Baby, Can I Hold You

Birthday Wish(es)

August 1, 2025

dating, life, relationships, sex

It was my birthday recently. It …was not my best birthday ever. But in an attempt to bring in some positivity, I spent an awful lot of time thinking about my birthday wish for the actual day and the upcoming year.

I think my birthday feels like a new beginning in the middle of the year. Almost like another New Year’s Day where the year starts again and I can think of different or better ways to spend my time.

And there are so many things that I wish for myself this year. I want my divorce finalised, some freedom in terms of my finances, my space, my choices. But those things aren’t always in my control.

So instead I think my focus will be on ways to bring happiness into my life. I want to spend the rest of this year with more joy in my life. I’d love it if I could go on adventures with my family, with my dog.

I’d like to make more friends, I’d like to feel part of a community or a network of some sort. People to lean on when times are tougher than they should be. I imagine this looks like renewed friendships with those already in my life but also new friends who are possibly in sex positive communities or the LGBTQ+ community.

I’d like to grow this blog more. If you like what you’ve read, I’d appreciate more subscribers, more likes, more (gasp) comments. I like the creative outlet this space gives me. I like having the ability to process and give some real thought to my experiences, to my feelings.

But maybe most of all, I’d like to find regular sexual enjoyment. Whether that looks like regular pleasure with one particular person or if that’s a wider net with multiple people I don’t mind. But I feel better when I have sexual connection with others and when I have pleasure to look forward to. I want more of that in my life.

No comments on Birthday Wish(es)
Best Friend

July 31, 2025

life

Do you have a best friend? I do. I’ve never met her though. She lives on the other side of the world and we met ten years ago in a chat room. I do this thing sometimes where instead of a person’s name or what they look like I sometimes think of other people in the way they make me feel. And my best friend? To me, she feels like the sun. She makes everything brighter.

Right from day one we’ve had a friendship that was based on really open and honest communication. There’s never been judgement between us. We’ve supported each other through new jobs, new houses, new relationships, sex with strangers, stints in hospital, through complicated family dynamics, her marriage, my end of marriage, her children being born, mine leaving the nest.

Whenever things are tough in my life, at work, with my family, within my relationships I think of escaping and I’m often online to find out how much it would cost to fly to Melbourne. That I might text my best friend to say ‘I’m coming to you, pick me up at the airport at 8pm on Thursday?’ And I know that if that ever happened, I’d walk out at arrivals and she’d be there. Whenever things are really great in my life I want to share things with her too.

I’m currently in the middle of a divorce and I’m often thinking of what it would be like to spend time with her. Quite often I imagine us just lounging about talking and laughing. Having the longest catch ups ever where we fill each other in on every single detail of our lives. Or walking around in the nearby park, walking with her small children running around us, swinging one of them between us as we’re talking.

Before she was married and had children my thoughts of her were different. I’d think of us in her kitchen, perhaps. She’d be cooking and I’d mostly just be standing around keeping her company. Or maybe we’d be on the sofa together watching a film together, the both of us pressed against each other, my head on her shoulder, her hair falling into my face. Sometimes the thoughts would take other turns where she’ll be talking to me and time slows down and I end up hyper focusing on her mouth, the way her lips form words as she’s speaking. Or smiling. Or laughing.

I often think of watching her. Touching her. Sometimes it’s my thumb on her lips, sometimes I touch her cheek. Or brush her hair out of her face. It’s always just been something between us. This question mark of what would happen if we were ever in the same space together. What I have never questioned, and will never, is the impact it would have on our friendship. Which is that there wouldn’t be one. I might be naive in my feelings but I just feel a sense of acceptance that we were always meant to be friends, found family even. A friendship that also strays into more physical intimacy given half a chance. I find the lines of my friendships are often blurred and with her, I welcome it.

No comments on Best Friend
A Fantasy vol. 2

July 30, 2025

dating, relationships, sex

I mentioned in another post that something I daydream about with others is about falling asleep with them and today I thought I’d share a little bit more about that.

There’s something about falling asleep with someone that I feel is incredibly intimate. I had someone I was briefly having sex with recently that kept inviting me over to his place. Like, to stay overnight and I just found the very idea of it too much. It felt like too much too soon in any case. So it never happened.

I think part of that is because I’ve only ever ‘stayed over’ with one person. My ex husband, who I was married to for literal decades. And now that I’m in this situation where I might stay over with a new sexual or romantic partner? It feels a little bit scary.

Which isn’t to say that I’m not into the idea of it. I’ve talked a lot about my English teacher friend. How much his friendship meant to me in me figuring out things about myself and what I wanted in life. What I didn’t want in life. And at the same time I was having this epiphany in my romantic and sexual life I was going through the actual worst time in my personal life. My dad was very poorly and he wasn’t getting any better.

And it was during this time that I started having daydreams about my English teacher friend. And they mostly just involved me putting my head on his shoulder until I fell asleep. Because I was always tired at that time. I wasn’t sleeping well from the stress and worry. And I wanted to be with someone who would just be there with me and with whom I could do what I needed the most. Sleep. Sometimes I thought about him hugging me or falling asleep nestled into him. But mostly it was just me leaning on him and dozing off. Knowing that I was safe to do so.

It always felt like ‘fantasy’ was about safety, about comfort.

Years later, when I was with my ex, my daydream had changed. I still thought about falling asleep leaning against him. And once, when we were together he did fall asleep. It became one of the things that I think back on our relationship and remember really fondly. But it wasn’t what I ended up thinking about with him. We had so little time together that my thoughts of him ended up taking on other paths.

With him, I always thought of waking up and seeing him. I vividly remember fantasies where I opened my eyes and there he was. For me, with him? It was always about him still being there. About him staying. That I could close my eyes, that I could sleep, and the dream was that when I woke up, he’d still be there.

No comments on A Fantasy vol. 2
Does ‘Normal’ Exist?

July 29, 2025

sex

I was talking to a friend earlier and I said something like ‘if I’d had a normal journey through sex this wouldn’t have happened…’ and quite rightly my friend pointed out that someone else’s ‘normal’ will look very differently to mine. Pointing out that normal likely doesn’t exist.

I think what I meant is a type of normal that is expected? But expected by whom? And who is creating this narrative? Again, I get it. Normal doesn’t exist. But it sort of does, right?

When I talk about ‘normal’ I mostly mean the people that started having sex at a reasonably young age (young being left vague here for a reason) and then exploring sex and dating and relationships as a young person into adulthood. And going through those formative experiences. Of knowing stuff about yourself, about other people.

And when I say that my own experiences haven’t been normal I mean that I got married to the first person I had penetrative sex with, we got married ridiculously early and until a few years ago my ex husband was the only person I’d had sex with.

And now here I am, in my 40s, and I feel ridiculously inexperienced. I feel like I’m only just now gaining some sexual confidence. That I’m only just now slowly learning what I enjoy, how to communicate with people I’m having sex with, how to navigate sex. Do I tell potential partners that I don’t want them to spit in my mouth? or just let that happen/not happen naturally?

In the past year and a half, I’d say that I’ve gone through the biggest developmental phase of my life in terms of learning what I want and don’t want during sex, with sexual partners or what I’m even looking for within relationships. And I feel like it’s tough. Everything feels so confusing.

Thank you for being on this journey with me. I feel like I’m not getting it right and I’m not being intentional with it in order to chase content. I’m just naturally shit at it. But I feel like I’m making some progress. In large part because I have this safe space.

No comments on Does ‘Normal’ Exist?
Lingerie

July 28, 2025

sex

I buy a lot of lingerie. Like, a lot. I’m currently expecting a delivery of new lingerie today and I’m really quite excited about it. And sometimes I think to myself, it’s a bit weird how much things have changed about how I view my body.

A thing has happened throughout the last few years and that has been that I’ve taken pictures of myself and shared them different places. It was usually just individually. A long distance friend had a thing about legs and liked seeing my legs in thigh high stockings and it kind of went from there.

I’ve liked the responses I’ve gotten. And I’ve wanted more of the responses. Which has meant both sharing the pictures more widely and more exploration with the type of lingerie I’ve been wearing. I see it as a sort of mini-exhibitionism. I get a thrill at the idea of someone (some people) seeing me in whatever I’m wearing.

I’ve found that I also just really like lingerie. I’ve barely ever worn it for someone in person. But I like the design of lingerie. I like the different colours, finding out which colours look better against my skin tone. The different designs and what they do to emphasise by assets or not. I like different fabrics. I like scalloped designs, and halter neck designs. I prefer green, or colours that are a little bit different. Paler colours don’t do enough to stand out. I like floral designs.

And I guess the thing I like the most is that every time I take a little bit of a risk with the lingerie I find that I end up appreciating my body and the way that I look just that little bit more. I’m doing it for myself and if other people are enjoying it too, that’s an added bonus.

No comments on Lingerie
I’m Tired

July 24, 2025

dating

I’ve been struggling with what to write on here lately. And a lot of that has been down to just being exhausted from all the interactions I’ve been having lately.

I arranged to go on a date the other day, he cancelled way last minute. The reason given was work when up to this point he said he chooses his hours and time commitment to work. So, okay. I do generally give one chance and so tried to rearrange and he said ‘how about next month?’ (at the start of the month) and I just can’t even.

I started talking with someone else. He immediately asked to meet me. I said ‘no’ so he started asking questions about me and my interests, I responded. Asked him questions but he didn’t volunteer much. I think that he thought ‘tick’ we’ve powered through the getting to know you bit so he asked to meet me again. I said I don’t meet anyone until I know enough about them that it won’t be awkward chatting for however long it takes to finish our coffee. This isn’t unreasonable. He was game so he sent a message with things about him. I said ‘that’s a lot of words and yet you still remain incredibly vague’ He then went on to say he didn’t know much about me either and I copy and pasted everything I’d already told him about me into a more recent message. He responded by asking me out again.

I met someone recently, had a wonderful time. Told him I’d like to see him again. But over the next three weeks he didn’t message me first, when I messaged him he’d say ‘funny, I was just about to message you’ he talked about his plans with other people and then told me that he ‘wasn’t sure’ if I’d changed my mind about seeing him again.

When does the bullshit stop? I’d really like to know.

No comments on I’m Tired
What Being Loved By You Felt Like

July 23, 2025

relationships

How do I put into words what it felt like to be loved by you? It’s a difficult one. And I’ve almost scrapped this post three or four times because all of the words feel like a cliche. They feel like too much sometimes because I’m dramatic with how I felt. It was big, and powerful and impactful and I don’t how to describe it without being dramatic. Because what’s dramatic if not just big emotions and big reactions to those emotions? And love? Between you and me? That was pretty great.

(And it also sometimes feel like it’s not enough. Like there aren’t words to describe these feelings. Like they’re inadequate.)

I think the thing that stands out the most is that when we were together, I felt calm. I wasn’t overthinking, I wasn’t panicking or worrying. It felt like when you were with me you brought me peace. And I’ve never felt that way before. It feels intoxicating to feel calm when my regular feeling is one of turmoil, of anxiety. At first I thought it was just our bubble, that being in our bubble together brought an element of safety. But just thinking about you gives me that hit of calm. Even now, more than a year later, I feel a sense of calm when I think of you.

Another big one is acceptance. In the world, with everyone else, I always feel like too much. Too emotional, too serious, too introspective, too dramatic, too loud, just generally too much. But with you? You made me feel like everything about me was just right. And I’m actually starting to cry as I’m writing this because do you know how that feels? To feel like everything about me is just right? That you’ve accepted me just as I am. With my changing moods, with my big feelings, with the tears, the awkwardness, the passing fads of interest. You accepted me just as I was and not only that but you celebrated it. You loved the way I told long, winding stories that don’t make sense until the very end, or the way I’d ask a question and we’d unravel the answer together. I feel like I could spend the rest of my life thanking you for this one feeling and it still wouldn’t be enough.

When you first came into my life, I feel like I was just starting to understand certain things about myself, that I was just starting to accept parts of myself, to know myself better. Better isn’t the right word because I feel like I didn’t know myself at all and then I started to. And when I met you, and you loved me in that messy state it felt like I wanted to take it further. That I wanted to …be the best version of myself. Not for you. But because of you. Does that make sense?

There’s something about you. Maybe it’s not. you and maybe it’s love? But it felt like it magnified everything. All my feelings got bigger and stronger. I felt like I was prettier because I started seeing myself the way you saw me. I felt funnier for the same reason. And sexier. I think I’m generally interested in lots of things but it was like because I was sharing interesting things with you that I felt motivated to be way more interesting than I normally am. Everything felt charged.

And I waited. And waited. For things to calm down. For my feelings to be less. For you to disappoint me. For me to disappoint you. That’s what love has been for me. Always a steady road towards disinterest, towards less. And it was never that way with you. Even when things ended it felt like things still burn bright. Even now, I force myself into focusing on other people, on other situations. But if I wanted to lean back into you and what we were, things probably won’t have changed.

And I don’t know if that’s scary to me or if that’s comforting. It’s probably both. Scary that I continue to have such big feelings for you. But also comforting to know that you’re in the world. And what was between us was real and lasting.

No comments on What Being Loved By You Felt Like
Meeting Someone New

July 22, 2025

dating

I met someone new recently. He was lovely in his messages. Really open and engaging and it felt like from the first message that we’d really get along. But we did continue messaging for quite some time. I don’t recall now if that was down to my schedule or if it was because he has a tendency to take things a little slower. Either way I didn’t mind.

Eventually we did meet up for a coffee. He told me about a bonkers date that we went on recently with a couple and I told him of a crazy experience I’d had. One of things I like most about him is how easy it is for him to lean into when he finds things funny. I said something and I swear to god, he actually slapped his thigh laughing. It was adorable. I couldn’t get enough watching him laugh.

I also truly believe that he’s the sort of person who, if things hadn’t worked out between us in a sexual capacity, that he’d be a wonderful friend to have in my life. A lot of other people (men) say they’d happy to be just friends and I’ve never believed any of them until this moment. And I wanted there to be something between us. I wanted our friendship to just naturally lead into doing sex things with each other.

After coffee, as we walked out to the car park, he gave me a very respectful hug and I didn’t know what to make of that. I understood that he didn’t want to put pressure on me in that moment and instead we messaged afterwards to see how we both felt about each other. We were both on the same page. But unfortunately, I went out of town shortly after that and then he did too and followed that with some incredibly busy times.

We didn’t meet up again for another month and this time we met in a pub garden and caught up with each other for several hours. Even though it had been awhile it also felt like no time had passed. I liked his easy smile, his sense of humour. That we both complained about certain things in the same way. I liked hearing about his journey into being poly and ENM. The way he talked about not really fitting in with different labels, the safety checks he uses with other people. His safety checks typically lasted a lot longer than mine but I liked that about him. There was no rushing in and getting it all wrong. Things are steady with him, respectful, easy.

After we finished our drinks, we said our goodbyes and a funny thing happened. I stepped in for a hug and ended up looking up at him in this way that felt incredibly intimate. Like we were going to kiss. But I said oh, that feels quite awkward and sudden and he gave me another quick squeeze before saying something like, I’m not going to make it awkward. And it wasn’t. I was honestly just really happy that he’s the sort of person who can just diffuse something like that, make me comfortable again.

Another meeting with this kind, funny man and he put a massive smile on my face. Even with no kiss as yet!

No comments on Meeting Someone New
Visiting A Nudist Spa

July 21, 2025

relationships, sex

I don’t remember much about visiting a first nudist spa for the first time. It was with my ex. We had food for lunch together before we went on a Wednesday afternoon. Again, same as when we visited a sex club for the first time, my biggest feeling from the day was that it was lovely to spend so much time together just me and him.

When we got there, the receptionist was a bit cheeky as she was checking us in. I don’t own flip flops so (horror!) I had to borrow a pair. She offered to give us a tour of the place as it was our first time and I remember sniggering at the amount of signs up that warned against chewing gum. As though the biggest threat towards running this nudist place was gum. She pointed out the changing rooms, the lockers, the showers. I don’t remember the layout off the top of my head so the rest of the tour is a bit of a blur.

I do remember that we peered into the room with the hot tubs but it was dark and steamy. Then the pool which, when I glanced in, I got a good view of an older, overweight man absolutely railing a woman from behind on a rattan bed off to the side of the pool. I was a bit shocked, not that they were having sex necessarily but moreso because it was almost the first things I saw (and then almost saw nothing else sexual for the rest of the visit?). There was a bar and a dungeon bit. A cinema, a pool table.

We walked around the tour fully clothed but once it was over we had to head to the changing rooms and showers. And this was my first time in a space that required nudity. I didn’t know how to feel taking my clothes off, walking around in just my towel. I remember we initially went into different stalls to use the shower but I got nervous and joined my ex in his. I think my main instinct at the time was to hide behind him. I remember thinking I didn’t know how I’d make it through the next few hours here.

But almost as soon as I thought that, I bucked up. I hate it when my fear prevents me from doing things so in having that thought it made me determined to make the most of it. Lean into the discomfort and awkwardness if I could.

As I said, my memories of that day aren’t strong or clear memories. I remember talking to a nice man. I don’t remember if we met him in the pool and he perhaps followed us into the hot tubs? But as he was saying something to me? to both of us? I remember thinking of a funny thing to say that I hoped my ex would find funny. And he did, he laughed and it was like we were in our own private bubble. It was always just the two of us for me.

I enjoyed the time in the pool. At first it was just me and him and we were floating about in the pool. He did a couple of laps underwater and I remember feeling a little thrill at seeing his ass as he swam past me. I think even though I felt self conscious in the beginning with my own nudity, that I got over it quickly and it was only really getting in and out of the pool or hot tubs that I noticed it much.

We got chatting to people in the pool who were quite friendly. Nudists seem to be a chatty, inclusive sort. But I quickly grew bored of conversation and started with the floating in a more secluded area of the pool. But that ended when I looked up and saw a single man sitting at the edge of the pool wanking as he was watching me. I decided that was enough alone time and went back to find my ex.

Some of the people there were a bit much. As we were still wandering around looking at the different areas and trying things out we ran into some people who weren’t really our sort of people. There was a dark room? Maybe that isn’t the right way to describe it but it’s just a really, really dark space. I’m not into the anonymous nature of spaces like that but I am very child-like at times and I wanted to see how big this space was, where it ended. We were in there talking when men joined us. I think they were determined to touch one of us so my ex (who is tall) ended up stretching his leg out so that they’d ‘accidentally’ bump into his leg. I think my ex understood that I wasn’t comfortable in this space, so we left the dark room after that.

Next to it was the glory holes. Now you know I’m not the sort of person who would enjoy glory holes but as soon as I saw them I thought … I don’t think these holes are big enough. As mentioned, my ex is very tall. And I figured if I was kneeling (on the frankly quite narrow) little ledge, and he was standing in front of it that there would be a mismatch! So I went and kneeled and him, still with his towel around him, tried it out. Him standing with his giraffe long legs did put him at the very top end of the hole and just the whole enactment of this set me off into peals of laughter. So much so that I almost didn’t hear this 60+ year old man (with his cock out? did I misremember that? was he stroking it?) tell me ‘it’s better if you stay IN the glory hole’ …

Every time we ended up in the porn cinema, a couple of single men would follow us in there. I bet each time they followed us in they were a bit disappointed that it was just him and I in there discussing the merits of the porn we were watching, talking about how unrealistic it was or me asking him if what we were watching was appealing to him. I felt like I could have talked to him all day and not grown bored. But I kept being reminded that we were around other people. That wanted to touch me in dark places, that wanted me to give them blow jobs, that wanted us to be putting on a show in the cinema.

I had a nice time with him though, we played a game of pool in which I realised how terrible I am at pool. We spent time in a private room. Once it wasn’t hugely private and I ended up being very loud near and, because the changing rooms were right next to the room we were in, there seemed to be a lot of traffic around our room. Did the fact that others were nearby heighten things for me? Did knowing they could hear us? I don’t really know. What I mostly remember about being in that private room with him was us laughing really hard before, me having this absolutely perfect moment with someone I was in love with.

There were moments of awkwardness. It was weird being there and not really interacting with other people except when in the pool. Some of the men felt creepy. The glory hole guy, the guy wanking at the side of the pool, the ones that followed us into the cinema. We were sitting opposite to a couple in the lounge area and a man sort of pushed his partner’s face onto his dick in a way that didn’t feel sexy at all to me.

But it was an experience. And one I’m very glad to have shared with my ex.

No comments on Visiting A Nudist Spa
Scare vol. 2

July 18, 2025

relationships, sex

Not long after I had a cancer scare I had another type of scare. My periods have never been consistently on time, there’s been quite a few occasions where things have arrived a few days early or a few days late. But earlier this year, I had a scare when my period hadn’t arrived after a week AND my nipples ended up being really sore in a way that felt unusual.

I googled ‘why are my nipples so sore’ and the results came back to say friction from exercise or skin conditions or … hormonal changes like during pregnancy or menstruation. Which would make sense if I ever exercise or if I was bleeding at the time. But I wasn’t. And so yeah. I thought … what if I’m pregnant.

I hadn’t really considered being worried about this when it was just a late period. I’m in my 40s, I figured I’ve probably hit peri-menopause and this is just my life now where I’ve got inconsistency and unusual body things happening. Yes, I’m sexually active but I have reliable birth control and I use condoms every time. So my worry levels were incredibly low. Until the nipple ache. And the nipple ache just continued and became a nuisance and there seemed to be no real cause for it. So once the idea came into my head, I couldn’t really ignore it.

And I did reach out to several people to talk about my worry. Mostly those people I’d had sex with at some point. At the time of my pregnancy scare, between my last period and the period that didn’t show up, I’d had three sexual partners and was still in contact with two of them.

Thankfully (is this the right word?), one of them hadn’t come when we’d had sex so he was ruled out as a potential anything and reduced the risk by one. And that didn’t really ease any of my worry but it did help that he was kind about it, he understood I was worried.

The other person I told sent me a message that read (out of context) as ‘So what?’ that triggered some anxiety even if he didn’t intend his message to be that harsh. I remember thinking …how am I even having sex with a person that might respond in a situation like this with ‘SO WHAT’ It really didn’t help matters.

I decided that I’d go out the next morning and buy a pregnancy test. There’s a store near to my house and even though it would have only taken a few minutes to drive home I decided that in my impatience to know that I’d do the test in the store toilets. When I stepped into it though the smell of it made me gag (and I briefly wondered if a sensitivity to smell was pregnancy related) and I quickly made my way back to my car.

My hands were shaking as I took the pregnancy test out of the box, tried to read the instructions on the little leaflet to know what to look out for and then I just got on with it, I had plans that day that would keep me out of the house the rest of the day and I just wanted it done, I wanted to know.

I wasn’t pregnant.

The test results were clear very quickly and the test line showed up clear as anything with no second line to confirm a pregnancy. I remember feel shaky with relief. But I was also feeling a lot of other things too.

Mostly shame. And I don’t then and still don’t know how to get rid of this feeling like I’ve done something wrong. I remember before I bought the pregnancy test thinking …what would I do if I was pregnant? How would I tell my family? How would I tell my friends or colleagues? I obviously wouldn’t have kept it but I feel like I just didn’t have the strength to tell my ex husband or my children that I had become pregnant. That it could have been one of three potential fathers.

And I don’t think I’d judge a friend going through this situation. Even a stranger. But I’m all for judging myself, for slut shaming myself in this way. Like, what are you doing acting foolishly at your age? Getting pregnant? In your 40s? Or even, having casual sex with multiple men? Not even being sure of whose it might be? There was a lot of criticism in my head over this period of time.

A lot of my thoughts centred around this idea of ‘what are you doing with your life? How did you get to this point?’ And I know logically that I’m not doing anything wrong, I don’t need to justify my relationships, sexual or otherwise to anyone. And yet I still feel shame. I still feel guilty, maybe. Selfish. Embarrassed to be have been in this situation.

And I need to figure out a way to be kinder to myself. To adopt some self-compassion. I did everything I should have. I am responsible in my birth control decisions and using protection. And I am also deserving of sexual fulfilment. I knew that in ending my marriage that would mean looking for others to meet my emotional and physical needs.

I sometimes feel like I don’t deserve happiness or to have sex and pleasure because of the bomb I dropped on my marriage. But it isn’t true. I do deserve happiness. And pleasure. I just need to believe it when I tell myself.

No comments on Scare vol. 2