No Song In My Heart? Sing Anyway.

Nothing could have prepared me for the sense of loss and abandonment that I felt when he vanished. It is hard remembering how difficult I found the first few weeks. I had given part of me to this man, he’d put a song in my heart. Or turned up the volume on the tunes already playing. Then he left, the speakers smashed with his exit. Aside from sending him the email I didn’t really know what to do, so I continued with my rules and tasks. I can see how that may read to others; why would I keep on when he had disappeared?? Honestly, it makes little sense, even now, except that I was floundering. I had no idea how to transition back to “normal”, or if he would pop up and say it was a test and I should have carried on, or….

At the time I needed the routine of the tasks, looking back I’m so pleased I kept on.

I had told him early on that I was curious about being bi-curious, and I would never have had the courage to explore that side of me without his tasks. I had been building in confidence, flirting and had even scened with another woman and her husband. If I hadn’t I’d not tried to find the notes again I’d never have met her.

E was a woman who wanted to put the song back into my heart.

She wanted to help me learn to sing her songs. When I started talking to E she was a breath of fresh air. Her fabswingers profile stated she was a highly sexed lesbian looking for no strings fun. About 5 weeks after sir went P was working nights, and the boys were in bed… E arrived at my door, 6 feet tall, slim, blonde and giddy. She had brought a bottle of wine with her, and a bag of toys. Knowing that I was very inexperienced but keen, she was excited to be playing with me.

A couple of glasses of wine later and the proverbial singing lesson began.

She was very caring and gentle, she was also very appreciative of my efforts. E shared her love of oral, scissoring and a strap-on. She was very attentive with her mouth, and when we swapped she was clean and smooth, not scented with urine which was a step up from the last time. I decided then that I only wanted to go down on smooth women. Scissoring was something I had never come across before, it was clumsy and awkward and I still don’t understand how it works in a pleasurable way.

Now, the strap on was something different for me too. I had never seen one before and had no idea what they were meant to look like or feel like. The one that she brought (and enjoyed) was, I believe, a vibrator sheath attachment for the harness. It didn’t enter me and I found it a little disappointing. I wondered why people would rather this than a beautiful cock, I had much to learn! She went wild though, loving every minute that it slid over her. I have since googled and seen in person other strap-ons, and I would love to try it again, with a woman who is less vanilla. And maybe with less wine! (Edit: Jan 2023, I’m the proud owner of a harness or two, and a lover of strap on sex!)

When she left to go home I was so proud of myself.

I had pushed through a boundary and enjoyed myself. With a willing partner I had explored new areas and tried new toys. I was still stuck with the thought that this must mean I am a lesbian, that perhaps P had been right all along, that the reason I hadn’t wanted sex with him was because I wanted to sleep with women. And I didn’t have the option of contacting sir, to tell him all about it. To sing him the new verse to the song in my heart. There was always a request for feedback following each scene or challenging task. Not only did it give him feedback on my thoughts and feelings, but it was also a positive thing for me to reflect and digest what had happened.

Now though, I didn’t have that outlet, that form of after-care if you like. 

This was an important learning point for me. That I would need to figure out a new way to process my wandering mind after new experiences and intense sessions. I’m nothing if not tenacious so this was a welcome puzzle for me, a distraction from what else had been going on in my life at the time. I just had to figure out how to embrace this new world on my terms, without an abusive husband calling the shots or my wonderful Dominant guiding the way. The first one I couldn’t wait to see the back of, and the other, Sir, I missed with every aching ounce of my being.

My mind was working again, and I was setting the rules. There would always be a song in my heart. Maybe it wasn’t all bad…

This is the latest chapter in the story behind the blog. If you’ve not read any before you can dip in and out of the posts or start at the beginning. The next post can be found here. Please do subscribe (in the sidebar) if you want to stay up-to-date.