Subday…

It has been a bit of a lazy Sunday…though my Ægir’s Bride fans will be happy to know that I did write more today. Sven and Bjorn had words actually. Since I am being lazy, I will simply tease you a bit with some of what Sven has to say to his ‘baby’ brother:

Sven or Atlas as Kirsty thinks of him
Sven or Atlas as Kirsty thinks of him

“Here is a bit more of honesty for you. Do you think that you can bait us? Draw me and Mikael into this mess that I watched almost tear my uncles apart and then just change your fucking mind? Neither one of us would have objected if you wanted to marry her the ‘normal’ way. Hell, we would have danced at your fucking wedding.”

“But if you think you are the only one that has acquired a taste for that sweet, tight cunt of hers, then you are crazy. And if you think that either Mikael or I are going to just move aside so you can have her all to yourself…go fuck yourself, baby brother. You started this…so fucking learn to live with it.”

He drew in a deep cleansing breath and forced his hands to loosen from the fists that he had been clutching at his sides, “So move the fuck out of my way…in more ways than one, baby brother.”

On and half the time when I try to type Sunday on my phone…it comes out Subday. Think that is some kind of Freudian slip?

Oh, well Happy Subday to you…hope it was good.

Dealing with the junk…

Dispassionately facing your past and cleaning out junk is not as easy as it is to clean out files on your computer. It is much harder than simply click and delete.

Last night I cleaned some photos out of my Dropbox. I deleted hundreds of photos…many sexually explicit. Most I deleted simply because I did not like how I looked in them. But still there are more than a hundred very naughty photos in that folder. Things that while I will not be ashamed of…neither am I likely to share with anyone else. I kept those photos, even the ones with lovers who hurt me deeply for one reason…for good or for bad, they are my story. Who I am.

Yesterday my friend the videographer also sent me the final cuts of the video that we shoot last weekend. Honestly, I have shown it to only two dear friends…because I am embarrassed by it. Only slightly because of the body issues that I talked about earlier. The truth is that it perfectly tells the story I wanted…of my Madonna and my whore. It is powerful…perhaps too much so. Especially the whore part.

I am not ready…and never maybe to show you that video but here is the music that goes with it…

Then this morning, I took another of those stupid FaceBook quizzes. I was off the fucking chart. Literally the FUCKING chart. Most women my age…close to 90% of them have had less than ten lovers. My number…more than twenty times that. How does that make me feel?

I am not someone that believes in regrets. Although as another of my favorite songs say…”regrets I’ve had a few, but then again too few to mention.” As I always tell my children…it is not the things which you do that you regret but the ones you don’t. And I believe that.

Honestly, I have only two fantasies left…one raunchy…and the other perhaps impossible. How many people can say that? Who knows maybe for my birthday, I will treat myself to the raunchy one…just to finish off my sexual bucket list.

I received an email from one of my Literotica fans the other day…basically he was saying that he would never in this lifetime achieve the type of heart-felt writing that I do. I messaged him back that was not necessarily a bad thing as my writing comes from pain…lots of it. But it also comes from all those experiences…there are not many things which I write about which I have not tried myself…that makes writing them way easier.

But still…what keeps me from posting that video…what haunts me every night as I cuddle my purple unicorn alone in my bed…what, yes, makes me sad if not regretful is that all those numbers…and not once with HIM. My Sergeant Mike. My Daniel. My Sven, Mikael, Bjorn. Not once with someone my equal, someone that I honestly want to spend the rest of my life with. Forget them…my Olaf. That best friend, lover and husbands who knows you better than you know yourself. That is what I mean when I sing that song…

Spent a life time exploring the subtle whoring that costs too much to be free…

I’ve been to paradise but I’ve never been to me…

And I may never…which may be the real power by the words I write. Although I sure as hell would like to give it a try the other way…lol.

I like my men tortured…

No, the little sub has not gone all Domme on you. I did not say that I liked to torture my men. Just that I like them tortured. Scarred even. Whether those scars be physical or emotional.

The other week, I shared with you my favorite Dom/sub from television…Khal Drago and Daenerys Targaryen. So it won’t surprise you that today my top list of the men I’d take as lovers…also come from the show Game of Thrones. Actually the reason is…that is the only television show or book I have time to read right now between writing, editing and PanKwake. So maybe there are others… but you are stuck with Game of Thrones until I finish it…and only into Season 3 of the show and the second book so far. You ready for this…

3) Jorah Mormont – Poor Jorah…in love with Daenerys, but who can possibly fill Khal’s shoes…wait boots…how about saddle? So he is friend-zoned. That actually reminds me of a cartoon I saw on Facebook the other day. This woman said a prayer something along the lines of…I want a boyfriend, who is kind, sweet and caring. Down flies this angel with a note that…you friend-zoned him, bitch. And that is poor Jorah’s story…an ex-wife who only wanted his money and a love that is unattainable. His scars are emotional. But when I took this silly test to find my ideal man came up as Jorah…because of loyalty…but all these guys have that in spades….so…

Yeah...scars are sexy on men.
Yeah…scars are sexy on men.

2) Tyrion Lannister – with quotes like…”The mind needs books like the sword needs a whetstone,” “Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armor and it can never be used to hurt you,” and “Death is so final. Life is full of possibilities” who could not love the man? The truth is that he is a perfect balance to me. Like Ned Stark, I am too honorable for my own good sometimes. But Tyrion…he is just as idealistic but tempered with logic, prudence and realism. As a result, he gets things accomplished while Ned and I get our heads chopped off. And besides ladies, come on a dwarf…he could fuck you and still be in the perfect position to suck your tits at the same time. Or better yet…think about where his mouth is going to fall when standing up? Right at the perfect level to…snack, shall we say. But hands down…

1) The Hound (Sandor Clegane) – Oh, yes the most scarred of them all, folks. Imagine…half your face burned away as a child…by your brother…for playing with his toy…that he did not even want anymore. Then imagine living with those scars while he gets the titles, the glory and the family home. Imagine serving a bratty prince…doing things you had to simply because you were following orders. But still through all that…the man finds a way to protect as much of the innocents as he can. Even when they do not appreciate it, even when they cannot stand to look at him, even when they hate him. Oh hell yeah, you keep your wolves in sheep’s clothing…give me a bad ass sheep in wolf’s clothing any day.

Not that any of my guys in Ægir’s Captive/Bride would be like that? Heaven forbid…

Oh, and since he got his hand chopped off, woke up a bit to reality…you can add Jaime Lannister to the list at number 4…hell, Kirsty ain’t the only one with a thing for brothers…I’ll take both Tyrion and Jaime. At the same time…oh, wait, Kirsty and her men ain’t got around to those good bits yet. But I am sure they will.

Touch Myself…

Okay…so busy today writing intensely emotional Petrine/Rachel crap for Ægir’s Bride that I am late with my blog…and borrowing from FaceBook. (If you have not friended me there…follow my link or https://www.facebook.com/tara.neale.author). But today another of my delightful writer friends…and the girl may have a mouth as big as mine…had this on her feed:

Oh please let it be true!
Oh please let it be true!

So…girls…are you practicing all those 7 Types of Female Orgasms that I wrote about last month? Guys too? Though you don’t get 7…hmmm, maybe another series on the male orgasm? What you think?

I will never forget my 47th birthday. My older daughter and I went to the West End. She bought me a haircut…way too expensive one. Then we went to a late lunch at Fridays. We had the most amazing waitress. A woman about my age with rainbow…pink/purple/blue hair. She did not even mind when we kept hanging around people watching and chatting while we waited for the play to begin.

Anyway, she overheard us talking about sex…well, actually me not getting any since I had left my ex. We joked about masturbation being the only sex I got. And her answer was such a prize…she quoted someone the gist of which was that masturbation was sex with someone you love and respect every single time. I have never forgotten that.

So here I am three years later back to celibacy…or as much of it as this girl can handle…because I suppose true celibacy would mean no masturbation either…and I could never do that. Oh by the way, a little birdie told me that May is Masturbation Month.

So here is another song to celebrate…

Celebrate Masturbation with love…self-love. Of course, if you are lucky enough to be in a couple or more some…no reason that you cannot celebrate together. I so love watching a man wank.

Secrets of another kind…

Chapter 6 of Ægir’s Bride posted to Literotica this morning. It contains one of the most intense love scenes I have ever written. The only ones even close are Sergeant Mike and Esther (Esther’s Story). And I was talking with my friend and editor about this story that just keeps snow balling and stretching. I told him…

I realize I have a niche (audience) for whom I am one of the few writers who produce what they want to read. Because…

I do not write erotica.

I do not write romance.

I do not write erotic romance.

I write…life…love…laughter….and pain.

There always has to be pain. How else would you truly and honestly value the others?

Oh, don’t get me wrong. There will always be loads of hot primal sex. Kink that is not about role playing games but deep dark needs that are as much a part of them as breathing.

My writing is so full of raw fucking emotions that sometimes I feel like I must either get it out or drown in it.

I write relationships. Not the head games and mind fucks that we do to one another and call relationships. I write about people’s struggles to be open and honest…not just with their lover but themselves.

If looking at our bodies is hard enough, then our examining our souls is like looking in a funhouse mirror...at a long twisting path that we do not even know where it ends.
If looking at our bodies is hard enough, then our examining our souls is like looking in a funhouse mirror…at a long twisting path that we do not even know where it ends.

And that is hard folks…to stand in front of an emotional mirror and look at all those scars and emotional fat weighing you down. That is even harder to come to terms with than a mere piece of glass and the flawed body that you see in it.

But those…secrets of another kind…are worth examining and exploring too.

Thank all of you, who take that journey with me. Thank you for your votes and your comments at Literotica. Thank you for your emails and your tweets. Thank you for being strong enough, willing enough to take this journey into the depths of Helveti with me. Sometimes I think that the only path to Valhalla goes straight through it.

I do need to let you know…the story will be slowing a bit…the emotions that these characters are expressing are intense. Where once I could write three thousand words in a single day, now it is little more than half that. Which most authors would still think is a good pace. So expect the remaining chapters of Bride to come at about one per week…sorry. But it is not just hours in the day, but emotional wells running dry too. But hang in there…it will get done. Otherwise they will drive me insane running around in my head…and trust me the surprises are just starting, folks.

Secrets…

I just finished one of the most powerful love scenes I have ever written. And, ladies, boy, does Bjorn have a surprise for you…I know I was shocked as shit when he told me. But the reason…what brought it all out in the open…was simple. His wife’s insecurities. The truth was that Kirsty could not accept his love, because she could not love herself. The harder truth is that she is not alone. Most of us cannot.

I freely admit that as hard as I work at it…it still kicks my ass. I have had younger lovers…I have ‘batted’ way above my average as the saying goes. But as intelligent, caring and seemingly confident as I am…the hardest words for me to ever obey with a Dom is…’Get naked.’ Every single time I hear those words, I cringe. They bring out my brat as I try to think of someway of diverting him, delaying him, getting his mind away from that. I am too fucking submissive to actually say no, but those words make me want to ‘red’ more than pain ever will.

Oh, I write about men like Bjorn, Daniel and Samuel (The Arrangement). Men, who see and value the inner beauty more than the outer. But try as hard as I like…that seems like nothing more than a fairy tale. Something that is simply too good to be true. ‘Real’ men are not like that. That is what those voices in my head whisper to me. What do they whisper to you?

Because the truth is that the society in which we live has an exceedingly narrow view of ‘beauty.’ And no matter how many times I play this song…I still think… Lucky bitch, you have one of the few ‘good’ men.

But that is a lie too…our men have their own insecurities. The truth is that human beings find being open, vulnerable and yes, naked with one another difficult. But the only way we are ever going to come to terms with that…is being honest with one another.

So, good morning, I am Tara…and I hate my tummy.

I love my green eyes that tell you everything I am thinking and feeling. I love my hair that even though I color the greys it remains so soft and thick that my lovers always love pulling it or simply running their fingers through it. I love my legs that still look good in a mini-skirt. I love my butt that even at fifty is still firm and spankable. I love my intelligent mind and my caring, open and honest heart. I even love my idealism.

But as long and genuine as that list is…when I look in the mirror…the only fucking thing I can see is the one thing I don’t like. Everything between my boobs and my pussy. I have spent money I don’t have on corsets in the hopes that I can distract the man I am with. Hell, for the longest time, I made ‘naked’ a hard limit for that very reason.

I hate the muffin top…that horrid name for the rolls of fat and skin that hang over your pussy. The ones that no amount of sit ups or dieting will ever completely alleviate once you have born a child. Even though I would not trade my children to have my old body back, neither can I bring myself to love this ‘badge of courage’ that I now wear for their existence.

I hate the nasty thick red/pink scar from my gall bladder surgery. The surgery that saved my life so I can go on loving my kids, writing my books and hopefully one day even find a man that can accept the things about me that I cannot accept about myself.

And I hate that I hate myself…that it matters so fucking much to me…

What do you hate about you? Let’s be honest, because that is the first step in healing.

What Memorial Day Really Means…

I have been searching through the web and my FaceBook for the right pic or saying to express what I want to this Memorial Day. I cannot find it. Everything I find is god bless America, has a bible or war. And that is not me. So I decided to tell you what Memorial Day is to me…

I am a pacifist at heart. I want to believe in a utopia where we have all evolved and peace, harmony and love reign. But I know that as a species few can match the viciousness of homo sapiens. So I recognize that we need someone to defend and protect us.

I am not sure what I am anymore, but pagan comes as close as I can find. So Memorial Day is not about some male god who spends three-quarters of the bible judging and smiting then sends this lamb to the slaughter. Not that I don’t believe in Jesus…I do. Historical evidence is there…prophet, good man…like I said I don’t know what I am. But I know that churches/religion forget who he was and what he taught.

It is not even about the flag, patriotism or America. I have been gone from ‘home’ so long I do not know if it even is anymore. I do remember what my Papa Curt said to me when I was fifteen, ‘You can never appreciate America until you have seen other countries.’ And I do…I miss things. I am just not sure if those things are real anymore.

It sure as hell ain’t about conservative or liberal, Republican or Democrat. That was the problem though, I would find a sentiment that I liked and then click on the link and it would take me someplace that was against everything else that I believed in.

It is not about war either. Whether those wars are just (not that the idealist in me is even sure that such as thing exists) or for greedy or political reasons. I was a child of Vietnam. I remember those horrid pictures on television and the nasty names they called soldiers returning. I have walked in peace protests…and I would again. But that does not mean I do not respect those who serve.

So this is a big THANYOthe men, women and families, who are just doing their job.

Who know that all those FREEDOMs like gay marriage or the right to protest it…there is nothing FREE about it.

To those who give their all then come home to discover that their country has taken it all for granted.

To those who paid the ultimate price for our rights…and the mothers, fathers, brothers, sisters, wives and especially the children they left behind.

To those who wake in their beds at night shaking, who still smell, taste, hear and see it all in their dreams. 

You are what this day is about…not our country, not the flag, not a political party or ideology…YOU!

May the Goddess (or whoever/whatever you believe in) bless, keep and heal you and yours each and every day.

This is especially dedicated to those whom I know and care about who have or are serving (be that USA or UK)…

Papa Curt (US Navy retired – Vietnam): We may have shared no blood, I might have been a teenager before you became the closest thing to a grandfather I ever knew, but you showed me something about love…you never gave up on Gran-Gran or that awkward, shy teenage girl that always was looking for a man to fill the whole that her father left in her heart when he went out for cigarettes and never came back. You taught me as much in the way you died as you did in the way you lived. I hope you have found peace.

Y3N (whatever that means) Jeff (US Navy): My beloved eldest, do you have any idea how proud I am of the man you have become? I know that I have nicknamed (yet again) Mister Stability, but I say that with pride and love. I know that your job is not always glamorous or easy, but it is necessary…and I appreciate you for being the type of man who not only does it, but does it with his whole heart…and does it right. Oh, and you have damned good taste in women too.

Marco (USMC retired Iraq/Afghanistan): The man who showed me that I had not lost my mojo after a disastrous marriage that left me feeling like half a woman. I know that we were on different paths in this life, that we could never be what the other needed. But those three weeks truly were Olympian for me thanks to you. In the words of Dolly Parton…I hope you find all that you dream of, but above all this I wish you love.

Dave (British special forces…he’d have to kill you if he told you): My best friend’s husband…you who showed me what it truly meant to be a Master when you knelt so protectively at the feet of your sub, your wife of twenty eight years and the mother of your children. Even if I never know that kind of love for myself, you showed me a glimpse of heaven on this earth.

Myker (British Army retired Afghanistan): My friend and ‘baby’ Dom…you know though I say that with love…there is nothing baby about you. You know more about being a loving, caring Dom and Master than men twice your age…and we both know that. I wish above all else that you find a sub worthy of your gift of Domination…and able to manage your sadistic fuck side too. Tall order though it is.

MJ (Royal Marines): My new friend, editor and bit of a mentor. Thank you for challenging me to be a better writer, but even more than this…thank you for being a friend.

Sean (USMC retired Iraq): I never know what to say about you. To call you my friend never seems to cover it. How about I simply say…one day I want to know, truly know, this thing between us…one way or the other. For now…thank you for being there when sub brain kicks my ass.

And if I missed you…do not be ashamed to comment or message me. Remember I am getting older so remind me.

Sorry to my Brit friends…but no one has written a specific song…but this one is for you too…just say a Brit soldier…the colors as still red, white and blue anyway.