Desire Lines

I guess most of us have had the experience of meeting people in real life they originally encountered online.  Many of these encounters can be big disappointments. Others can be more unusual. Some can be fantasies…….like this chance meeting with sex writer Anna Sansom.

Anna came to me out of the mist. I was tired and lost, resting on a grassy knoll, and munching what little food I had. Two sheep looked at me pityingly as if they thought I was mad, quite mad, to be so high up in their damp domain. I wondered what madness had possessed me to make me attempt this walk, when I had only ever followed waymarked trails through valleys.

Anna had a bright red waterproof jacket on, a small rucksack and a warm smile. She asked if she could join me on the grassy knoll I nodded agreement and she took off her rucksack and sat down.

“I’m Anna” she said, taking a slab of Kendal Mint Cake out of her rucksack and offering me a piece.

“You look like you could do with some of this. It’s good for giving you instant energy when you’re tired.”

“I don’t know if I am tired, just lost and  in need of some guidance.”

“Well I came to Wales with friends, but I knew I really didn’t want to do the  walks they had planned. I wanted to go my own way and experience some real excitement. But I am stuck up here and they are probably in that pub by the shore of the lake.”

“Maybe” aid Anna “but let’s walk together a little way and I will show you some of the things that they are missing out on. I think the mist is starting to lift  and there will be some great views across towards  Snowdon.”

“Do you do a lot of mountain walking?” I asked her.

“Well yes. I don’t think I have ever been one for the beaten track.”

“And do you always walk on your own?”

“Not always. Sometimes I walk with friends, sometimes with my partner and then, like today. I feel the need to head off on my own.”

I thought about this,

“Do you think I am odd, just setting off on my own like this.?”

“Not at all” said Anna, “You’re taking a risk by doing this, but you need to follow yoir won paths sometimes. We all do. And no you are not odd. And please don’t let anyone tell you that you are.”

“I need to be me don’t I?”

“You do. Remember, too, that you are good enough, you don’t need the approval of others to validate your life choices.”

Anna stood up.

“I didn’t catch your name.”

“Eve” I replied.

“Well it s  been lovely to meet you Eve…”

“It has”

“Maybe we should walk on a bit together? I guess we are going the same way, at least for a bit.”

So we walked and talked and as we talked about our lives, the life choices we all have to make, and the mist began to lift, the sun, pale yellow, began to break through the cloud and there below us, was the lake, the old road with cars snaking along it. And I could see a beauty in these mountains than I could only have guessed at from the perspective of the low level paths.

“There is one thing” I said “I am not sure how to put it”

“Go on” said Anna smiling,

“I have fallen in love.”

“That’s fabulous.”

“With a woman. I have never been into girls before  and this is…..”

“New> Exciting ? A bit like mountain walking?”

“Yes”

“it’s a new path for you isn’t it, a walk off the beaten track. You know I call it.? These are your desire lines, these  paths you take. And like mountain paths they bring both risks and rewards. But you need to follow them to be the real you.”

We had reached a point where a stony track on the left  dropped away off the ridge,

“Well Eve I do have to leave you a point. My partner will be expecting me back. But carry straight on and  you will come to the summit cairn. The mist should have lifted by the time you get there,”

“Thank you Anna.”

We looked at each other  for a second and then Anna took a  step forward and hugged me.

“I wish you all the very best Eve.. I hoe your desire lines take you where you want to go.  “

Then she turned and walked off,  disappearing over the side of the ridge along the stony track down to the lake, She did not look back, I paused a moment and turned right along the path along the ridge that rose gently to the summit cairn., from which the mist was now lifting.  I felt, peace, tranquility and, yes, joy.

POSTSCRIPT

Did I meet Anna again?  Well, actually I have never met Anna, although we were once in the same room in a Bristol bar without actually meeting (how did that happen?) However I am sure that we are going to meet in real life one day and I really think we will get on. For Anna is one of my oldest online friends  We have been engaging online and sharing for nearly seven years now, and sharing and Anna has always found time to offer her advice and suggestions when I have contacted her.

This little story is an allegory of my relationship with Anna as writer and reader. Anna’s new book, Desire Lines is published in September and while I can’t promise you it will help you navigate your way through the mists on Welsh mountains, it will give you much food for thought and encouragement as you map and follow your own desire lines.

Sharing Our Shit 8th June 2019

Thoughts on a few thing I have read recently.

I have been thinking a lot about crushes recently, and am working on a post on this very subject,  so I found this by Meg John and Justin interesting thought provoking.

I have crushes on people I know (although no one I now particularly well) but I guess I am not the only one to fantasise about strangers. Indeed it is not unknown for people seen on buses and trains to appear in my stories. I can still remember some of the people I fantasised about 40 years ago,  the woman on the bus to Birmingham with the short blonde hair and brown leather coat who seemed  to sit next to me on the cramped five person back seat more often than could be put down to chance? Or so I fantasised.  And there will be a story set in 1978 some time. The least I can do for her is use my pen to make her 30 again and let her have amazing sex. Yes, and maybe I will have that fantasy date to see The Motors at Barbarellas. So I enjoyed this little reflection by Kayla Lords.

In my kink persona I enjoy humiliating and degrading submissives although it has taken me a while to get to this point, to understanding the emotional needs of my submissives for this kind of play, the often treacherous ground to be negotiated, to find the kinds of play that bring release and catharsis and learning about that will cause pain and trauma.  And there are kinds of degradation play that, I think, will always remain hard limits. I do, however, get a real buzz out of bathroom and toilet humiliation, although I have met people on the scene who really don’t get MKINYKBYKIOK. Once I was asked, with my sub, to demonstrate bathroom play at a private house party,  only  for one of our hosts (the one who asked us for the demo!)  to tell us it was gross and disgusting and that we wouldn’t be welcome at their parties again. Victoria Blisse does, however, get degradation and I enjoyed this.

When this blog started nearly 7 years ago,I wrote a lot about sex work. And I keep having to come back to it.This piece in The Guardian says  it really. There can be no true feminism that does not embrace ALL women and feminism that excludes women because of disapproval of the way they use their bodies is not feminism. And on this note, please do not vote for the Women’s Equality Party which not only backs the discredited Nordic Model but had been complicit in the harassment ad outing of sex workers

Well that has to be a bit of car porn too doesn’t there? This week enjoy the E30 BMW 325i . Yes, I know they had a terrible reputation as Yuppiemobiles back in the heyday of Thatcherism  and if you buy one now you have to cope with the traumatic thought that the first owner may well have been a dickhead in red braces but, believe me, they were, and are, brilliant cars.

And finally a little music. This always reminds me of my fantasy lover of 1978.Enjoy.

 

The Hair Cut

A little story for Masturbation Monday

Heels, jeans and a tight fitting t shirt. I looked at myself in the mirror. I felt my hair , pulled it down, twisted it into plaits. Most of it would soon be gone.

I walked into the barbers and sat down, my heels having alerted everyone to the presence of a woman. The shop went silent. Everyone looked at me. I picked up a newspaper, The Sun if you really want to know. I peered out from behind the newspaper, feeling conspicuous and more than a little uncomfortable.

Two men paid and left, then a father hoisted a screaming toddler onto a little seat that rested on the arms of the barbers chair. I watched as a tattooed  bearded young man went to work. I returned to the sports pages of The Sun. My reading was interrupted by a woman’s voice,

“It’s you next isn’t it lovely?

My barber was a woman. She had a red bob and, like the men was dressed in black, t shirt, and leather trousers tucked into knee high boots.

I stood up and walked over to the chair, a little unsure what came next. I sat down in the chair and stuttered out

“A short back and sides?”

“Shall I leave a bit more on the top so that it lies, you know, rather than sticking up?”

“Oh that would be good.”

“Cut square at the back?”.

I nodded. Still, l I thought, it was good to have a woman to guide me, if necessary, through this strange new world I had stepped into.

“I’m Ali by the way” she said and began her work of cutting and shaving. I watched as the long brown hair dropped in folds over the cape and flopped onto landed onto the floor. I felt myself getting wet as I watched. Under cover of the cape I slipped a hand into my jeans and began to massage my clit.

It was warm in the shop, I was enjoying the music, the falling hair was making me wet and I liked Ali, She didn’t say much but that was maybe because I was drifting off into my own little genderqueer world.

Then she said

“Right all done”.

She showed me her handiwork in the mirror she held behind my head.

“How do you like it?”

I nodded approval. I was speechless with excitement.

She unclipped the cape and I quickly withdrew my hand from my jeans. I was wet and frustrated.

I paid and made to leave. As I turned and headed for the door Ali slipped me a note. Once I reached the bus stop I   the note out of my pocket and unfolded it. It said

“You are gorgeous”

A few weeks later I went back. I knew I needed to experience the again the masculine environment, with kits smell of aftershave and testosterone, its grubby newspapers, the packets of rubbers in a rack. Most of all I needed to see Ali.

This time I had a men’s polo shirt on, I had taped my breasts to make them even less prominent.

“I want a head shave.”

Ali stroked my heads as she worked and I felt my head against her breasts as my nipples hardened and chafed against the tape.

“There you go lovely” said Ali holding up the mirror. I looked at my shaven head, ran my hands over the stubble on my head. I was the last customer of the day. Ali has already locked the door.  I looked in the large mirror in front of  and saw Ali, her hand down her leather trousers.

She knew that I had seen her. She blushed but did not move her hand.

“You’re fuckng hot” she said as she massaged her clit with increasing vigour. “But I have never been with ..you know …I am not sure”

I got out of the chair and shook a few loose hairs from my head. I went up to her.

“I can show you a few things. But for now, let’s just enjoy each other this way.”

I knelt down before her in the sweep of what had been my hair, and which Ali would have to sweep up before she left. I motioned to her to kneel too. There, on our knees in the deserted shop, a double dildo length apart, we masturbated to each other.

“First steps” I said. “We don’t touch, we each pleasure ourselves just as we want to be pleasured by each other next time. We offer this as a gift to each other. We focus on each other, we come together.”

“And next time?” asked Ali.

“Who knows?” I answered. “Just enjoy this. This is the real deal too. Let it bring you joy.”

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