Every now and again I see/hear the question “What body part do you love the most?”.  I have a hard time answering this question because I love the lines and shapes of men in general from their back to their calves to the jaw line to their chest. Don’t get me started on a hairy chest… swoon. For me though, the thing I love the most (other than the obvious male member) are a man’s hands.

Are his hands soft of callused? Are his fingers lanky or thick? Are his hand small or large? Are his fingers short or long? Do his hands have subtle or well-defined veins? Are his nails clean, stained, short, or long? These are all details I take in.

There is no perfect set of hands, that I’ve found yet. Each set I look at and take in the details of create an image in my mind of them on my skin, touching, inserting, and dancing about all over me.

The soft, well cared for hands glide with gentleness and care; the weathered, strong, well-worked hands move about with a bit of roughness. Both make me feel cared for, adored, safe, and make me tingle all over.

There is just so much to love about hands.



Twenty-Five Hours

In the last 25 hours I’ve learned of the death of three people. None of them was I particularly close to, but the combination of all three at once has hit a little hard.

Last night I was directed to the obituaries as a high school classmate has passed away. As I saw her sweet face, the same as it looked 20 years ago in school, I read  how she had hung herself in jail. She had long ago gotten into drugs and couldn’t ever seem to get herself out. She was currently in jail in relation to this. We weren’t close friends in school but my class was less than 75 people and we all knew each other. She is, was, 39 years old.

After I’d read the notice of her passing I saw the face I recognized but couldn’t place. I opened up his notice and realized he was someone I’d gone on a date with a few years ago, just the one date. I’d heard of a single vehicle car accident a few days ago in the news but didn’t think much more of it than I do any other vehicular accident – sad for the family they leave behind. He was the single passenger; 39 years old.

Today I was thinking about these two souls, who are the same age as I am, and how any of us could have our time up, or cut short,  at any time. It makes me want to hug my daughter so very tightly. And I will when I get home.

This afternoon I learned of the passing of someone else. This one hit closer to home. While he wasn’t a big part of my life, he was there in a very difficult time. He was my favorite high school teacher, he was a fantastic coach, he was a huge part of our local community, and he had a big, big heart. He helped me through what turned out to be the start of a long ongoing issue with my family. With his guidance, support, and understanding I was able to continue with school and be successful. His loss hits me not necessarily because of the loss but because it brings the memories of that very difficult time and how strong those feelings were. I find myself a bit overwhelmed. He was nearly 80.

It’s a lot inside of 25 hours. I could go for a good, strong adult beverage.


Lately there have been a few things I’ve been reflecting on quite heavily. The most prominent of them being how to shift my thinking to manage expectations of friendships/relationships.

There is one particular friendship/relationship that has had my focus regarding expectations. It is a relatively new relationship, we met in late July, but it is an important one. G is someone I have known peripherally for years but we met in much different circumstance this time and from the moment we stood face to face I knew G was different from most people. G is a soul companion.

I do not believe we have just one soul mate; I believe in various degrees of soul mates. I believe a soul mate is someone who you/I connect with deeply and they play a role in your/my personal development whether it’s platonic, romantic, or sexual. To me, the definition of soul mate is someone who is a friend of your/my soul. For me the degrees of a soul mate are soul friends, soul teachers, and soul companions. I know people who I connect with on a deep level like this are few and far between. I am lucky enough to have 3 such people in my life currently.

G is a soul companion in a platonic, previously sexual, way. I felt it the instant we met. It’s a rush to feel my soul/core pulse and radiate and even more of one when I feel my core recognize this other person’s soul/core. I don’t know if I believe in past lives but with G, it felt as if my soul recognized his. It was instant, electric. When we spoke about it a few weeks later he shared he felt it too and we knew that this friendship/relationship was different. From those first few minutes we were able to freely talk about anything and everything. There was no being scared of sharing our innermost secrets. In the following weeks we shared things with each other that we have not shared with anyone before. It was easy and felt safe. We messaged on and off all day and night. We sent silly snaps on our breaks. We would talk on the phone or Facetime nearly every day. We just clicked…in a way that someone who has been friends for a lifetime click. This is where my struggle and reflection comes in.

He recently started dating a wonderful woman who makes him smile and feel in such a beautiful way. I love this for him, he deserves to feel these wonderful things after what he has been through. I am thrilled to my core for him, honestly, and of course she holds his attention more now. This is where my struggle and reflection comes in.

After they started seeing each other he and I had a sit down talk. We wanted to see how the other was feeling. I had shared a few weeks before that at some point I would feel love for him, not in a romantic sense but in a sense that I love those I care about. As we talked about us, about them, he said “I love you” to me. I knew he meant it in just the way that I meant it. We feel love for each other. This is where my struggle and reflection comes in.

Now I fully realize he and I are not the same person. He and I did not travel the same path to get to where we are now. We have not had the same life experiences. We have not been treated by others in the same way. So while we both feel what we feel right now how we got there is very different. This is where my struggle and reflection comes in.

There is no doubt that I am a giver. I will give and give until I exhaust myself and having nothing left for me. I’ve been working on not doing that to myself for nearly a year now. I’m better at it but still have more work to do. I will bend over backwards, doing a split, with high heels on and balancing a teacup on my head for someone I care about. I say good morning, good night, I check in on someone when they exhibit a different behavior, I send silly snaps to brighten their day. This is where my struggle and reflection comes in.

He has pulled back a bit as his attention is shared with other people in his life, of course. That doesn’t bother me. What has been bothering me is that he has pulled away. We have talked about this. He shared that he has never met anyone like me. That me being so accepting of this new woman and being genuinely happy for him has thrown him for a loop. He feels like I must be acting and not be genuine because what woman would be supportive of the kind of relationship they have when we had the kind of relationship he and I had. I have tried to tell him that I am not like other women. He is learning that about me, after all we haven’t known each other that long. He hasn’t learned that I do genuinely mean what I say. And I am sad. This is where my struggle and reflection comes in.

I’m sad that he doesn’t know that about me. I’m sad that it will take him a long time to learn that about me. I am sad he isn’t like me in recognizing the kind of soul connection which brings me back to we have not traveled the same path, had the same experiences. It’s unfair of me to expect that he would know so quickly like I knew. This is where my struggle and reflection comes in.

My struggle and reflection have been about working on not expecting that someone will do the same for me as I do for them and about feeling the loss of G in a closeness sense even though I haven’t lost him in the greater sense. I don’t necessarily expect that someone will be the same kind of friend to me that I am to them, but I want them to be. And that’s where the rub is. And I am trying to find a way to not have that expectation. It’s taking me longer than I’d like to work through this but at the same time, this is kind of a big something to work through. Patience is another thing I’m working on, ha.

You wanted to know

You wanted to know, you asked… and now I have filled out the About page on this blog.

Essentially, I am a constantly evolving woman. I have been told on many occasions that I am a complicated woman with many layers, that I may enjoy simple things in life but I am far from simple. I have come to accept this about myself.

There are many sides to me and very few get to see more than one or two. I am strong, I am confidant, I believe in polyamory and find myself able to be either poly or monogamous depending on my partner. I have a kinky side. I am too trusting. I am more forgiving than perhaps I should be. I feel empathy deeply and have recently found that I may be a bit of an empath. I am understanding in a way that most people don’t think I am for real. I can be sexually dominant but my soul is that of a submissive woman – it is where I find peace and calm. My submissive self is where I find most all my other sides stem from. I am different from most and I have come to accept that.

This blog started out as another blog, Simply Hopeful, which I felt I needed to abandon after a privacy violation. This is a space for me to get out what I hold inside, a safe place to say whatever I want to say. I enjoy writing and find that typing out the thoughts in my head helps me to organize them and often work through issues that are troubling me. Writing helps me get off the proverbial roller coaster in my mind. I have been through a lot of learning curves and I’m positive there are more to come.

Not a Bucket List, a F*ck-it List

You know how everyone has a “Bucket List”? Well, I call mine a “Live-it List” because I don’t want to have a list that is based on doing things before I die. I want a list that is meant to be enjoyed, sometimes more than once, while I’m alive. I realized when creating my “Live-it List” that I should have a naughty list too. That’s how my “Fuck-it list” came about. I’m always adjusting it as I add new things to try and cross items out.

What’s on your list?

  • Have a threesome
  • Have a moresome
  • Anal sex with a man
  • Anal sex with a woman
  • Suck a cock through a glory-hole
  • Have sex in a glory-hole booth
  • Have sex at least three times in one night/day
  • Have sex with at 2 different people in one day/night
  • Have a remote control vibrator used on me out in public
  • Give a boob job
  • Have a one night stand
  • Get fingered in public
  • Give head in public
  • Sex in the shower
  • Sex in a tent
  • Sex in the woods
  • Sex in the water
  • Sex in an upper floor hotel room while pressed against the window
  • Have a quickie while in a short skirt and then go back about my day
  • Go skinny dipping
  • Have a dirty weekend getaway where we never leave our room
  • Have sex in a car/van
  • Have sex on the hood/trunk of a car
  • Take part in a orgy
  • Get a lapdance at a strip club
  • Have sex so much over a weekend that I am the one to cry “mercy”
  • Wake my partner up by sucking his cock
  • Be tied up and teased so much that I beg to be fucked
  • Tie my partner up and tease him so much he begs to be fucked
  • Blindfold my partner and stimulate him with different materials/toys
  • Be blindfolded and stimulated with different materials/toys
  • Go to a play party
  • Be tied to a bed while my partner has sex next to me and/or on top of me without being allowed to do anything to them but with them being allowed to do anything they want to me.
  • Tie my partner to a bed and have sex with someone else without my partner being allowed to do anything to us but with us being allowed to do anything we want to him
  • Give a bj with another woman
  • MMF
  • Sex in the bed of a truck
  • Sex in an abandoned house/building
  • Sex on the stairs
  • Try a flogger
  • Try a switch
  • Try a paddle
  • Be spanked
  • Try a magic wand
  • Try a wartenberg wheel
  • Try using clamps or clothespins
  • Try using wax
  • Try using ice
  • Sex in front of a fire
  • Be fisted
  • Have my pussy stretched
  • Give a ruined orgasm
  • Give head in an alleyway
  • Have sex with partner where he is fucking me and being fucked by another male or female with a strapon
  • Watch porn with someone
  • Watch my partner use fruit/veggie to masturbate
  • Reach a point where I need to use my safeword
  • Watch other people have sex
  • Go to the Art Cinema
  • Use my strapon on a woman
  • Use my strapon on a man
  • Use my strapon as part of DP for someone
  • Give head to a stranger/delivery person

Added to the list post original publishing..

* sex in a changing room

Painted Nails

It’s been awhile since I mentioned my nail polish and I don’t think I’ve ever shared how the whole idea of my polish being chosen for me came about. As it’s been something that is on going I thought I’d share now as it’s relevant to what I’ve been writing about at Obedient to Him, my other blog. (I actually hesitate to share the link after what happened last year but I think I have taken every precaution to assure this one isn’t as easily discovered.)

One of the submissive rules that I used to have was that my dominant chose my nail polish color for me. It was his way to give me a reminder of him, something he has chosen for me to wear. Every time I saw my fingertips in color I would think of him.

I don’t know why that one simple thing stuck with me so much. But when the dynamic with him ended that was one rule I couldn’t kick. I had the hardest time picking out polish to wear. It was actually thanks to twitter folks that I was able to overcome that mental block that kept me from choosing. A few folks volunteered to choose for me and one person, a fellow submissive, suggested that I put clear polish on. Then I wasn’t choosing a color but I was still painting my nails. That did the trick. It got me to a place where I could choose again, albeit a couple of months later.

For the last year J has been kind and chosen a color for me every once in a while when I have been really stressed and in need of some balance. It’s a small little thing to most everyone but to me, it’s deeply seeded in my submissive mind, it’s calming, soothing, and when I feel the stress or anxiety come on it gives me focus.

More recently, J has been choosing a color for me more regularly. Almost weekly for a month now. When we had our Sunday Conversation (not the one on ESPN) he asked to see my hands, I showed him, there was no polish. He was pleased that even thought it has been over a week that I hadn’t put any on. Before I left he told me a nice medium red would do nicely for this week. Hearing that made me smile inside. I thanked him.

This past Sunday we went for an end of the day walk. We actually ended up sitting in darkness after watching the sunset and just enjoyed the silence and the ocean sounds, both of us enjoying the present company and the recharging from nature. We walked back to our vehicles in the black, he offered his arm to walk with him so I didn’t trip. We stood for another hour talking in the parking lot (mostly because I couldn’t stop talking).  At one point he lifted my hand to see my nails. I said I would normally do my polish tonight (I do them every Sunday night) but I still had my self-imposed homework to do. He told me to send him 3 color choices and he would pick which I’d wear this week but that I should do my homework first. This week I have a neutral/beige color on called Tiramisu for Two. It’s my favorite neutral color to wear.

So that’s the deal with my painted nails. Silly, small, seemingly insignificant but kind of a big thing for me.

A Thought to Consider

As I laid in bed earlier this week, not sleeping, I was thinking about how I have been feeling lost, feeling the absence of direction and purpose in a general sense but also in a submissive sense. I got to thinking about rules and guidelines that I have enjoyed in the few D/s dynamics that I have been lucky enough to have and wondered if I made a list of the ones that did the most for me if that would provide me with a sense of peace that I’ve been missing.

I have since decided that’s exactly what I am going to do. We will see if it works or not but it’s worth a shot.  I am a submissive who needs structure; it can’t hurt.