Dear Diary

A black and white image of me lying on the floor, one hand in my underwear which has the only splash of colour - red - in the whole image. I am nude, and one knee is up.

Dear Diary 


I don’t want to waste any more time. Bodies are so amazing, they can do such amazing things, but you never know when they will stop working, and mine is already half beat. I don’t want to waste any more of the time I have being ‘good’ and following the rules. I want adventure. I want to make the most of every opportunity. I want to experience what can be experienced.


Fuuuuuuck! It is happening! It’s going to happen! They are interested in me, and in helping me explore. I have been bouncing off the ceiling. Is it like this for everyone else, when someone or something new comes along? I don’t know, I have only ever had one serious relationship before, and no adventures. I can hardly believe it is real.

Is it ok that I just know I want to explore. Without necessarily knowing the ‘what’ exactly? I mean, if I am honest I just want to explore everything but I have no idea where to start. 

Ok, I know some things. I know I like to be pushed a bit, in terms of boundaries. It’s exciting to be a bit scared, and I like novelty. I know that in situations where I am out of my comfort zone I’m more comfortable being told what to do, but that when I really know what I’m doing I am good at being bossy. 

Oh gosh what if I am rubbish and not worth their time. My lack of experience isn’t going to be sexy or fun, and maybe they will hate it. Maybe they are just humouring me. It’s not like I am a good prospect, with a body that barely functions. What if I can’t give them a good time because my arms or my neck or my legs don’t work?  

I’m still so excited! I get giddy every time they message. I really hope it happens. I really do. 


I didn’t factor in how hard it would be to wait. I didn’t factor in that all my stuff would get triggered. I’ve been in a stable, mentally healthy place for so long, I thought I would be ok, but I forgot I have been handling an immense amount of stress and vulnerability lately, and parts of me have been triggered that I thought were long gone. The really young part with ALL that devastating need. The older kid (adapted child, for the therapy crowd) that is scared of being in trouble/too much/a burden and doesn’t want to make a fuss. The critical part that is trying to keep me in line so that I don’t screw it up.

There is also the wild part, the free child, who is desperate to be let loose. She is rattling her cage right now. She knows they have a key. 

I know I will get some of what I want. It’s just a matter of time. It’s hard not knowing how much time.


IT HAPPENED! I lost my halo. I loved it.

I don’t want to forget all the wonderful, hot and exciting things we whispered to each other, the caresses and touches, the moments we enjoyed. I want to hold them all in my memory forever. 

I loved that when they arrived, there was laughter. I loved our hands touching, and holding to help with the connection. I loved that as they moved behind me, cupping my breasts as they wrapped and tied I leaned back into them and sighed because oh, it was good to lean into it. To this new thing. Later they casually brushed a hand over my pubic hair as they were tying. I think it was no accident, though perhaps it was masquerading as one. It felt delicious.  

After that, lying next to each other, stroking, and talking, I was revelling in them. I mean, it was the first time I had touched them like this, with intention, just stroking their skin was incredible. When they said they had wanted this for such a long time I grinned so hard. We touched and stroked and we sort of slotted together a bit, and eventually hands were roaming. They found my cunt, I think. And then, as they were lying on top of me, so close and breathless together, they asked to taste me.

I was very awkward about it. But it was good. I was stroking their hair and their back and anything I could reach. Bunching my fingers in their hair sometimes. And suddenly I just wanted to kiss them so much and I pulled them in and GOD the taste of me on them, and the wetness, and the deliciousness of that kiss it was so passionate and so marvellously hot. I have thought about it so many times since. want to do it all over again. And again. There is not enough kissing. 

And even though I had been nervous about everything that might come next, I didn’t need to be. It felt as natural as anything. Being curious meant I didn’t need all the answers, I didn’t need to know what I was doing, I could ask about anything and everything I needed to. They taught me what they liked, showed me with their fingers, and I found my way and it was SO FUCKING AMAZING!

My body wasn’t perfect. It got tired, fairly quickly. It didn’t matter though. I remember their hand and mine intermingling, touching me together, I remember experimenting with toys, and fingers, and holes. But my arms were too tired, and my body was too tired and even though everything felt amazing I wasn’t able to come.


I don’t know how to separate the feelings of lust, of love and childhood attachment shit. 

I lust for them. All the fucking time. I really really really want them. 

But I think I am also head over heels in love too. I am handling a lot of emotional shit around that because my brain is like ‘yeah but it is one sided’. I think that I find missing someone hard. And I find lusting for someone and missing someone at the same time VERY hard – and maybe that is because of all the times I have been disappointed and hurt in the past. 

It’s a pandoras box. We opened the fucking box, and now the needs and wants are exploded and I feel overwhelmed with it.

I’m holding all these huge feelings of unmet needs and wants and it has nowhere safe to go. And so I am wanting, lusting, loving and also trying to manage the needs which aren’t theirs to meet. It’s a LOT.

September One

I’m going to a DUNGEON! A freakin’ dungeon. I am super excited and over the moon. Nobody in my real life would believe me, and most of them would disown me but I DON’T CARE. I love being brave. 

It was amazing. I am so lucky to have friends like this. Friends willing to transport me, look after me, help me try new things. I had the adrenaline shakes, but I was brave. I experienced wax, and spanking and impact toys and caning, and my friend held my hand through those last two and reassured me and interpreted my hand squeezes and that was good. The cane was very intense. I don’t know how but I didn’t make a noise, I was breathing and in my body, and my voice wasn’t connected. The last five though, I swore after those.

September Two

I have to talk about it. I have to talk about the sheer amazingness and wonder of it. I cannot begin to say how fucking incredible it is. So good, so good, so good.

We hugged and kissed and ate soup, and snuggled on the sofa, talking of likes and dislikes. There was undressing and kisses and stroking and talk of what we like in one another. They roll onto me and we kiss more and I touch them and then they move down away and I make a protesting noise and they carry on, touching me through my knickers, pulling them aside, kissing me and touching me and making me groan and then the cold cold of a metal dildo and it feels exquisite and lovely. I enjoy the sensations for a while. And then. There is fucking. They put on their awesome harness, and I enjoy the sight of them wearing it. They look amazing and powerful, and they come to me and are inside me before I can blink, kissing me and it is such a wonderful feeling to have them fuck me and I love it. We cycle through a few positions, try a few things, and I remember watching their face as I touch myself, watching me, and the way it felt to be seen. They tell me they are addicted to my face when they fuck me already. 

I can’t remember how we got from there to here but now they are lying back and I am kissing their thigh and mons and joking about needing a folder with instructions, and they tell me what they like, and I find that I am addicted to it and I can’t stop and it is wonderful and so much easier than I thought it would be. I slide a finger in them, and then two, and they begin to come undone and they come for the first time. I rest my head on their thigh, and once they have regained their composure I slide in another finger, and they push against me and then another and they groan and tell me they love this feeling, and they push hard, wriggling and easing themselves deeper onto my fingers. I have my thumb in that place they like to the side of their clit and it doesn’t take long for them to come again and they cry out, bite their thumb and shake and it is so beautiful. I carefully add my thumb and I check in and they are good, they are good, and pushing still and reaching for my head and holding my hand and I stroke their fingers as they take my hand inside them and they are so strong, so strong around my hand and I need all my strength to hold my am steady as they push into me and they come again, a final time. I snuggle up to them and we kiss and talk and my fingers taste good.

I ask for some sensation play. I think, I think I just wanted to come, but they are tying me up and putting nipple clamps on – oh, they are new, and they tease me with cold oil and a plug, with a vibe and a dildo and it feels good. I almost come twice, maybe more. We stop, and play with the doxy instead. We place it between us and they press on top of me, pushing into me and writhing against me and we kiss, we kiss so much and it is so so hot and sexy, looking into their face and feeling them against me and the doxy between us, hugging so close and kissing and kissing and kissing. I feel like I could do it forever.

When we stop, they use the doxy on me directly, and I come with them and collapse and hug their legs, resting my head on them as they do on mine and I stroke them and I say the words I’ve wanted to say for months, and they tell me they adore me. 

January postscript

It has been one whole year since I decided I wanted a change. It has been a rollercoaster of an experience, but one I would very much do again. I wasn’t expecting the resurfacing of difficult feelings and emotions, but I hope that I know myself well enough to separate what is past trauma and what isn’t, and able to communicate when I am struggling. I still have wobbles. My mental health is still very fragile, and I don’t know that it is possible for that to change given the way the world is at the moment, and my circumstances. I am very lucky to be exploring alongside some awesome folk who are very understanding of that. I am also very lucky to have some new opportunities and new lovely people in my life with whom I can continue exploring and have new experiences. 

I can’t wait. 

13 thoughts on “Dear Diary”

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *