Dear Ageism: You can GFY

Can we all agree that Halle Berry is one of the most stunningly beautiful women on the planet? The other day, she posted this gorgeous and tastefully sexy picture on Twitter. She is 56 years old.

Kudos to her. And then some asshole retweeted the picture and wrote this:

Imagine being in your 50s and still posting nudes for attention in menopause when you should be chilling with the grandkids. Aging with dignity is no longer a thing.

Oh. My. God.

This cretin was actually age/body shaming Halle Freaking Berry?? I saw red. A lot of other people did too.

Soooo… once we pass “a certain age,” all we’re good for is sitting around playing Dot to Dot with our age spots and singing “How Dry I Am”? We’re demoted from Woman to Grandma?

Well, y’all know me and how I feel on this subject, kids. I just had to make a statement. So I retweeted his tweet and wrote:

On behalf of all women in their 50s and beyond who refuse to sit in a rocker and knit socks, who think women are more than baby factories, who thumb their noses at ageing and ageism from people like you, I’ve got a special message for you.

And of course, I accompanied it with this picture:

That was yesterday, but the likes and retweets are still coming. 😀 Got some new followers too.

Put that in your Metamucil and shove it. 😛

To Bare or Not to Bare: Boobs, That is

This one is geared toward female bottoms, as you could probably tell by the title. But tops are welcome to chime in about their preferences as well. I know I’ve talked about this subject before, but it’s been a long time and I think it’s worth revisiting.

Thanks to Hermione’s Spanko Brunch post, I joined Spanking Needs last week. So far, I am liking it. It seems to be well managed, reasonably simple to navigate, and people have been nice and welcoming so far. I’ve gotten several messages, and all have been respectful.

One local man and I exchanged several messages, and were getting very close to making a coffee date. Then he said that he’d noticed, in all the video snippets he’d watched of me, that I always kept my upper half clothed. Was there a reason for that? Modesty?

This is true. With a single exception, I have not bared my breasts in any of my videos, not in eighteen years. Oftentimes I was down to lingerie, but I always kept the bra on.

I wrote back and told him my personal opinion — that unless the video is depicting husband/wife or lovers, full nudity seems gratuitous to me. After all, he’s not spanking my boobs. The focus is on my butt.

He then said that he has spanked nipples (shudder), but admitted that’s more BDSM-oriented. Then he confessed that he enjoys watching a woman’s breasts sway and bounce while she’s over his knee. Said he would never force that on anyone, though. (But yeah, clearly, that’s what he’d prefer, right? Why even bring it up otherwise?)

Crap.

I’m not a prude. I’m not ashamed of my body. There is nothing wrong with my breasts. They’re small. They’re still perky. I have posted naked pictures of myself on FetLife. Although that one time I posted what I thought was a sultry bare-breasted picture, some idiot’s comment was “You should smile.” Really? That’s what you’re focusing on?? I took that one down.

I have played unclothed with close play partners. My former top of 4+ years used to strip me naked outdoors in broad daylight, for heaven’s sake. (And I have the pictures to prove it.) Another one tied me down naked to my coffee table. But I knew these men very well. However, casual play with friends? Party scenes? With the exception of the occasional full-body flogging, I keep my top on.

I suppose stripping a female bottom fully nude adds to the embarrassment/vulnerability, and people like that, or love to hate it. But I just don’t care for it.

I am curious — granted, I know a lot of my readers are married and play with their husbands only, so of course y’all play naked. But for those who play more casually, who engage in party play, play with groups of friends, etc., how do you feel about full nudity while being spanked? Do you feel like that fits well into your scene dynamics/fantasies? Or does it make you feel uncomfortable?

And a side note: No matter what my state of undress is, I think it’s hottest when the top remains fully clothed. Any thoughts on that?

Back to the man on SN for a moment. I replied that he might be disappointed with me, if this is what he enjoyed doing, so perhaps we should reconsidering meeting. Much to my surprise, he wrote back, saying yes, he enjoys it, but it’s hardly a deal-breaker. That he’s a spanko, and enjoys spanking woman of all types and in all stages of dress. And that having coffee with me would be an honor.

Well. That’s nice. ♥ We’ll see what happens next week.

So, let me hear from you: Boobs or no boobs? Have a great weekend, y’all.

So far, so good, I think?

My welcome back to the blogosphere has been gratifying. I’ve gotten some lovely comments and also some very sweet PMs. It does feel good to have this special place that’s all my own. Social media sites are fun, but the fun can be fleeting. Your posts on FetLife are popular for a day or two and then quickly forgotten. It’s nothing personal and it’s no one’s fault; it’s just a sign of the times, the way things are now in the age of digital distraction. People at any given moment can be carrying on fifteen conversations at once via texts and so forth and concentration is a lost art. Same thing with Twitter. Getting focus on there is a crap shoot, a matter of timing. Some days you can tweet something completely silly and it explodes into myriad conversations. Other days, you could post, “Hey, that hemorrhoid turned out to be Stage 4 cancer and I have six days to live,” and get crickets.

It seems my post about depression resonated with many. I suppose that could be a direction for me in the future — relating to spankos with depression and how to cope. Because depression is the antithesis of spanking fun, you know. When I’m in play mode, I feel sexy and happy and alive, filled with energy, clever, creative, on top of my game. Depression sucks all that away and leaves a shell that looks somewhat like me. And the damnable contradiction is that when I need attention the most, I feel the least attractive. My outsides are saying “Go away” while my insides cry “Please don’t go away.”

So I look at pictures, old and recent, and remember, “Hey! You are capable of this. Look at that smile. Look at that thrust-out confident butt. That woman is still in there.”

I remember that no matter how unlovable I feel, I must be doing something right. Yesterday, John said to me: “I would take you on your worst day over anyone else on their best day.” Somehow, I brought that to myself. Always there, John is. No matter who else comes and goes. ♥

Don’t watch the news when you’re down. And for God’s sake, don’t listen to music. You never notice how many depressing songs there are until you’re depressed yourself.

Sing it, John.

Or how about, “She aches, just like a woman, but she breaks just like a little girl.”

Yeah, I chose this picture on purpose. It captures my mood… but it also reminds me that I’m still a damn desirable woman, no matter what my screwy head tells me.

Anyway, y’all, I’ve got work to do, and a body to work out. Happy Monday.

Time for another road trip!

Much as I prefer to remain indoors, Steve loves the outdoors. And I must admit, when he coaxes me outside on occasion for our little trips, we do have fun. He knows some very pretty places and he had spent some time researching somewhere we could go that was a bit secluded. Plus, although the sun was shining brightly and the sky was pure blue, it was in the 50s yesterday, so he figured not a lot of people would be out and about on the particular trail he’d chosen.

He picked me up yesterday about 10:45; I wore jeans, sneakers and a sweater, and carried a hoodie (inside which I’d wrapped two small implements, by his request). We had a nice drive up Topanga Canyon, which led us to a winding road we took for several miles and put us deep into the Santa Monica mountains, overlooking the ocean. We parked, and hiked up a short trail, maybe a half-mile or so. A lot of it was on an incline, so it was a mini-workout. I was grateful for my hoodie, because the cold was pretty biting. But it was worth it when we reached the top. Such incredible views!

The above doesn’t do justice to the blue of the sky. There was also a bizarre circling of stones, which I guess had some sort of spiritual meaning to it. So I struck what I thought was a spiritual pose.

Unfortunately when we first got there, there were a few people. First there were two women who were taking pictures, and then they left, only to be replaced by two more women. We waited and waited, taking vanilla photos and drinking in the view, until they left as well. Then Steve led me off into the bushes, on a very narrow path that ended at a sharp drop. We stopped there… and he told me to take off all my clothes.

Y’know, it’s not like I was surprised by this — I mean, he’d told me that’s what he envisioned when we went on this hike. Part of me wanted to do it, but the other part was screaming, “Wha?? What if someone comes? It’s freezing! This is too risky! I don’t wanna!” But yeah, I kinda did. My exhibitionist side was nudging the worry-wart side out of the way.

My first shock was when I took off my shoes and socks. The dirt path was covered with small stones and bits of branches, and they cut into my feet! Steve, although he’d thought of pretty much everything, had not brought a blanket or a towel. Argh. So I pussy-footed around, trying not to injure myself as I stripped. He took a few shots while I was still in my underwear — I kind of like the attitude in this one. 🙂

But of course, the underwear had to go too. Shivering and exhilarated and scared to death all at the same time, I struck poses.

Of course, we had to have a spanking-themed shot, so everyone could see that the top was fully clothed! (eye roll) And really, could I be any whiter?

(Yes, I have a spine curvature. But I guess most people aren’t focusing on that. Hope not, anyway.)

But then Steve, who was constantly keeping a lookout toward the opening into the bushes, hissed, “Someone’s coming!” Oh my God. I freaked out, snatching at my clothes, fumbling with them as I put them on, my hands shaking. “Where are my panties?” I screeched, not seeing them. “Shhhhh,” he said, indicating them on top of my pile of clothes, and I hurriedly stepped into them, then yanking on my jeans and my sweater over my head. “Deep breaths,” Steve reminded me. I braced myself against him as he helped me put my socks and shoes back on, then he went to look again. “Sorry, babe,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you. He went the other way.”

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My nerves snapped and I actually wept. Don’t get me wrong; I loved what we did and I would do it again. But sometimes, this risky fun stuff is nerve-racking! Fortunately, both Steve and John know I get freaked out about stuff (John calls me his panic bunny), and they take it in stride. Once we walked out of the bushes, sat on a bench and I drank a little water, I was fine, and back to good spirits once we started the hike back to the car.

Driving back, the views were so spectacular, we pulled over a couple of times to take more pictures. I took this one with my cell — I think my crappy little phone camera actually captured the blue of the sky better than Steve’s fancy one with all the bells and whistles!

Anyway. That was lovely. And now I can stay inside for the rest of 2016. 😀

Steve got me home around 1:30, and I was able to work all afternoon until it was time to meet Alex and SpankCake for dinner. We hadn’t had one of our nights out since mid-December, so we were overdue. It seems 2016 is starting well for all of us: John’s health is better so I’m not as stressed, Alex is engaged (squeeeeee! so exciting!), and SC has a new job and a great new top. We made all sorts of naughty plans for our time in Vegas at the end of the month. Can’t wait!!

But for now, it’s back to work with me.

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.

Flash on:

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.)

So it’s come to this…

I have nothing to say. Work is slow, life is slow, nothing exciting coming up, slogging through holiday sludge for the next few weeks. Complete writer’s block. How sad.

I guess I could change the name of this blog to “Life, Love, Spanking and Utterly Boring Minutiae.” But that’s no fun to read.

I could find something to rant about, but honestly, I don’t feel like it. Too much negativity around lately.

So, when at a loss, the only thing left to do is post nekkid pictures.

So here you go — me, with the other John I love watching over me. 🙂

Have a great weekend, y’all.