The Spinster's Exploits

Sex, sensuality and possibly spanking after seventy…

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about

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!😉🤭

  • Worthiness…

    In between my lovely erotic adventures. ordinary life goes on – including housekeeping and everydaynesses. As a retiree my time is my own but I have my routines – various groups and activities – which have mainly stopped for August – that month of holidays and/or grandparenting duties. So I awoke this morning with my mantra for such days as these; “There is nothing I have to do…” It always feels good – Especially when I managed to get up at eight and had taken in the news of the day.

    I   am rather pleased with myself for doing my morning session of Welsh – are there any pensioners out there not on Duolingo?! – and then catching up with my washing up and making two batches of soup – lamb and veg and ham and veg. I even managed a mini freezer sort to make room, Unfortunately I managed to not close freezer door properly and have annoyingly iced up freezer. Luckily only casualty was an icecream lolly and temperature was maintained.

    I also had a good sort out of my phone pics. Was very pleased to be able to move my saucy ones into a secure file. Not managed to find it yet, but I’m sure I’ll work it out…

    I did some exercise and tai chi so feeling very smug.

    So if you’re looking for a post to like to encourage me to like yours – fill your boots – hardly any naughtiness here… And I’ve even done my recycling! Just my food caddy and the non-recyclable bag which – for a fortnight – was satisfyingly slim…

  • All dressed up…

    After my previous thwarting I was all set to give my lover what I hoped would be a memorable beating…

    Based on the contents of wardrobes and drawers and personal loves, I was sticking with a fifties vibe. I love a modified fifties look with modern garments – I am not a re-enactor and while I love a certain sexy restriction by my underpinnings I don’t like to be a victim of my lingerie! I know there will be lovers of rubber roll-ons and control pantees that survived into the late sixties and my youth – but definitely not for me – but be my guest!.

    Now a fifties asthaetic with a bit of give and stretchy stockings rather than micromesh – bring it on! I have a much-adored teddy/camiknickers that I love so much it got an honourable mention in a short story of mine. This is how I described it over twenty years ago on my heroine who definitely had my body and insecurities. And the fabulous garment still merits a place in my lingerie drawer after various sorrowful culls over the years…

    “She chose a pretty black garment with roses that was some sort of cami-knickers if her memory of the catalogue description was accurate. It was an ‘all in one’ with a built in under wired bra with lace topped cups that did wonders for her magnificent 42 inches of flesh. Other than the bra bit it was unrestricting and made up of shaped panels so it had a subtle waist but flared out into a pretty French-knicker effect. Teamed up with the matching suspender belt and black stockings she knew the look to be a traditionally sexy one even allowing for her dimpled thighs and big wobbly bottom.”

    This time I went for fishnets and added my much-loved net skirts before being unable to resist trying on some mad stiletto platforms fit for a drag queen or sex worker! I loved the look and felt fabulous. I added a gorgeous modern version of a fifties low-cut and full-skirted dress and a choker around my neck and was thrilled with the look. I’ve not worn vertiginous heels for a man in over ten years so I was feeling very sexy and very wobbly!

    I have joked about being a male lingerie fetishist trapped in a woman’s body and this is an example of why. The irony being, I usually dispense with even bra and knickers if I can reasonably do so without disgracing myself. I love the freedom of no underwear, so dressing up in my finery is an erotic act in itself.

    And I collected a cane, carpet beater, hairbrush and bathbrush along with a used mug and my body lotion and made my wobbly way to the top of the stairs. And hoped I’d not take a tumble due to my ‘Bambi-on-ice’ level of body control. I did giggle at the thought of being rescued by my neighbours or paramedics if I ended up a damaged heap at the foot of my stairs in my finery… Luckily, I reached the ground floor intact and was able to do some practice sashays between kitchen and living room while awaiting my gorgeous lover…

  • Sweet men (and penises) – a short diversion…

    Contrary to myth and the opinion of many of my male friends – sweet men can get a lot of action! If you melt her heart, it doesn’t mean she sees you as a puppy or child – unless that’s your thing and your intention all along – but that’s another story and outside my particular knowledge and expertise.

    No – a melted heart will often get you into her bed – it certainly works on me. But – what about all girls loving a sailor bad boys you ask? Nah – Not the mentally healthy ones with some self-respect – it’s no fun being treated like dirt and playing second fiddle. And there’s nothing stopping sweet men playing at bad boys when desired… treat them mean, keep them keen works a treat if you want an insecure puppet…

    And as a spankee and possible fledgling part-time sub – sweetness is an innate commodity that does not get in the way of fabulous macho posturing, dominant control and/or cane swishing… Ooh – I may now need a little lie-down…

    An exhausted man, or an injured one, or just a thoughtful one can pull my heartstrings. And I will happily want to nurture – if I know he would do the same for me if the roles were reversed.

    And I have a real love of a sleepy penis although have been told over the years not to call them sweet – but they are! The very fact that – like their owners, they are seriously impressive beasts, makes their dormant state more touching and carressable in a non-arousing way – unless of course – there is a change of mood, and your cute sleepy friend decide he wants to come out to play… And that could be him or his penis – as previously stated – men and cocks sometimes take turns at being in charge although they work wonderfully together!

  • What ls Sex, Anyway?

    I just love this response to the question posed and answered in “The Ethical Slut”. And I really did laugh out loud at that last sentence! – Enjoy!

    “The word “sex” gets used as though everyone agrees on what it means, but if you ask people what they actually do when they have sex, you’ll hear about a huge range of behaviors and interactions.

    We have talked before about sex being part of everything and about everything being part of sex. Now let’s talk about the parts that most people call sex – the parts that involve lips and nipples and clits and cocks and orgasms. Sex may involve these parts, but we don’t think it’s about them; the genitals and other erogenous zones are the “how” not the “what.”

    The “what”– what Sex actually is – is a journey into an extraordinary state of consciousness. where we tune out everything extraneous to our emotions and our senses in this very moment, travel into a realm of delicious sensation, and soak in the deep connection that we share in sex. This journey is a voyage of awakening, as if the nerves whose job it is to transmit feelings of delight had been lying asleep but have suddenly leaped to attention, aflame, in response to a nibble or a caress.

    Perhaps what we call foreplay is a way of seeing just how awake we can get – all excited attention from our earlobes and ankles out to the ends of our hair – the prickling of the scalp, the tingling in the arch of the foot. The glorious miracle of sexual anatomy is that any of these awakenings can set off the swelling in the loins, lips, nipples, cocks, and cunts, which awakens lots more intense nervous networks buried inside us, till we are all lit up like fireworks.

    Sex is anything you do or think or imagine that sets the train in motion: a scene in a movie, a person on the street you think is hot, swelling buds of wildflowers bursting in a meadow, a fragrance that opens your nose, the warm sun on the back of your head. Then, if you want to pursue these gorgeously sexy feelings, you can increase the swelling tension and your sensual focus, with any kind of thinking or touching or talking that humans can devise: stroking, kissing, bitings, pinching licking, vibrating, not to mention erotic art and dance and hot music and silky stuff next to our skin.

    So sex covers a much larger territory than genital stimulation leading to orgasm. Sex that’s limited to perfunctory foreplay and then a race down the track is an insult to the human capacity for pleasure.

    Here’s a happy way to answer the question of what is sex: if you or your partner is wondering whether you’re having sex at any given moment, you probably are.”

  • On Love and Orgasms

    So – the theory is – you know it when you feel it – often delivered by a smug, older person about love and not sure who the orgasm guru is…

    Well from the great height of my 70 years of experience – I dare to challenge!

    I have loved and loved well – and every experience was totally unique. Of course there is ‘love’ and ‘being in love’. I have been in love – at times joyfully and at others despairingly, but always different and – I now believe – born out of the complexity of the unique individuals we were. I find this idea rather exciting and intriguing. I am reading “The Ethical Slut” and rewatching “Mad Men” – so lots of ideas about desire and needs swirling around.

    I am very glad to be a happy septuagenarian open to new ideas and adventures and not have to play at “man’s imagined woman” – unless I want to! My other great influence is this array of decluttering advice – I am not clutter-free, but I take very seriously the mantra “Does it bring you joy?” for everything in life. It is my guiding principle to making my life joyful and so far so good – my sexual and intimate life is loving and brings me joy.

    And so to orgasms…

    Well the great Shere Hite proved most of us women were clitoral and I happily accept that I am. Sometimes I have amazing sensations with the right stimulation – and sometimes I don’t. There is often so much more going on and it’s hard to unpick the whole experience to find the constituent parts – and why would I? Sometime my mind is blown, and sometimes it is not, but it is still delightful. As are the hot non-orgasmic quickies, or the moments of my partner’s pleasure that I rewind and treasure.

    Unsurprisingly I have wondered whether I was getting the real thing. I have had observations of (literal) quivering thighs, flushes, pupil dilation etc… And when I masturbate with a vibe I often get an involuntary arching of the back.

    But while I enjoy the sensations and the orgasm every time, my pleasure varies enormously between mere relief to what feels transcendental. The experience is the thing. But I thought I knew what my orgasms looked like…

    Now while I am convinced I am vaginally non-orgasmic, I adore being fucked for its intimacy and sensations. It is utterly fabulous. I have a couple of vaginally orgasmic friends, one of whom is a “squirter” who can soak her bed with fluid which I understand is the result of stimulation of the (unproven) g-spot. My other friend has “regular”(?) vaginal orgasms, although once upset her friend-with-benefits when he hit the spot and he thought she was peeing on his posh couch!

    I did once try to find my g-spot – it was the 80s, I was in my 30s and I read Cosmo magazine. I got a sore wrist and I got bored so I gave up. At least I could find my clitoris!

    After a recent bout of glorious and deep fucking I found myself joyful and disoriented. A state not unfamiliar after orgasm, spanking and/or extended erotic attention. And I got to wonder – without a headful of electrodes and machinery, who knows whether we have orgasms or not? As long as I have the joyous experience I don’t care. But I am curious…

  • Virtue Rewarded?

    Well, I had another lovely weekend with my gorgeous lover after much amusement about treating his skin like porcelain. We managed to find pleasurable activities that did not damage his skin and others that caused passing marks on mine, but faded fairly quickly.

    Luckily we both love good vanilla, and we seem to be able to make it work for us. We’re both generous souls who get pleasure from each other’s pleasure so make our own lovely little virtuous cycle of pleasure… We both love positive feedback. I can see and hear when I hit various spots of pleasure, and I am very unladylike in my obvious reactions. Squirming and sighing are fairly easy to read signs, and my inability to think and my dazedness cause him some amusement. And that’s before the swearing and calling on Higher Powers – God to his friends…

    And as said – only his skin was in need of protection, so I got to be on the receiving end of the contents of my toybox – lots of hitty things plus some bondage. It is always a delight being in his power and very sexy being spanked, caned, thrashed and teased. It has to be enough to hurt and leave a sting for a while but I am not able to take anything too overwhelming or damaging.

    I am looking forward to trying out my new level 1 skills in domestic domination – part of our spicy vanilla which will be on a more contained plane than what he’ll be getting at the hands and various implements of his Dominatrix tomorrow…

    I am determined not to be a pushover after I beat him, this time! Now I know I was pitched against both his switchy Dom AND his Wicked Willy of a cock, I will be prepared to stay strong in my demands for pleasure on my terms. I shall also have to fight my Emerging Inner sub and my sometime pleasure of having a man in charge. And of course if my lovely switch and/or WW take over, we will both still have a mind-blowing time – Win/Win – a perfect outcome!

  • Virtuous circles – some passing thoughts…

    We hear lots about ‘vicious circles or cycles’ – or feedback loops – how one bad thing leads to another and another and on to first and we’re on a grim merry-go-round. A classic example would be feeling miserable so eating as compensation. But overeating makes us put on weight so we feel more miserable and so we eat more…

    But there are the more delightful and less-discussed virtuous circles or cycles where one good thing leads to another. I have realised that good sex with lovely people makes me feel better and being in a good mood is likely to lead to more good sex…

    And in my recent return to ‘form’ after a period of celibacy my head was full of ideas that I really wanted to write about – hence the blog. And I found – as said – not only do I enjoy the creativity of writing, but it seems to feed my pleasure in my sex life. Writing makes me think about what we do and how I feel and I relive and plan and capture memories, emotions and thoughts. And that adds to my excitement and improves my actual sex-life. And my improved sex-life makes me happy and feeds my creativity so I write about it. The writing arouses me and gives me ideas which feed into my erotic encounters. And so the lovely feedback loop/virtuous circle of deliciousness spins on merrily…

  • Thwarted!

    Well, last weekend was truly amazing despite (because of?) the hijacking by his gorgeous Wicked Willie cock… And we did get to play with my new toys. Despite looking like a bit of dowelling you’d get from a DIY store with a plastic rubber-like handle, I love my new cane for receiving and giving. And the new strap makes an amazing thwack that I hoped did not rise above the music and seep through the closed bedroom windows. The sting was pleasant but nowhere near as dramatic as the sound!

    And there I was happily and idly planning our next weekend when I’d be in charge. I was determined to fight the forces of my Domly switchy switch, his Wicked Willie of a cock and my Innate Spankee and Emerging sub – that’s quite an army, but I was determined. As we were chatting I happened to ask about his next visit to his Domme and discovered it was the Monday after our weekend! It would be poor protocol and the height of bad manners for him to visit Her with any marks on him and I would not dream of doing such a thing. Thwarted!

    Despite a charade of incredulity I believe it was genuinely not planned. She has been away, and his usual routine has been disrupted so his not connecting the timings of my further attempts at Domestic Discipline and his visit to Her is completely plausible. But it did cause me amusement.

    So I guess we will have a weekend of him having to pay me attention and me treating his flesh like porcelain – it’s a hard life! He has pointed out I have a further week of planning. I feel I should be stroking my chin like a bad pantomime villain!

    Just one more sleep to the start of our weekend!

  • Sedate Walks (mostly)

    My lovely switchy sub and I had a lovely weekend of erotic fun and chilling, and also managed to fit in three walks. I enjoy introducing him to the pleasures of my environs as well as sharing the pleasures of the bed and sofa!

    It was a grey weekend but we managed to dodge the worst of the rain although it was quite waterlogged on our first walk – a path I remember from family walks as a child. The path had become overgrown, but along with other paths had been cleared during covid, and although secluded and partly overgrown, was very passable. It did have challengingly large puddles but with his help, we got through with dry feet. Despite the privacy, it was not a path that invited naughtiness and our walk was very sedate.

    Our second walk – to counter our substantial brunches – was around a local nature reserve with a birdwatching hide. We genuinely got interested in the birds, and behaved with utmost decorum on the walk and in the hide we had to ouselves. I did however notice the benches(?) that were shaped like smaller versions of the solid vaulting horses one gets in school gyms. He, apparently was oblivious to the spanking potential, but when I later mentioned the odd benches told me they were not high enough!  

    I was very excited about our third walk – not for erotic possibilities, but because it was genuinely something I found rather special. I discovered it some years ago – a quiet lane with a small graveyard that had the remains of some staff from a local asylum as it then was. It is one of those unexpected finds that is very special, although common knowledge to many. It is well hidden behind a wall with a very narrow opening concealing its unexpected secrets. I find it quite touching and atmospheric.

    And there is a further joy which I can only describe as a cathedral of trees. These amazing trees are smooth-barked monsters that have shot up directly into the sunshine, as well as meander across and entwine, before starting their dramatic ascent. There is a silence and otherworldly atmosphere that gives the grove a sacred air equal but different from the nearby graves. And we were genuinely awed by them, by Mother nature and the atmosphere and stillness of the place. We were there in the damp dusk of a damp day and somehow that added to the atmosphere…

    And I’m pretty sure it was him who noticed the perfect height of the smooth horizontal trunk of one particular tree before its ascent to the heavens. And it took no time at all for me to bend over and discover how perfect a height it was for me to receive some attention from my now Domly switch… He certainly proved the power he can pack into just the palm of his hand, aided and abetted by an interesting knobbly stick he just happened to acquire… The quick sneaky snap he took on his phone showed some impressive proof of his attentions, before my swift recovery.

    I am sure the erotic energy we brought to our lovely natural cathedral added to the energy of the lovely giants we so admired.

  • There are three of us in this relationship….

    Unlike the then Princess Diana, I am not at all bothered by my lover’s Mistress, who is well worthy of her capital M. And we decided from the beginning we are open to other erotic and playful opportunities.

    Our third party made his presence felt at my first very amateur attempts at domestic discipline. While I was uncertain and my lover was interested and curious; it was that Wicked Willie of a cock that signalled “Woo-hoo – Let’s play!” It certainly aided my confidence, and a good time was had by all.

    When we got upstairs and I tried to continue my dominance I realised that I was too vulnerable to my Emerging Inner Sub and love for sexual domination as I gracefully let my gorgeous Switchy Sub take over – or so I thought…

    This weekend, I followed his demands to the letter, and we got off to a flying start erotically, with nudity and spanking as the dish of the day, when I was then ordered upstairs and in no uncertain terms was soundly fucked. Like so many women, I am not built/designed to have vaginal orgasms, but I love the sensations and love it when a lover comes inside me – and I certainly had a mind-blowing head fuck in the most positive way.

    And as I mulled it over, I just started to wonder about my fabulously dominant switchy sub and asked about his plans for me before he’d arrived at my home. And while the fucking WAS his idea, it wasn’t what he’d been expecting to do at that point… And that’s when I realised. It wasn’t him or me dominating the proceedings – it was his wonderful, greedy Wicked Willie of a cock!

    For our younger readers – Wicked Willie was cartoon created by Gray Jolliffe and Peter Mayle featuring a penis with a mind of its own, that usually successfully overrode common sense and the actual brain of its owner. Wicked Willie is probably quite dodgy as a concept in terms of responsibility in real life, but in the eighties when I first saw the cartoons, I remember thinking – yes – that makes sense – men did seem to be led by their willies quite often. And I did think said willies often seemed to have a mind of their own.

    So I am happy to include WW into our menage and acknowledge his dominance as long as he continues to bring us unfettered joy and pleasure…