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!😉🤭

  • All revved up with a destination! (Spoiler alert – not much actual sex…)

    I was super-excited – my lover was taking me to see a Meatloaf tribute act – “Paradise Regained”

    One of the less obvious feminist aspects of my persona is my love of the Album “Bat Out of Hell”. It is totally sexist, but captures teenage sexuality beautifully in the operatic madness of it all. I have said – and I’m sure I really could – write a feminist dissertation on the album. But that didn’t stop me literally bouncing in my seat and joining in with “I bet you say that to all the boys…!”

    So much frustration and mismatch of desire permeates the album. I always knew Steinman must have had so much fun, so it was great when I saw a documentary a while back and learnt that he was deliberately boundary-pushing to see what he could get away with – that might just explain the faded Levis bursting apart and barely dressed seventeen-year-olds…

    But amongst the raw sexiness and teenage angst there are a couple of songs that strike other chords. I have long used “two out of three ain’t bad” as the name of a syndrome that has driven me nuts over the years – those men who are allegedly so hung up on the ex who was “the one”, that they can’t possibly commit to you; but a shag/series of shags would be great while they sigh poetically and keep looking…

    As a seventy-year-old polyamorist I have however decided that being wanted and needed is rather nice – as is liking and respecting our lovers and having fun. If everyone is on the same page, open and honest there is so much scope with two out of three…

    So back to the album – After all the teenage drama and having to walk out of the door because s/he wouldn’t love one back I also adore ending with the equally mad, hyperbolic pseudo-adult “For Crying Out Loud”. I laugh along with the vows to thank, need, serve, want and hold while singing out of tune and getting the lyrics wrong. And then I totally melt by the final “For crying out loud, For that I love you, When you’re crying out loud, You know I love you”.

    What can be a better ending for all that mad sex than an orgasm?* And there is something so gorgeously sexy about the sound of a lover’s orgasm – that delicious surrender at the end of a journey and the acknowledgement of pleasure and satisfaction. I have always loved witnessing lovers at that moment of “la petite mort”, the groan from the pit of one’s being, released from the depths and leaving one spent in the most positive way.

    * If you’ve not read some of my previous rants posts – please note – I think sex is amazing and doesn’t have to end with orgasms, solo or mutual – I think of sex as circular and not a journey pounding to the same inevitable conclusion. But that said, orgasms are one of the lovely things some of us can give to others and ourselves…

  • Erratum

    My last post should have read as:

    “I gather cock cages come in different sizes, but must be quite difficult to judge… I’m not an expert on cocks, but I’ve encountered a few, and as a woman – I’m less obsessed with size than a fair number of men.”

    I’d meant to state some knowledge of cocks and not of cock cages! As stated earlier – I’ve only seen the one cock cage and that was confusing enough!

  • Cock cages (2) – Show-ers and growers?

    So as said – the only cock cage I have ever seen was somewhat complex and confusing. But I was quite intrigued and excited when he told me he was wearing it… Only it seems amongst its complexities it has “spacers” as well as the bit that goes around the scrotum and it’s quite difficult to know how to space,,. It did look intriguing on, but it simply slid off without unlocking the cute little padlock – even less impressive than my fluffy Ann Summers handcuffs – which I love, but not exactly something I’d parade in front of serious bondage folk!

    I gather cock cages come in different sizes, but must be quite difficult to judge… I’m not an expert, but I’ve encountered a few, and as a woman – I’m less obsessed with size than a fair number of men. I was recently introduced to the concept of Show-ers and growers which I’d not heard before but made immediate sense. I guess there are those who both show and grow, but based on my statistically insignificant observations, there are those who “at rest” look quite well-endowed and grow to a lesser degree than the resting tiddlers with plenty of room for expansion…

    So I’m guessing more research is needed before I get to engage with a properly caged cock!

    P.S.

    Favourite sitcom moments revived by this post:

    The utter scorn of the fabulous Phoebe of “Friends” at the pathetic nature of the flimsy handcuffs discovered in their flat, followed by thoughts of older previous flat occupant who was probable owner.

      A load of men skinny-dipping insisting that cold water has an extreme effect on penile dimensions – “Sienfeld”?

    1. The Cock Cage – All revved up and no place to go…

      The cock cage remains unused… I’d planned for him to deliver himself to me caged, but circumstances intervened. And who knew that a cold house and ensuing shy balls would render a cock cage unusable?

      And thanks to additional circumstances, our day did not go as planned. I was all dressed up and ready for fun when I discovered he’d not yet left home! I shed my gladrags and waited for him. After a full and frank discussion, we cleared the air and went for Plan B – bed and a naked cuddle. And it was lovely. And I was reminded that his clever fingers could be as effective as my vibe!

      As I have become very dependent on my batteried friend, I have become anxious about my ability to have unbatteried orgasms, so it was a fabulous surprise and delight when he made me come digitally in an early encounter. And fab that he retains the technique and willing to make the effort!

      And later in between episodes of “Bones”, I discovered just how complex a cock cage is! The main part is a relaxed penis shaped perspex container with a an open slot over the head. Then there’s another bit and various sized rods and it all fits together and I was more befuddled than studying a piece of flatpack furniture! I still definitely like the idea of it, though! Apparently a warm flannel to the balls, will counteract a cold house – who knew?!

      A pleasure postponed…

    2. Spinsterly shopping  and pervertibles (spelling?)


      I was just passing Boots on my way from my Welsh class when I suddenly thought about indigestion – as you do. I am lucky that I do not require the Big Guns of serious medication – just a bit of chalk. But I’m fussy about my flavours. ‘Tums’ were my brand of preference  until they disappeared from the shelves. I found them online but they were not the same… I was very happy to find orange-flavoured own brand antacids at Boots – a good compromise. Are you bored yet?

      And then I remembered Boots was also a source of very nice wooden paddle hairbrushes – a rather perfect spanking implement in my humble opinion.  I used to keep one downstairs for those spontaneous moments as well as one in the toybox.

      I love the jokey name for everyday objects that can be used for such fun – pervertibles.

      I also love the sting of a hairbrush – enough to cause a serious squirm without the thuddiness of a heavier bath brush. Hairbrushes, like hand spanking, can hover around the seriously erotic ‘mmmm – more, please’ to the ‘Ouch – stop it!’ and back.

      Now that I have limited experience at the other end of my hitty toys I love the hairbrush for it’s domesticity and nuance – although I did seriously whack him with the old one last time and worried about the effect on the poor old hairbrush! – which is also why a spare one seems like a good idea!

    3. Early vibes – the Non Doctor

      So – I knew how to wank for my own pleasure. Don’t remember that I bothered much, but when I did – it was always to spanky fantasies. I was curious about dildoes and was familiar with banana and cucumber nudge, nudge, wink, wink stuff. Out of curiosity I did try inserting cylindrical objects, but they did nothing for me so clitoral rubbing was it – when I bothered.

      Back in the seventies and eighties there was no Internet, no Anne Summers, condoms were below the counter in chemists and barbers only and sex shops were strictly men only it appeared – and absolutely terrifying. The seventies were also the days of magazines such as Cosmo discussing sex and possibly ads for vibes – but I’m a bit hazy. I think I may have seen an ad for a vibe called the “Non doctor”.

      So – I was in my twenties, living in Cardiff, reading racy women’s mags and also Forum the “magazine of Human relations” so pretty knowledgeable, and curious. I was in a relationship, and we decided to get me a vibe. The only possible place was a shop in a Cardiff arcade selling “marital aids”, so we screwed our courage to the sticking place and went for it. I remember being absolutely terrified, but we did it. We went in and said we wanted a vibrator. So we were shown the famous Non Doctor – all black and sleek and not at all dildo-like.

      I was trying to be very cool and adult about it all and I think my then-boyfriend saying very little. The purveyor of marital aids then set the thing going, commented on the vibration or speed and held it out towards me. I touched it, felt the buzz in my fingers and made what I hoped were knowledgeable sounds of approval – a bit like a car engine or washing machine demo. And so I became the quite secretive owner of my first vibe!

    4. No sex, but plenty of delicious duvet…

      So – I wasn’t seeing my lover this weekend as he had other plans. And I knew I’d miss him, but I liked the idea of an indulgent weekend.

      I had decided to go to my Friday tai chi – I’d missed quite a lot due firstly to a cold, then annoyingly, to the embarrassing hacking cough I’d been left with. I got to my gate, and it was frozen shut! I’d not noticed it being particularly frosty but obviously it had been. A jug of warm water soon solved that problem – and then I noticed my icy windscreen. When I notice Jack Frost has done his rounds, I leave early and defrost in plenty of time to get to my destination. As I’d not noticed, I decided that destiny or the Goddesses/Gods had decreed another duvet day, so happily acceded to the Universe’s wishes.

      I had shopped the day before, so decided that today was a good day for leek and potato soup so spent some happy time making a batch. In between, I caught up with my news podcasts, my daily dose of online Scrabble and my Duolingo Welsh. And then my lovely cleaning ladies arrived and I sloped off with the latest Thursday Murder Club story.

      It’s nice having a clean house, but I hate cleaning! I don’t have high standards, so a four-weekly vacuuming and dusting suits me perfectly. And disciplines me to have at least one tidy a month, although I of course sometimes resort to just shoving things into cupboards and drawers! And I have been known to hide a washing up bowl of dirty dishes in the side passage – but less than half a dozen times so far…

      And then I decided to go and see Hamnet, so booked a ticket for the afternoon after a lovely chat with my lover. We booked for a celebration of the Chinese New Year in Swansea and decided to make a weekend of it, so off to the theatre as well. Should be fun. We’ve not been to a hotel together before.

      Hamnet was amazing. I shared the back row with a bunch of sobbing 20-something women which was quite funny and an odd accompaniment to the sadness of the film. Don’t think I’ve ever heard such open sobbing in a sad film before. As I came out of the loo afterwards, I saw a bunch of red-eyed young women there so just grinned and said “Hamnet?” and got nods…

      And so followed a weekend of indulgence and of boring domesticity, but all very satisfying. I have caught up with a backlog of laundry, made more soup – lemon and cress – rearranged the freezer to make room for soup, finished my murder club book and watched lots of TV and done the admin for my friendship group as well as some blogging….

      Just wondering at my next read. I was thinking of going back to Austen after the murder club antics, but now want to reread Hamnet, but my copy is lost somewhere in  the shelves or among piles of books I consider my décor – all pleasantly bohemian but very frustrating!

      And so, my weekend has been wonderfully spinsterish but immensely satisfying despite lack of intimacy, sex and the fun of my lover’s presence. I do have plans though… At my request he bought a cock cage before Christmas and we’ve not done anything with it yet – it’s outside my experience, but learning and new experiences are so good for us oldies… And he is rather good as a sex slave and getting better at receiving compliments, so hopefully he will enjoy this spoiler…

    5. Relationship quickie – What’s yours called?

      Ok – so my gorgeous lover and I are “polyamorous friends with benefits who are sort of dating” and we’re very happy with that. And we both like being honest, but both like our privacy. In the past I have patiently explained to a Social Worker that the lovely man in my life at the time was not my partner but my FwB. But somehow despite the nods he was labelled as my partner anyway.  And in the past I have caused a frisson in my social circles by declaring my lovely companions as FwBs rather than partners or [cringe] boyfriends. And – let’s face it – lover sounds fabulous, but somewhat dramatic – especially at 70!

      So today in my Welsh chat group my fabulous polyamorous friend…(etc) was off partying elsewhere and “explained” to a newcomer to the group by the group leader as “fy mhartner/my partner” I was all ready to put them right – although pretty sure I can’t do that in Welsh(!) – when I thought – is this how I want to present myself to a new person who’s only here to improve her Welsh skills? Honesty, openness, labels, privacy and boundaries are complex…

    6. Further vibe thoughts – a  personal pre-vibe historie…

      Thinking of the amazing Miriam and her enthusiasm for dildoes, sent me on a personal vibe history, so here it is!

      Unlike many, I am not a “natural” wanker.

      I suspect that simply because of the obviousness of the male genitals – and the apparent nature and socialisation of little boys along with solo exploration and info swapping – most boys discover the interestingness of their willies and wanking probably follows as naturally as night following day. And of course there will be the low-sexed, the G/god-respecting, the G/god-fearing, the other-focussed and those who have their own reasons to ignore the call or twitch in their pants!

      It seems that the so-called fairer sex are a bit more complex. Being more tucked away we are less obvious. While touching and self-soothing happen very early in both sexes, I suspect due to our anatomy, females may do it less. I personally have no memories of touching myself and I would not have been socialised to focus on my genitals. I do remember being growingly aware of the taboos around masturbation, however.

      As said previously, the sixties may have swung for some, but in South Wales it was presided over by parents and professionals from war-time experiences and religious heritages that made it a very clamped down society. The sins of Adultery and not coveting our neighbour’s wife seemed to have encompassed premarital sex and masturbation was not even discussed. I did however find references to self-pollution(!) and the dangers of such behaviour – everything from blindness to general weakness and mental illness.

      In those pre-Internet days of the sixties and seventies there was the TV and radio and magazines discussing the metaphorical swinging and as attitudes changed, I became aware that masturbation was “normal” and did no harm. I was still horrified at 17 to learn that it was known that a boy in my class had allegedly had a wank over a 70s soft porn mag. Soon I realised practically all boys were at it! I wasn’t sure about girls but I knew I didn’t!

      I was a product of my village, Catholicism, etc as said, and frankly – a bit of a prig. I wanted to know all about sex but – like drugs – had no intention of trying it for myself. And I wasn’t tempted to touch myself, so the idea that others were having sex and/or wanking just made me smug!

      And after much tortuous struggling with my conscience I fell in love and at 17, I had my first sexual relationship, The very excitement of the fact I was not only having sex but was also (in my own eyes!) very sexually sophisticated seemed satisfying enough. My reading however, made me aware that there was more to it. The odd orgasm I’d had before intercourse – when he was trying to persuade me to “go all the way” – also made me aware of possibilities but somehow most of the time I measured my ‘sexiness’ in terms of hisexcitement and my daring. I may have thought myself a feminist, but my consciousness was anything but raised!

      My moment of silent rebellion followed his excitement at an article by Germaine Greer on ‘women on top’. I was quickly fucked and then thought, “Is that it?” I squashed the thought and went for a pee. After all I loved him, didn’t I?

      At 18 and at college the relationship continued and I measured it in quantity rather than quality, proud of the fact we sometimes did it five times! All this reading however had filtered through, and I entered my next phase of sexual development.

      I was now au fait with the idea of female masturbation and occasionally performed for his pleasure, but my inner smug git was secretly proud of the fact that I never did so on my own. My discontent, however, eventually filtered through. My sex life was exciting but wouldn’t it be fun to see if I could give myself an orgasm? For some reason this thought came to me as I queued to take out books from the College library and my long squashed, vague youthful fantasies about getting spanked bubbled to the surface. There and then, in the library queue I decided I was going back to my room to play with myself. And I did. And it was fabulous. And it was secret.

    7. Miriam and Molly – Wonderful women, fabulous females and irresistible icons

      I was very excited to hear Women’s Hour discussing older women and sex. And their amazing guest was the fabulous Miriam Stoppard. I have admired her for common sense approach to life and sex but not heard from her for a while. And here she was encouraging older women to have sex and do it for themselves! Interestingly she seems a great advocate for dildoes. I have nothing against them, and my early vibes were definitely penile, although usually smooth and matt or shiny rather than a full-on phallus. Anyone remember the Non Doctor? Just me…?

      As Miriam made the point that most of us are clitoral, I was surprised at the emphasis on the dildo for solo and shared pleasure. I have nothing against dildoes – and perhaps I should be more open-minded… That said – I wonder if I was the only woman to feel intimidated back in the day when I actually bought one of the fabled rabbits – other well-endowed scary vibrators are available…

      As loyal readers will know – I am very fond of bullet vibes. They are designed for clitoral stimulation and are very neat and work for me. I would advise single or two-speed only though. There are a lot of ten-speed ones out there. Sound quite good – but they’re a bit like those multi-display fairy lights – you have to go through every bloody setting until you come to the one you want – and then continue through the cycle to switch the thing off! I discovered this when I bought my lover his own vibe as he liked me using mine on him.

      And later today I learnt that the amazing Molly Parkin had died – I think of her as the campest woman I have ever seen – a fashion icon, early queer ally, brilliant writer, painter and icon of female sexual positivity! She wrote the most amazingly funny and sexy short novels with names like “Fast and Loose” and “Up and Coming”. I remember getting the giggles on the bus and in a solicitor’s office as I passed my time with her amazing heroines in the eighties. I was also shocked to learn one of my friend’s Mum’s also read her! A reminder of my earlier ageism!

      And when I was trying to navigate life as an ex-virgin/good girl wanting love and sex and not a reputation, but wanting to widen my horizons – her outrageous adventures with her “young husband” in Forum magazine fascinated me. And her later autobiographical fiction on the struggles of such a relationship touched me – as did her later honesty about the reality of her life and alcoholism in her autobiographies and in person. I was lucky to see her perform in “An Evening With…” many years ago.  

      And I was delighted to learn in later years that she did not choose the male-pleasing, sexist covers of those wonderful novels. And loved the fact she ended up very happily in a council flat and having another phase as a painter. I think of her every time I drive through Pontycymmer. R.I.P. Moll!