Blog Feed

Although – A Meditation on Time

Although I have an artist’s boundless curiosity and scholar’s thirst for knowledge….

Although my intellect is still sharp…..

Although my body has aged well…..

Although I dress well…..

Although my aging features are still “interesting”….

Although my libedo is still strong…

Although women still flirt with me….

Although I met Hendrix in 1967……

Although I went looking for Dylan in Woodstock in 1976……

Although I am a curious still exploring man child…..

Time is an onslaught

I cannot ignore……

Time is the task that cannot be completed……

Time is the healing balm that lessens the pain……

Time makes memories out of diamonds and rust….

Times keeps me running to keep up……

Time made me a lover…..

Time made me an artist……

Time made me a liar of me……..

(Or was that just me….?)

Time is neither friend nor enemy…..

Time is the onslaught we can never ignore…….

A Poem to My Mistress – Highgate 1985

You leave me there to take a call

I hear your laughter through the door.

Bound helpless on you Bauhaus couch

Designer steel behind my head

Its Jet black leather cools my back

Pump gag deep inside my mouth

Latex eyes that cannot see

My sex exposed through crochless pants

I wait in silent revelry

For your return to lick my sex

Teasing and denying me

Your helpless latex lover.

A Sexualised Life – post 10 – On Tenderness, Affection and aftercare.

On Tenderness and Affection and aftercare.

Just because love is no longer the core of my sex life does not mean that tenderness and affection are not a huge part of my relationships!

I come from the BDSM community the term which best expresses this is ‘aftercare’, which actually means caring for each other, before during and after having erotic sexual enjoyment in a Sub/playDom role playing situation.

And this process is all about tenderness and affection!

Aftercare seeks to reassure each partner that all is well and tries to prevent stresses and fears of failure building up, as well as attending to the possible physical after effects of whips or paddles or bindings that have left marks.

After care is a period of recovery in which to mutually attend to emotional as well as physical needs of both partners in a caring and sharing way.

It is necessary in part because our sexual fantasies don’t necessarily mirror who we are in our normal lives. A Sub may be dominant in real life and Dom may not be particularly assertive outside role playing!

So each partner may need treating differently outside the role playing scenario. But even if they do align with their public personas, there are other issues to be taken into account in order to normalise relations and come down from highs, or counter a sense of loss after the sexual fantasies have been played out to climax, or not in some cases!

The feelings immediately following a role playing session (‘sub drop,’ or ‘dom loss’) can leave one or both partners with feelings of exhaustion, weakness and even disorientation. This isn’t always the case, or for all people, but it needs to be thought of discussed and acted upon if it does occur.

Aftercare, both physical and emotional, needs great sensitivity, and tenderness from both partners!

Physical aftercare includes removing restraints or blindfolds, and gagets reassuring your partner, making sure they are warm, kissing and/or caressing any part of the body which may have been marked. Above all, it’s about providing affection and comfort in a calm atmosphere.

This should also include humour and laughter. Without this it is harder to talk honestly and cope with anydifficulties that arise, since the ability to laugh at ourselves and with others, is a crucial part of being relaxed, open and honest with each other.

Many of my partners have enjoyed giving and receiving an intimate massage. A shared bath or shower is also fabulous allowing both partners to share in an, intimate, relaxing and cleansing experience.

Emotional aftercare involves discussing how the session went and how both partners feel about it, expressing both positive and negative thoughts. This process is vital for deepening the relationship and supporting each others needs and expectations. It also allows both to reassure each other that their kinks were not weird or perverted. That way any lingering negative feelings of inadequacy and failure can be shared away.

Not everone requires aftercare, but most, including me, do. At the very least a kiss and cuddle should be engaged in in my view. And any serious issues raised should be continued over future days if necessary!

It’s incorrect to assume that aftrcare is exclusively something a Dominant must give to a Submissive! Dom’s can suffer similar feelings of emotional drop and inadequacy in their performance and can require care and reassurances by their partners.

All of this has been central to my recent, and past relationships and continues to be! So while love is not the aim of my erotic sexual affairs, affection and tender aftercare lies at the very heart of my love making!

My Sexualised Life – Post 9 – A Leonard Cohen Song Poem that Speaks to me of My Life

Some poems and songs sum up my life better than I ever can. This Leonard Cohen (another Sexualised man) song does exactly that for me.

I adore the Madeleine Peyroux version from her album Half the Perfect World (2006).

There’s perfume burning in the air
Bits of beauty everywhere
Shrapnel flying, soldier hit the dirt

She comes so close
You feel her then
She tells you No and No again
Your lip is cut on the edge of her pleated skirt
Blue Alert

Visions of her drawing near
Arise, abide, and disappear
You try to slow it down
It doesn’t work

It’s just another night I guess
All tangled up in nakedness
You even touch yourself
You’re such a flirt
Blue Alert

You know how nights like this begin
The kind of knot your heart gets in
Any way you turn is going to hurt

There’s perfume burning in the air
Bits of beauty everywhere
Shrapnel flying, soldier hit the dirt
Blue Alert

She breaks the rules so you can see
She’s wilder than you’ll ever be
You talk religion but she won’t convert

Blue Alert
Blue Alert…

Songwriters: Anjani Thomas / Leonard CohenBlue Alert lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

My Sexualised Life – Post 8 – A Poem Written in Sorrow After the Suicide of a Lover.

Below is a poem written after the death by suicide in 1996 of Sarah, who was the love of my life and my sexusl teacher and guru.

The poem was written in 2002 when I finally realised just how great the impact of her death had been upon me.

It takes the form of of a man seeking to isolate my mind from the pain as expressed in computer jargon.

COMPUTER MORPH

Like Kafka’s insect-man
I am morphing
Into a computer application
A cyberspace bug
Down loaded from the Web

Fearing system-damage
I have taken myself off-line
Powered-down my systems
Compressed and stored myself in
The hard-drive
Isolated myself from the motherboard
Disconnected myself from the server
Configured an auto-saved myself to an external drive
For safer transportation

Archived and backed-up
On standby only
I await a possible return to life
While my off-line status
Buffers me from the main programme

Repeated error messages
Suggest that
All my systems
Are not yet safely closed-down

Is my back-up program still operational?
Can I safely re-boot
From my master cache?
What are my on-line protocols?
Am I case sensitive?
And properly justified?
Am I still emotionally compatible
Or is my data corrupted
And liable to crash/

“Please wait
Until all data is saved to disk
It is now safe to turn off your computer”

My Sexualised Life – Post 7 – It’s Lust, Not Love, That Dives Me Now! Or is it?

Ignore My Last Post!: It’s Lust, Not Love, That Dives Me Now

In my last post I argued that as a highly sexualised person I was still capable of loving my partners in varying degrees, and I even claimed that I actually love too much, becoming infatuated by my multiple and consecutive partners, and caring too much for them for my own good!

However, after reflection overnight and speaking now as the old guy I am, aged 69, I now see clearly that today I seek out my sexual liasons chiefly out of lust.

This is party due to physical age and condition, in the sense that although I still have reasonable good looks and a slim body, time is running out for me and that at some point in the not too distant future my looks and my body will fail me!

So there is a new urgency now to fit in yet more exciting and interesting sexual partners, while my body remains sufficiently attractive and my sexualised mind is alert!

But this is also related to a recognition that as I have grown older I have spent most of my loving emotional capital on past affairs and on my wife Su!

As a result I feel that my recent affairs are much more transactional than they once were! I still need to like and respect my partners, but I don’t have, in any way, to be in an infatuated form of love with them!

I have parked my love and emotional capital with Su and my most significant past affairs, most especially my 1980s partner Sarah who committed suicide in 1996. So while I may no longer able to get sexual satisfaction from Su, in all other respects, and especially in terms of what love is for me, she is my core and my rock!

So I seek out sexual partners to largely to explore and enjoy their bodies and dirty minds and do not invest my energies in deeper emotional ties!

We are there to fuck in the most pleasurable ways we can imagine and invent! We are their to laugh and joke and be friends! But we are not there to love each other!

Was this always so, I wonder? Was my previous blog post simply an intellectual smoke screen for my purely lustful motives and drives?

The answer is that I don’t know the answer.

I may have underestimated the lustful side of my motives in my previous post. But my feeling is that until the last few years I was often driven by a loving infatuation with my new partners, rather than purely by my lustful side.

I have lost touch with every single sexual partner, aside from my present wife and current mistress! If I hadn’t done so, as a good social scientist I would have sent a questionnaire to each and every one of them, asking them to rate me on a scale of 1 to 10! 1 being a lust filled sociopath and 10 a completely loving man.

I would hope, assuming that any of them remember me, that I would rate at least six out of ten for being a loving and caring as well as lust filled sexual partner. But there is no way now to confirm, or deny, this belief.

However, I am almost certain that all my recent partners would say that relations resembled a friendly business deal to maximise sexual pleasure rather than emotional touchy-feelie affairs!

So, on those grounds, my affairs of late have all been largely the result of lust, rather than love.

A Sexualised Life Post 6 – Can highly sexualised people like me experience genuine love?

Can highly sexualised people like me experience genuine love? It’s a fair question.

At first sight it looks as if we can’t, because we can’t commit to monogamous relationships and cheat on our long and even short term partners in the process.

There will, of course, be sociopathic style sexualised, and non-sexualised individuals who can’t experience genuine love, or affection, and who view all relationships as transactional affairs tilted to their self interest alone, including the ones they experience with long term partners.

But I would describe myself as a man who loves too much.

I have adored and in various ways worshipped all the women I have been involved with in my long life. Describing the lusts and lies necessary to seek out and then balance multiple and side-by-side affairs, as described in my last post, is a bloodless way to describe what were all loving relationships on both sides, to various degrees.

Obviously very brief affairs and one-night-stands were not loving in this way and come under conditions of pure sexual gratification.

I almost always fell in love with the women who have bedded me regularly, and have always received some form of love in return. I am, I hope, a caring and attentive man as well as a caring and attentive lover.

But I am also a man of huge sexual lust and capacity who needs to move on from all my sexual relationships to satisfy my cravings.

So I’m not sexually faithful to any one person for any length of time above a few years, and often much less than that. But that does not preclude my loving my partners.

One of the proofs of love is surely how one feels when relationships end, usually in my case, but by no means always, by me.

In every case, except those that ended in mutual anger and recriminations, I have suffered from sensations of remorse, regret and loss and sometimes depression.

In addition, the act of betraying both my still-loved wives, has also caused me huge heartbreak throughout my life.

I bear many emotional scars from my philander lifestyle, many regrets and I have lost many many nights of sleep in an agony of loss, regret and anguish.

In many ways it’s a case of loving the one/s I’m with, truly, madly and deeply. Without that I couldn’t function as a caring lover at all. It may be a love of infatuation but it always feels genuine to me at the time.

My love making would be reduced to mechanical acts of self-gratification otherwise, in which case I might as well have pleasured myself in front of video pornography as far as I’m concerned. Or paid for prostitutes.

In fact, the sense of love I always feel when accompanying and pleasuring any partner I am in a relationship with, is the greatest afrodiziac of all for me.

They have all been my partner’s, my LOVEers, my world, in the stolen dangerous moments we have shared our bodies and minds in the boudoir together.

I have to love and like my partner’s, or there is no spark to create the necessary flame, beyond that of mutual gratification. And when that doesn’t happen I find a way to end the relationships quickly.

Great sex is always about making love, in the moment, and all about exploring new relationships, as well as new bodies, faces and sexual fantasies and tastes.

The huge down side to this is that as a nice, reliable, affectionate and loving guy, the urgent need to move on to another exciting and fresh relationship means being unfaithful both to my wives and to partners in existing affairs.

Has it always worked this way round?

Of course not! I may have broken a lot of women’s hearts, but some of my lovers have broken mine too, leaving me for other partners while I was still infatuated with them. In fact, my heart has been broken on several occasions in the most brutal fashion. If I wasn’t a guy who loves my partners this would never happen.

What is my conclusion?

That one should not mistake infidelity for lack of love. And that one should not necessarily associate it with an exploitative and care-free bastard personality.

I am a very emotional and loving guy. My problem is that I love too much, not too little and that my highly active sexual fantasies driven mind and libedo eventually push me to move on to another partner with all the damage and heartache that causes.

Is all this self- justification alone? I hope not, of course. There are elements of that for sure. But, in the end, that is for others to decide for themselves.

Some will say I lack moral fibre and should have curbed my sexualised side.

All I can say is it’s a pity we can’t swop bodies and personalities for six months, so that they could be me, to see just how difficult that task is.

I doubt many would want to hand my body back in order to regain moral certainty either!

In the end the huge highs I have experienced cancel out all the heartache and pain I have experienced and given my time again I know that I, as me, would do much the same with some changes at the margins.

A Sexualised Life Part 5 – I wonder if my life will be defined, in the end, by my mistakes.

I often wonder if my life will be defined, in the end, by my mistakes.

I have made so many in my life, inspite of rising from humble beginnings to a university professor at a top UK institution, with an international reputation for my research and published works and a strong teaching reputation too.

In 2002 all my chickens came home to roost when I accepted a major, albeit short term of nine months, administrative role as the joint head, with a junior woman colleague, of the Teaching Quality Audit (TQA) of my department by an external panel (a official teaching inspection as in schools).

My younger colleague Philippa was supposed to be the administrative powerhouse with my assistance, but she had a severe chronic life-threatening illness which kept her at home for long periods and the burden of preparing for a department wide TQA inspection, with a maximum mark out of 24 which the university insisted all departments should achieve, and most had, fell largely on me.

Under huge stress, and spending more time than ever away from home, including weekends, I turned once again to my comfort zone and started another torrid relationship with a submissive married, but separated, woman professor from another faculty, who I met on a faculty committee and lied to telling her I was married, but was getting a divorce.

What I didn’t realise at the time was that I had done absolutely nothing to resolve my inner anger and sadness at the death of Sarah back in 1996, and that the stress of heading the TQA preparations was going to intersect with my unresolved inner demons to create the perfect mental storm.

I am normally a slim guy, but I lost three stone in weight in six months (later my students told me that they were all convinced that I was dying of cancer). In fact, I was eating very little, drinking a bottle of wine each evening and engaging in BDSM based sex acts, sometimes twice or three times a night as a Dom with my submissive colleague.

One week before the Inspection, when I had even resorted to sleeping in my office to get my tasks done, I suddenly announced to the woman who was the Joint head of the TQA team, and was now back at work, that I had fallen in love with her, to her utter astonishment! I was convinced that I had although we had hardly seen each other in the office for months, let alone the bedroom!

She told the head of department the following morning, saying I was acting irrationally, which I was, and I was sent home with orders to see my GP, who immediately confirmed I had had a nurvous breakdown and signed me off for six months on full pay.

I have never met the woman professor again. Although we did speak briefly on the phone a few days later, agreeing that the relationship had to end. I also told her the truth about my marriage.

So, suddenly, I was at home for six months, and under orders orders not to engage in any academic writing or research during my recovery. I was also cut off completely from any extramarital sex. Needless to say my masturbation count per day was at least three.

After a couple of weeks, thoroughly bored by watching TV and listening to music on the radio, I was looking through some old watercolour sketches of mine and decided to put one of them on my A3 scanner and see what it looked like on the screen.

I had been drawn and painted since I left school. It was the one talent I had that didn’t require much effort on my part, since I have a photographic mind for visual objects, and for colours and forms. I had also spent decades attending the great galleries of the world on my days off from international and national conferences, and I possessed a large collection of art books, many of whoch I had looked at and read through many times.

In short i was a self-taught autodidact in fine art, able to recognise, understand and discuss in depth the works and techniques of most great artists and art photographers. Most people who had gone to, or taught at art colleges thought I must have at least a first degree in fine art.

As the watercolour came upon my large computer screen, something wonderful happened as I reached for the mouse and using a contrast control tightened the colours in front of me. I was instantly entranced and was soon scanning in and working on nude studies, landscapes and portraits of minr, changing and enhancing them in the computer and printing off the results on my A3 printer.

My life as an erotic artist had begun, albeit without the eroticism as yet! A miracle was occurring in my sexualised life, that would eventually transform it, although I was totally unaware of it at the time. It just seemed at the time to be a fascinating and delightful fill-in occupation, until I returned to my teaching, research and writing in the social sciences.

But the full miracle could only happen if I retired and I was only 52 in 2002. I actually retired in 2006! How that came about is to be explained in my next blog post.

A Sexualised Life Part 4 – Well, no one told me about her……..

I intend to include poems I wrote and the lyrics of songs that have deep associations from my life.

Below are the lyrics of a song by the Zombies which echoed around my head for years after my lover Sarah died. They sums up how I felt at the time and these thoughts preface a future nurvous breakdown I would suffer in 2002 which will be related in a future post.

Well, no one told me about her
The way she lied
Well, no one told me about her
How many people cried
But it’s too late to say you’re sorry
How would I know? Why should I care?
Please don’t bother trying to find her
She’s not there
Well, let me tell you ’bout the way she looked
The way she acts and the color of her hair
Her voice was soft and cool
Her eyes were clear and bright
But she’s not there
Well, no one told me about her
What could I do?
Well, no one told me about her
Though they all knew
But it’s too late to say you’re sorry
How would I know? Why should I care?
Please don’t bother trying to find her
She’s not there
Well, let me tell you ’bout the way she looked
The way she acts and the color of her hair
Her voice was soft and cool
Her eyes were clear and bright
But she’s not there
But it’s too late to say you’re sorry
How would I know? Why should I care?
Please don’t bother trying to find her
She’s not there
Well, let me tell you about the way she looked
The way she acts and the color of her hair
Her voice was soft and cool
Her eyes were clear and bright
But she’s not there