The Spinster's Exploits

Sex, sensuality and possibly spanking after seventy…

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The Spinster is a 70-year-old South Walian who doesn’t believe sex, sensuality and fun stop at seventy. There is more to growing old disgracefully than wearing purple 💜- although she does love purple! She considers herself to have dual sexuality as she loves vanilla but something gets unleashed when she is spanked by the right person… She is excited to have reached this significant milestone and thrilled to discover erotic possibilities can be there for the taking. Oh! And she can be a touch up herself and talk about herself in the third person – but nothing a good spanking won’t cure!😉🤭

  • The Spinster meets the swingers…

    I was once between relationships and ended up agreeing to go to a sex party. This is how it happened:

    At 29 I met – and confused – some West Country Swingers. I religiously bought and read Forum magazine to keep me informed and open-minded, but my alternate sexuality as a wannabe spankee was still well under wraps. One day I saw an ad from a man wanting to meet open-minded women for friendship. His ad had a number and I rang – the first woman to do so. I suspect Steve hoped for more, but the chemistry wasn’t there for me, so we met as friends for evenings out.

    I knew he wanted to go to sex parties but as a single man he wouldn’t be welcome. Now I happen to be a very nosy cow and have I already said that sex fascinates me? So I agreed to be Steve’s partner for such an event. We went to a pre-party meet with the hosts and several other new couples. At 29 I was the youngest and from memories and photos at my peak of attractiveness – as well as being a dab hand with the make-up brushes! I got a lot of attention, particularly from the host. Steve and I explained I wasn’t interested in partaking of activities but happy to be there. This seemed a little confusing to our hosts but was accepted. I said I wanted the experience to socialise with liberal-minded people and Steve wanted to be part of things.

    And it did seem all terribly liberal and ethical – all based on consent – and very civilised. Then at some point Steve realised we were missing a couple of people – a man from one relationship and a woman from another… Our host leapt up in pursuit and returned rather miffed as they were in a bedroom with a locked door! With reassurances that I didn’t have to join in we were accepted for the next party subject to a financial contribution to food and drink.

    The evening came and I was very excited. I wore a basque top and layered skirt and stockings and a suspender belt – sexy underwear always made me feel good even when keeping my knickers on!

    Our fellow guests were mainly in their forties and fifties and – ordinary – but nicely dressed tending to the sexy as perhaps for a hot date. I got into a conversation with a handsome and fascinating business man who’d started life as a Barnardo’s boy and politely refused his offer for a trip upstairs. Meanwhile our host started muttering darkly in earshot about the possibility of me accepting – so much for consent and liberal values!

    The atmosphere changed as an older couple sashayed in – he bollock-naked and she in nothing but heels, pearls and hat. Apparently, they were well known in certain circles. At some point she disappeared upstairs, and this tall, naked man approached me. I politely refused and he asked why I was there. I said to meet people and thought consent was central. He immediately agreed and so I found myself sharing a large armchair with a naked man in his sixties who proceeded to tell me how much he loved his new wife!

    He had been in a joyless marriage with little sex and then widowed. His new partner introduced him to the joy of sex and sexual adventures. He was besotted with her but also loved their sexual adventures. He was a genuine sexual liberal and a gracious human being. He lived up to my ideas of true sexual liberation.

    I noted that those that had wandered off upstairs tended to come back with just slightly less clothing on their return – mainly their shoes and socks for the men. Mrs Barnardo’s Boy consented to go upstairs with my escort Steve, and more daringly returned nonchalantly in her slip – very 50s glamour somehow! I must admit to inward secret giggles as I thought back to teenage ‘parties’ and get togethers when someone’s parents were away… I was relieved that Steve got his action and despite several trips upstairs I did feel mein host was keeping an inappropriately beady eye on me… And that was it – So much for The Spinster meets the swingers!

    I wrote the above during the Covid epidemic and it was only this weekend that I realised what a change of perspective I’ve had since turning seventy this year and being in my current “relationship”/situation. If and when my lover and I get to such an event, I would definitely be up for “play”! Hence this particular blog that let my lover off the hook!

    Luckily, by Sunday we decided it was safe to kiss and enjoyed some gorgeous snogs and other attentions during a lovely lie-in celebrating the clocks going back – although the extra hour seemed to have disappeared… And ten it was time to watch more “Lucifer” in between cooking Sunday dinner (me) and gardening (him) – we are so fifties household in a “straight” way sometimes that it makes me giggle when I think about the nature of our relationship.

  • “You don’t have to have sex with me,,,”

    …The words I whispered to my lover on the way to the loo in the pub. He immediately burst out laughing and said I should blog my words – so I have!

    And now for the context. He arrived for a weekend with a stinking cold and gave me the option of not seeing him, but I enjoy our weekends and was happy to entertain him. I cooked for us both and we cuddled, played on our phones and watched lots of “Lucifer” – and we were both having a lovely time. We’d not had a proper snog let alone anything more and I was more than happy.

    We tore ourselves away from the TV on the Saturday afternoon and went for a walk that happened to pass by the pub where we met, and we decided to stop for a drink.

    We then started talking about us, our situation, relationship and attitudes. It seems he’d told his Mistress I was – by my own admission – rubbish with a cane! She’d offered me lessons on him – a double Domme-ing session! My first reaction had been amusement, but on second thoughts I wondered if it was something he’d enjoy. I’m enjoying BDSM-lite but She is the real thing and we do discuss their sessions as it’s part of who and what he is. While not “my thing” I love to give him pleasure – as he does me, so I’d be happy to give it a go if he’d enjoy it. But I knew it may also be a bit weird for him as well. He is equally concerned that I don’t do anything I don’t enjoy, but fun and pleasure and reasonable boundary-pushing are our guiding principles so I wouldn’t consider it if I wasn’t ok with it.

    And – as happens – I was reflecting on this unexpected “relationship” we appear to have found ourselves in – a polyamorous-friends-with-benefits-who-are sort-of-dating couple! I didn’t expect to be happily open – and not jealous – with someone with whom I had such a bond – especially at seventy! I then remembered a chap I met who was in his sixties when I was twenty-nine at a sex party. I thought at the time he was fabulous, and I admired him, and understood, but at the time I could not never imagine ever being polyamorous. I decided I wanted to blog about this as I realised I could now totally empathise with his choices although our paths are very different.

    So I had a blog subject and was amused by the idea that my recovering but fragile lover – who was being careful to try not to give me his cold – could be let off the hook of sexual duties! I love our sex life, and I love the reflection that writing about it gives me, as well as providing a lovely record of the fun I’m having. I – of course – do not require regular “servicing” for material!

  • More than moaning…

    I couldn’t resist moaning about him moaning about me moaning – but I had a fabulous weekend with him – as usual.

    He’d arrived tired on the Friday and so I stripped out of my fancy lingerie and we just got straight into bed after the obligatory cuppa and he soon perked up enough to give me some delightful attention.

    We had a lovely day on Saturday with some culture and walking on a visit to St Fagans – a wonderful part of the Museum of Wales with lots of amazing buildings taken from all over the country and rebuilt brick by brick and stone by stone in a delightful setting. And as a bonus they were celebrating Diwali with ten years of working with the Hindu community so we got to see some amazing dancing as well as lots of fabulous buildings.

    We visited the wonderful Oakdale Institute and sat and watched the film about its history and removal to St. Fagans. At the end we found ourselves alone upstairs and I couldn’t resist – I just whacked him on his arse. The sound and his utter surprise were both very satisfying and got me giggling. Apparently it was disrespectful – who knew?

    As the day wore on I got the impression he found me rather disrespectful in all sorts of ways – he does have high standards or a fragile ego, I guess…

    On Sunday morning he decided to do something about all this disrespect and decided to have a go with my amateur bondage kit on me – I pleaded the cold weather and he took pity on me but decided to warm me up anyway! As I obediently got over the cushion I was lectured on my lack of respect and just couldn’t stop giggling as he once again managed to use practically every toy in my toybox on me.

    I hate to have to admit it – but he is far better with the cane than me – his lesson from his Mistress was paying dividends as I was paying for my alleged disrespect. And somehow the warmth in my bum took over from the coolness of the room. Not sure if I learnt anything, but it was great fun and hot as hell.

    And being a true gent he gave me lots of wonderful attention as my trusty vibe hit the spot. I returned the favour and we both played with his cock which was both eager and holding back, but worth the wait. Licking cum off my lover’s fingers and spreading it over me was a very sexy ending before he kindly did some gardening for me and I cooked us a roast dinner – another average day for a pair of South Wales village pensioners!

  • Lingerie makes you moan…

    …and not in a good way – more like a Moaning Minnie!

    Men are so unappreciative!

    There I was in a very nice dress and my fancy bra, knickers and suspender belt with fishnets and full of an amazing Greek meal when I collapsed onto the sofa for a bit more “Lucifer” and just HAPPENED to have a TINY gripe about my bra digging into me. I started to say I shouldn’t wear lingerie because it gets uncomfortable when he immediately commented I shouldn’t wear it because it makes me moan! Well! Talk about ingratitude! I have threatened him with my granny nightie and he seemed quite blasé about it and survived an airing of said nightie.

    I love my frills and furbelows but skin on skin is wonderful although now it’s getting cooler he’s threatening me with his winter night attire… Oh dear…

  • Netflix, Cooking, Sex and a Dog…

    What a weekend – as a now fully-paid-up (figurative) member of the Ethical Slut Movement, I am – for the first time – open to the idea of a threesome. I just didn’t expect it to be with my sister’s dog!

    Don’t panic – consent was not an issue as Billy the dog was on top of the bed and we were under the quilt, so no debauchery took place. The fact that said dog managed to worm his way up the middle, ensured a night of decorum. I believe there was an old Welsh custom called ‘bundling’ where courting couples went to bed together but with a divider/bundling board for prevention of actual sex. Billy makes a great bundling board and hogs the quilt! An unusual night for my lover and me…

    So – this weekend was one of dog-sitting for me and a beer festival for him, but he was visiting Saturday through to Sunday afternoon.

    Saturday was pretty chilled once he recovered from his journey of storm-induced diversions and travelled the back lanes of South Wales. We chilled, took Billy for a walk and watched a lot of ‘Lucifer’ on Netflix. We both like quirky stuff and I’d loved ‘Lucifer’ – and now he does, too!

    We did manage a rather lovely discreet session Sunday morning ignored by a dozy Billy on the bedroom floor – I’d fed him before going back to bed for a cuddle. Billy was impervious to our kissing and teasing, my vibe and a rather lovely fuck but seemed a little disconcerted by the spontaneous slapping of my bottom by my playful lover. I don’t think he was traumatised, as he returned to his post-food coma…

    So – there I was cooking Sunday dinner, when my lover could resist no longer and we ended up watching another episode of ‘Lucifer’. And I jokingly accused him of only being with me for my Netflix when he quickly added my cooking and I realised no mention of sex! So I quickly added it in mock offence. We both decided the sex was excellent and I was reminded with some amusement of my initial anxieties about a sub man’s possible interest in sex…

  • Bondage for beginners Part 2 Erratum

    Erratum – Doh! Was week before Storm Amy – my memory was playing up – I am seventy you know…

  • Bondage for beginners – Part 2…

    Well – as usual – the first challenge is – what shall I wear?! My lover seems to think I’m rather into roleplay – can’t think why…

    I decided on a change of tone with the underpinnings – I have some rather nice bra and knicker sets I never wear nowadays so thought I’d get one out of the metaphoric mothballs. It’s purple with red ribbon and worked well with the black suspender belt and matching stockings. I wore a knee length black and white skirt and sensible white blouse – quite business-y I thought – finished off with high strappy red wedges.

    I had been thinking a lot about delivering a cold caning on the very convenient bucket chair and was looking forward to his arrival. Thanks to Storm Amy he was late and discovered new highways, byways and dodgy lanes of South Wales but got here suffering only limited trauma.

    Reader – I have to admit – I am total crap with a cane! He was a fabulous target. I am left-handed but tried both hands with various canes and held at different points. But I was somewhat chaotic in my strokes. Luckily he has reassured me of his hardiness and ability to endure some eye-watering stuff, so I did no harm – was just cack-handed figuratively as well as literally!

    I do however feel somewhat hoist on my own petard as my words come back to haunt me…

    “While I think safety and common sense are important, I don’t think one needs a safety certificate to smack a bottom! So my advice is play safe and have fun, but don’t feel you have to attend a masterclass before you can experiment. On the other hand, if you do fancy a masterclass fetish fairs and events can oblige!”

    His Mistress’s lesson to him on cane-wielding has served him well, but I like to think my scattergun approach has a certain charm and I did turn his arse a fabulous shade of red!

    And I certainly laid excellent foundations for further attacks across my lap with hairbrush, bath brushes and paddle. He is far quieter and more stoic than me, but I got the odd pleasing yelp.

    And then it was time for my second go at bondage. He looked fantastic spreadeagled across my bed and over my cushion with the cane resting along the groove of his arse and neatly dissecting the cheeks and his balls. His obvious Wicked Willy of a cock did spoil the lovely symmetry, but I’m not one to complain – especially after such an erratic caning! The redness of his bottom was not obviously as asymmetric as could be expected from  my lack of precision and skill.

    It was wonderful teasing and beating a spreadeagled and well-secured lover and while I can’t imagine being a rigger or rope bunny, tying someone up to play with them is amazingly satisfying. And I was much better with my other hitty toys than the canes. Luckily I have plenty of them…

    And of course it is great fun releasing a man from bondage to pleasure me.

    I couldn’t resist a photo of him in his bonds. And put it in my secure folder after his approval and sending him a copy via Whattsap. Was a bit of a surprise when there he was in all his glory next time I messaged him! So we both deleted and he rests cosily in our secure folders…

  • Bondage for beginners…

    …well – I guess a girl has to start somewhere – and this girl is 70 and very excited at having bought her second bondage kit – but this time she was going to christen it on someone else!

    I don’t really ‘get’ bondage – but know some lovely people who do – including my gorgeous polyamorous switchy lover who mainly identifies as a sub man and who happens to enjoys spicy vanilla with me – and I think that may qualify for the “it’s complicated…” relationship category! He (Gorgeous poly etc…)had a perfectly lovely time shackled and alone in an uncomfortable position for about an hour or so on his recent visit to his Mistress. The kink community have a fabulous motto – Your kink, not my kink but ok – and this is one of those for me. I’m delighted he is getting what he wants.

    But – being restrained for a beating or for erotic play and/or fucking? Bring it on! I joke about enjoying ‘bondage-lite’ and being restrained as outlined. I have ties, tape and some flimsy handcuffs that I enjoy being used on me.

    So, my first purchase of a less flimsy – but still soft-core – bondage kit must be about fifteen years ago before the Great God Amazon was the provider of all desires – including kinky paraphernalia as I’ve recently discovered! It was a set of webbing with adjustable wrist and ankle cuffs that you put the under mattress so the cuffs come out top and bottom of the sides of the bed to attach to a spread-eagled person. I think I got it on line but can’t remember details. It was a birthday present for my lovely long-term friend-with-benefits and we christened it in a hotel room in Tenby as part of his birthday celebrations and I was the one secured down. Happy days!

    And I got to thinking it would be rather fun restraining my current lover for beating and teasing again – but with something a little sturdier than scarves and ties as I used the first and last time I tied him up (https://spinstersexploits.blog/2025/09/17/domme-ing-it-up-part-2/ )

    This time around, I was awash with online sellers of bondage kits and found ones that fitted my memories of the one I’d previously bought. They all seemed to be made in China – like so much else – whoever the seller – so I reluctantly went for Amazon for a quick delivery.

    It arrived and seemed perfect for my middle-of-the-road bondage plans. And made my bedmaking far more challenging and entertaining than usual! All that was now needed, was a wonderful lover to fit into the cuffs…

  • Traumatising the young…

    We’d had an amazing – and plentiful – Chinese meal Saturday night and I was planning a full roast for Sunday lunch, so we decided we needed a little more exercise than the rather lovely fuck that brightened up our Sunday morning. And so we went for a walk. It was a gorgeous autumn morning and we enjoyed stretching our legs.

    We were quite circumspect and just had the odd little snog enroute for the fun of it. As we were nearing my home, we were alone on a quiet riverside path when he decided to go for a full-on snog plus arse-grab – and then we noticed the two teenage girls walking along the path towards us…!  We walked past each other with no acknowledgement – the first young woman was trying not to laugh and the second found the ground absolutely fascinating!

    And us – we tried not to giggle, but with little success! I think we sort of managed straight-ish faces as we passed them, but definitely not poker – and got full-on giggles further down the path.

    Just trying to work out whether we’re nearer their grandparent or great grandparent age range!

  • Erratum and Wardrobe challenges…

    I realise I may not have been entirely fair in my last post. I forgot to mention that the skill with the knot was that of him, not me. And he did take off my stockings beautifully as well…