Yesterday’s play, and my strange paradox
Well, one of them, anyway. I have many, I guess.
Steve and I had a lovely visit. If you were to see us together at first, you’d think we were just a couple of old pals getting together to catch up. We sit side by side on my couch and we take turns talking about the past week, about our relationships and life situations. Sometimes we’re quite serious. And then, after a while, something shifts, Steve gets that look on his face, and I know it’s time. Seamlessly, we transition into play mode.
As we begin to play, more transitions happen. Before my endorphins kick in, I struggle with the pain as it explodes into my senses, despite the slow buildup. I squirm and twist my feet together and mash my face into the pillow, reminding myself to breathe. “Squirm all you want,” he’ll say. Then it changes — the overwhelming burn morphs into a glow, and instead of wanting to shy away from the impact, I raise my body to meet it. Steve, ever reading my body language, knows when it happens and that he can ramp things up.
Yesterday’s round two was simple, just three implements. Three distinct sensations (crop, wooden paddle, Lexan paddle). I didn’t need to do or say anything; we had no roles or fake issues we were acting out. I didn’t sass. It was all about sensation and connection this time. Maybe not as amusing to read about, but intense just the same.
Then there’s the picture-taking. And that’s when the paradox comes in. My exhibitionism vs. my discomfort with graphic shots.
It’s no secret that I like having sexy pictures taken of me. But when they veer into the graphically sexUAL, I shut down. I wonder why that is. I’m not a prude. I don’t have issues about bodies, male or female. But for me, photos are sexier and more attractive when things are left to the imagination. I am not comfortable with displays of graphic nudity from people I don’t know. And I’m not comfortable with my own display of them, either. When it comes to professional videos, and the photos/screen shots taken from them, I have to accept that the “money shots” will be plentiful. But with my own stuff? I don’t reveal. I tease, I provoke, but I don’t stick it in your face. Why? I don’t know. As I’d mentioned in a previous blog, I’ve appeared fully naked on video only once in sixteen years. And the purpose of that was not to be sexy per se, but to say “fuck you; this is what fifty looks like” to the world of ageists.
Yesterday, at the peak of our scene as I lay over the pillows on my bed, Steve opened the nightstand drawer, retrieved my vibrator and handed it to me. Face down, oblivious to everything around me, I then proceeded to give myself three orgasms while he watched. And took pictures.
Steve takes two kinds of pictures; the ones for me, that I’ll use for my blog, for FetLife, etc. And then the ones he says are “just for him.” The last thing he does before he leaves is copy the day’s photos from his camera onto my computer. And after he’s gone, the first thing I do is go through them — and immediately delete the graphic ones. I don’t like them. He thinks they’re beautiful. But they make me squirm. Why would I want to look at a close-up shot of myself masturbating? (Rhetorical question, folks. You don’t have to answer.) I think naked bodies can be beautiful… but I don’t think genitalia are in and of themselves all that attractive, especially close up. Who knows… it’s a strange paradox, and a weird disconnect. I suppose it’s along the same lines of how I love to be spanked in front of other people, but I don’t want to have sex in front of other people.
Yeah, I know. I’ve talked about this before. But every now and then, I feel the need to explain myself. Maybe because some may think I’m a hypocrite, because I post provocative photos, but don’t care for theirs. I guess, for me, it’s about the level of provocation, and how much intimacy is revealed to strangers.
Am I making any @#$%ing sense, or does it all sound like a big confused rationale? Meh.
Anyway… true to form, here are non-graphic shots from yesterday.
And flash off:
And as usual, the camera didn’t pick up the redness very well. You’ll just have to take my word for it.
Back to work for me. Happy Hump Day. And, according to Twitter, Happy #NationalChocolateCakeDay. (Of course, for me, every day is #NationalChocolateCakeDay.)