Up, Down and Sideways

I have no idea how I feel today - at any given moment I am seconds from either tears or laughter. K is just plain miserable - i got 15 texts in 12 hours from him over Saturday night/Sunday morning. I am giving him some support, but I need to keep back some energy for me. I miss - if not him - then the security of a relationship, of a future. And of all things, I'm mourning the lack of holidays - 10 wasted years with him - what was it for?

Then there's D. He's been elusive, to say the least. Over the Easter weekend, his wife accused him of having an affair - obviously he denied everything. Apparently his 'performance' takes a while to recover after I've finished with him. Also I'm sure there's more to it that he hasn't said. So, due to my schedule and his, it was only accidental that we ended up in the same place last week, and he has declined a possible opportunity this week. He mentioned a chance the week after, and I was ambivalent. I'm currently feeling rather like an unpaid prostitute, on the basis that, as we all know, they are paid not for sex but for going away afterwards.

I want to crawl under the duvet and hide away, but I can't even close the curtains in the living room, til I've finished painting and put them up again. Its taken 5.5 days just to strip off all the bloody woodchip wallpaper, and there seems a mile of glossing to do. Sigh. On the day he left, I told K that I intended to start decorating. He looked around and admitted that we could have done it together years ago. Then he hit me with, "You should have nagged more." Sheesh - and they say there's no pleasing women - shame he didn't appreciate my numerous wonderful qualities when he had the chance.

Happy Easter

Its been a good one - spent entirely on my own, but in the company of beer, chocolate, the radio and about 30 square metres of peach-coloured woodchip wallpaper to strip. Doing the latter is quite cathartic - not my favourite distraction, but therapeutic nevertheless.

Of course I did have to drag myself away from a pornucopia of web-based smut this morning. The essential finale to this was a wank, sitting on the floor in the living room with my nose pressed to the window, knees spread wide. My breasts were pressed up against a warm radiator below, which in turn hid my blushes from passers-by, of which there were few, due to the inclement weather. Pity.

 

Six word memoir

I've arrived - I've been tagged, thanks to Akrazael. My six word memoir is:
Passionate about life, music and independence.

The rules are:
1. Write your own six word memoir
2. Post it on your blog and include a visual illustration if you’d like
3. Link to the person that tagged you in your post and to this original post if possible, so we can track it as it travels across the blogosphere
4. Tag five more blogs with links
5. And don’t forget to leave a comment on the tagged blogs with an invitation to play!

I'm tagging Titus Pepper, Duke Orsino, Ro, Ms R and the Naughty Secretary . Over to you guys.

Freedom

Now that I am officially single, and "of a mind" to play, I am mostly thinking in my spare time about cock. Seeing cock, holding cock, sucking cock, fucking cock. I am mentally running through the cock-owners of my acquaintance and considering the possibilities. I am aware that I could launch myself like an Exocet through their lives, and I should be wary.

There's F, a good friend who put in an early bid when he found out that I might be coming back onto the market - but I am also close to his girlfriend, so that doesn't feel right. There's Y, who so desperately needs a confidence boost, but I really must not go back to giving sympathy shags and really, he needs a full-time girlfriend, not a session with an older woman who will confuse him.

Work in general is already delivering complications enough. Orchestra would deliver my choice in septuagenarians. Hmm... new hunting grounds required?

Meme of the day

As Duke Orsino and Z have given this a go, I thought I'd bounce on the bandwagon...

Greed:	High
Gluttony:	Medium
Wrath:	Medium
Sloth:	Very High
Envy:	Low
Lust:	Very High
Pride:	High

Take the Seven Deadly Sins Quiz

Curry & Chocolate

Last night marked the first hotel-based escapade I've managed with D in a couple of weeks, what with the moving out of K. There have been a couple of car-seat shenanigans, which makes one shake one's head with minor embarassment that all these years further on, you're still acting like a randy teenager. But there's nothing quite like a full-on, mattress-enabled hotel-room fuck to remind you that age has its compensations.

The entrance and egress to the hotel was complicated by the fact that half the senior management team were staying there again, and at some point someone will twig that D & I keep shuffling off to dinner by ourselves. As I pointed out, after a staggered, comedy-routine escape, we were either going to have to pack it in, get a bit smarter at booking hotels or just take out a full-page ad on the company intranet and have done with it. As it was, I had to smuggle out the gift of the chocolate egg he'd bought me, if only because he'd been out at lunchtime and met a colleague who'd stayed with him while he bought it. Eventually we escaped, for a pie & a pint for him, shiraz & curry for me.

But the necessary irritations of the mechanics of work affairs aside, the compensation is the moments of time-arresting pleasure. The countless orgasms are delicious, the novelty of cumming through having my neck kissed, my nipples pinched, helped along with penetrating fingers, tongue and cock is joyful. The memory that sticks with me though is D falling asleep; two fingers still buried deep in my warm wetness, head resting on my breast where his teeth had been teasing my nipples. Pulling him to me, cradling and rocking him to temporary oblivion makes me wistful - that urge to protect, tend and nurture is so strong. I have to remember that like a library book, I'm only borrowing him for a few hours - I have to give him back.

Still, back indoors for the long Easter weekend, I'm embarking on that enterprise that traditionally marks the time of year or the end of a relationship - decorating!

Power

I am a woman in charge - in charge of myself, my space, my sexuality, my time, my attention, my body. Power displayed by men is purportedly an aphrodisiac for women - but I never really grasped my own power over men before. This year has been astonishing, I am newly aware of lines of men desparate to sleep with me. It's amusing, it's astonishing.

I could have them all, I need none of them, I may choose some of them. Casual cruelty could come as easily as warm affection. Why didn't I realise the extent of my power 20 years ago? But perhaps I didn't have it then - time, experience, wrinkles and carefreeness of survival pipping the carelessness of youth and naivity.

My lover jumps when I walk into the office - he finds excuses to talk, to touch, to smell me. He is distracted, infatuated, overwhelmed with lust. And I smile, safe in my power, enjoying every single minute. If we meet this week, excellent. If not, it will wait. I can wait.