submissive side of myself.
Anyway, time will tell, it’s been a few weeks since he asked and I accepted now, but I wanted to find a replacement in my current place first so as not to leave my current house-mate in the lurch with rent to pay and nobody to share the burden with. But we’ve found someone to take my room now, so I’m all set to move in with J next weekend.
Wish me luck, there’s no turning back now! Lol
Monday, 3 September 2007
Randomness
I’m fast approaching being a part of the blogging community for about 16 weeks now, and this will only be my 7th blog. So much for my regular blogging schedule, shame on me!!
Well to catch you all up with me as I haven’t been around for a while.
You may remember a couple of months back I wrote a blog entry called “exam fever” as I was in the middle of my exams. Well, I got my results a week or so ago and I passed!! Yay me! I’m all done with study for the time being now, until I decide to further myself again!
Not much else has happened in the past month or so. Been very busy with dull, dull work! Very over-worked at the moment due to a general hectic work schedule in general, and work piling in, people leaving so temporary handovers taking place, which means even more work piling in. For those who don’t know… I’m a part qualified accountant. Yep, now you all realise why my work is dull!
But in all seriousness, at times I do really enjoy what I do, and I love the mental challenges it brings, especially when things turn out well and all my hard work has paid off and I can see the positive results. But it gets tiresome sometimes, with office politics and the long hours that I don’t get paid for, and the feeling of being overworked and under-appreciated.
It makes me wonder, and I’ve been thinking a bit about this lately, would I just be better off and more satisfied on a personal level if I were to pack in the life of an office worker and go back to the floaty life of waitressing and bar work??
They both have the positive and negative points.
For waitressing, it’s shift work, which can be annoying, but also good. It’s also a lot of evenings, which is also on the fence as it loses my evenings but gains me my daytimes. But I love the interaction with people, the opportunities to be a bit flirty, the sexier outfits (sometimes, when a uniform isn’t worn) etc. I don’t like the uncertainty over hours that I used to get sometimes, where I may work 40 hours one week and only 30 the next. I certainly don’t like the way it doesn’t even really cover my bills even with the higher hours though!!
As for my office life as an accountant, I work similar hours to J, so we get to spend more time together. I quite like the routine of 9-5, not having to an evening one day and an afternoon the next, which messes with my body clock. I like the sexy-smart professional look I have to try to achieve. I don’t like the increased stress or the overly hard work. But I do like the money, which is more than double my old waitressing / barwork salary, and is nice and even, the same amount every month. And perhaps more than anything else, I like having the chance to use my brain, to show my intelligence and to be challenged from an intellectual point of view.
I probably don’t need anybody to answer this for me, I’m going to choose the position of status and financial well-being 99 times out of 100. It’s what I’ve worked for throughout the last 5+ years. But I just can’t help feel that sometimes I think I like myself better, even if just a little, when I’m not in the full-time hustle bustle of the 9-5 office job!
Anyway, that’s enough of my rant for today. Going to try and keep on top of my blog from now on. Maybe I’ll post more shorter entries with the occasional longer entry in order to keep the flow. It’s quite hard to write every few days when you write as much as I often do in these blogs!!
Bye for now, see you all again very soon! :-)
Blogslut xx
Well to catch you all up with me as I haven’t been around for a while.
You may remember a couple of months back I wrote a blog entry called “exam fever” as I was in the middle of my exams. Well, I got my results a week or so ago and I passed!! Yay me! I’m all done with study for the time being now, until I decide to further myself again!
Not much else has happened in the past month or so. Been very busy with dull, dull work! Very over-worked at the moment due to a general hectic work schedule in general, and work piling in, people leaving so temporary handovers taking place, which means even more work piling in. For those who don’t know… I’m a part qualified accountant. Yep, now you all realise why my work is dull!
But in all seriousness, at times I do really enjoy what I do, and I love the mental challenges it brings, especially when things turn out well and all my hard work has paid off and I can see the positive results. But it gets tiresome sometimes, with office politics and the long hours that I don’t get paid for, and the feeling of being overworked and under-appreciated.
It makes me wonder, and I’ve been thinking a bit about this lately, would I just be better off and more satisfied on a personal level if I were to pack in the life of an office worker and go back to the floaty life of waitressing and bar work??
They both have the positive and negative points.
For waitressing, it’s shift work, which can be annoying, but also good. It’s also a lot of evenings, which is also on the fence as it loses my evenings but gains me my daytimes. But I love the interaction with people, the opportunities to be a bit flirty, the sexier outfits (sometimes, when a uniform isn’t worn) etc. I don’t like the uncertainty over hours that I used to get sometimes, where I may work 40 hours one week and only 30 the next. I certainly don’t like the way it doesn’t even really cover my bills even with the higher hours though!!
As for my office life as an accountant, I work similar hours to J, so we get to spend more time together. I quite like the routine of 9-5, not having to an evening one day and an afternoon the next, which messes with my body clock. I like the sexy-smart professional look I have to try to achieve. I don’t like the increased stress or the overly hard work. But I do like the money, which is more than double my old waitressing / barwork salary, and is nice and even, the same amount every month. And perhaps more than anything else, I like having the chance to use my brain, to show my intelligence and to be challenged from an intellectual point of view.
I probably don’t need anybody to answer this for me, I’m going to choose the position of status and financial well-being 99 times out of 100. It’s what I’ve worked for throughout the last 5+ years. But I just can’t help feel that sometimes I think I like myself better, even if just a little, when I’m not in the full-time hustle bustle of the 9-5 office job!
Anyway, that’s enough of my rant for today. Going to try and keep on top of my blog from now on. Maybe I’ll post more shorter entries with the occasional longer entry in order to keep the flow. It’s quite hard to write every few days when you write as much as I often do in these blogs!!
Bye for now, see you all again very soon! :-)
Blogslut xx
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