WildPrecious

What has the new year brought you?

Sprinkled in with the despair (if you're paying attention) has there also been joy?

I think I just may want something female led. 

I may be tired of men being in charge, when often times, women are so much more capable. 

I know, that rubs lots of you the wrong way, to say the least. 

But, you want want what you want. 

And, you want us to know what we want. 

Maybe I do. 

it might be impossible.

I don't know if there's a name for what I want.

A chimera maybe. Two things at once.

Hurt me because you know I want it, not because you do.

Do I want a sub, then?

Are you as happy as I am on your own? Free? 

What I really want to know is, are you going to the cottage?

Hey, Merry Christmas!

A long journey, and I am changed.

Physically, yes, but the body and the mind are connected. Which is dominant?

I think we all agree it's the mind.

I need his mind to tell mine that I am exquisite perfection. 

I would do anything in return. 

Being cherished and adored, just as you are, is the catalyst for obedience.

I see you. And, you. 

You, too. 

We're baaaack. 

The cherry blossoms droop in the gray rain, and I can't - quite literally! - find the spring in my step.

I find perfection, then want more. 

Drowning in an embarrassment of riches. 

Secret Room

"They met, irregularly, at the secret room and at his apartment in the Haight. She had the feet of a ballerina and the temperament of a harpsichord, and she possessed a certain willingness to be cold."

-Lindsay Hill, Sea of Hooks

Secret Room

"Of her naked body this: that he had never seen anything so beautiful."

-Lindsay Hall, Sea of Hooks

(My mission is to get you all to read this book)

Nine days after her 59th birthday, she started eating oysters almost every day. 

There is a catch in her throat, a dampness between her legs; her skin prickles. Is it the early tease of spring, its warmth just beneath the surface of a brisk wind, or the return of his words, rich and raw, that shake her back to life, and desire? 

I keep talking about my windows. I finally took some pictures. I hope you enjoy them.

This is my dating profile. They don't get the provocative pics, just the words. But, also my face. I guess it's a trade-off:

"Successful, educated, wabi sabi misfit looking for a beautifully weird, hilarious, mad cap companion for companionable silence & worldly adventures. I love flaneuring, bookshop browsing, fine dining at 5:00, movies, martinis, reading, museums, Tokyo, Mediterranean beaches, jazz clubs, day drinking, and naps."

It's my birthday today. The cusp of a big one. 

Those I have talked to here have been very kind. I appreciate it. 

Someone, in their profile, says to write about our desires here, in our journals. We women, who want to be led by dominant men. 

Don't we all just want to be known?

There's a sense that if I stand naked before you, you will know me. That is my most vulnerable. 

Yes, you can see part of me here, in my photos, but that's just a piece. 

It's not that there's anything wrong with me. Of course, I think there are a million things wrong with me, but most of you probably wouldn't notice, or mind, or might even like those things. 

But, I am mistaken. The me I want you to see isn't my naked body. It's in my head. 

I want someone who can see inside my head and then, to act accordingly. 

The hardest part is finding the right rhythm. 

Things intensify so quickly, and you just want to tear yourself open. 

Then, the realization that you are strangers. How to disentangle? 

There's nothing like the heady days when you first find someone. 

The thrill, the agony, the hope. 

And always the question of what is sustainable. Long distance is hard, but not impossible. 

The world is topsy turvy. I need a distraction.

I think it would be funny to meet a stranger or have a first date on Valentine's Day.

So many role play opportunities.

Happy Heart Day, beautiful, twisted people!

You tell me not to worry. 

But are we not all motivated by fear? Or desire? Are they two sides of the same coin?

I crave climax but it is harder to come by. Do I need a new toy, or is the toy no longer enough?

It's a strange thing to consider my libido as a post-menopausal woman? At whatever age, we are never properly balanced, hormonally. Our modern diet and lifestyle keep us out of whack. I am probably lucky I have a libido at all! 

Should I tell you about the couple at the end of the bar? She was at least mid-40's, he was maybe a bit older, but both in fine fettle, and good looking. They seemed like a pair of old socks, but then he started groping her, his big hand planted just below her right breast, fingers spread wide. He rubbed her belly like she was a pet, but then would bring his hand back up. When he took his hand away, she crossed her arms. Was she trying to keep him away? When they stood to leave he wrapped himself around her from behind and she asked if he had always been such a big cuddler. She had a British accent, thus the use of cuddle. 

Was I jealous? On my other side was a 9 year old boy with his dad. Equally entertaining! 

I thought I would keep strolling, see what else I might wander into, but I decided to call it a day. 

Now I can enjoy the Sunday scaries in the privacy of my own home. 

Happy New Year!

I wonder how everyone is feeling heading into 2025. I am worried about the future, but trying to focus on what I can do, and not worry about what I have no control over. Always good advice, right?

I have not been here in awhile, but I am ever hopeful that I might find my needle in the haystack. Believe it or not, I have found one or two here before. 

Some of you are in NY, and have suggested we meet. That scares me, but I also do not want a LD relationship, so someone local is my best bet. 

I am working up the courage to open myself up to what I want, as much as it may scare me. 

Are you out there? 

From the corner apartment on the 43rd floor, I can see so much. There's construction on all sides. If I can see them, they can see me, right? Ooops. I still walk around naked after a shower. 

I think it would be fun to fuck, in front of the windows, in front of the workers across the way. 

Just sayin'. 

Holidays are approaching. I'm excited to spend time with my family. 

I like the idea of a secret life, even though I don't need to have one. I'm divorced, and my kids are grown, yet the kind of relationship I want can't be discussed over the Thanksgiving table. 

Not a secret then, but an omission. 

I found myself in Grand Central this afternoon, which meant a stop at the Oyster Bar. I have such great John Cheever fantasies about the place, but the martinis are the worst. 

So, on the rare occasion that I try again and hope for the best, I need to go to Gage & Tollner for a proper one. Tonight that also involved a steak and an amazing goat cheese and blueberry cheesecake. 

These are the things I love. 

My point being, if you allow me to indulge, I will be more pliable. 

What are your holiday fantasies?

My son was scammed over a two year period culminating in what was supposed to be a first meeting yesterday. He sent money: plane fare, half the AirBNB, etc. and he still harbors some hope tht she might be real and just got cold feet. 

I know people think there are a lot of scammers on this site. I'm sure it's true, but it's sad. 

I may not want to meet you, or even talk to you, but I am a real, living, breathing woman, just looking for connection like everyone else. 

Good luck out there, and for godsake, don't give anyone money!

What a long strange trip - week - it's been. 

It's a good time to be a submissive. What a treat it must be to slip off into subspace and ignore the rest of the world. 

A lot of us will probably be fine, but my heart goes out to our LBGTQ friends who must be feeling some trepidation. 

Stay safe, and be kind. 

I just reread my last entry, and it's a bit harsh. Maybe a bit of guilt in there for ignoring people, since I HAVE put myself out there. 

My desire ebbs and flows. As a natural submissive, it makes sense that it would need a source. It comes from someone else, drawing it out, defining it, feeding on its power. 

I can see the outlines of him. I wish I could draw him into being. 

I'm a reader and a writer.

It's words, typed, hand written, or whispered, that stir me.

I understand the limitations of this site, so I can forgive a typo, but if you use simple, crass, and ugly words, or cannot put a sentence together, I'm not interested.

If you say 'hello' or "hi how are you" or some variation, I'm not interested.

I delete those messages and block their senders.

I get to choose who I surrender to. 

It's strange to write a journal entry that everyone can see. 

I've talked to a number of people here in the past week or so, and I enjoy learning about what people are looking for while trying to figure out my own desires. 

Some people have commented on my seemingly contradictory feelings about exhibitionism. I never want to be exposed in public where people can see my face and my body. Yet, the idea of anonymous exhibitionism is intriguing, and something I definitely fantasize about. 

I think writing in this journal is a good way for me to push myself toward the kind of vulnerability I'm afraid of, but also crave. 

It's a very real kind of exposure.