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!😉🤭

  • Pensioner Sex

    So, there we were – downstairs again after lying around chatting in bed and listening to music and possibly some sexual activity – on one of the hottest days of the year. I was in a thin nightie and he was in a robe and apparently sweating buckets. So – naturally – I suggested he took it off. And purely in solidarity, I ditched the nightie. Luckily for my neighbours, the front of my house is not directly overlooked…

    And it was rather nice having a kiss on the sofa, naked. And things got somewhat more intense as we found ourselves lying down with him partly on top of me. And he whispered the magic words that he wanted to come inside me and I melted with desire but a little confusion and replied “Where?”  

    In my defence I don’t like to make assumptions that my lover is talking about actual fucking, plus – did he mean on the sofa? Or did he want to go upstairs? In simple English, he made his intentions clear and for the first time in decades and at the grand old age of seventy I got fucked on the sofa! And gave up my thanks to the gods of tai chi qigong and resistance exercise (me) and gardening and hill walking (him)! It was glorious if indecorous, but so much fun!

  • Meandering Mindfulness Musings

    I was trying really hard. I am rubbish at getting in the zone for my mindfulness sessions. But there I was in a comfortable position with a chair the right height and my feet firmly grounded. I decided to count my breaths in and out with a simple one, two, and listen to his voice… One, two, one, two… Not bad… Nice and relaxed…

    “And let any thoughts or worries disappear like a cloud…” and suddenly there he was – my wonderful lover as a naughty smiling cherub with his lovely little bottom in the air floating by on a cloud! No wings, but possibly a halo(?!) – can’t be sure – too mesmerised by the perky bottom!

    I am a hopeless case…

  • Joy – the Dalai Lama and Archbishop Desmond Tutu (Arch!)

    My lovely switchy sub and I were chatting in bed as you do – and to my delight I discovered he too was a fan of the wonderful Dalai Lama and the much-missed Desmond Tutu. And he’s never seen “Mission Joy – With Archbishop Desmond Tutu and The Dalai Lama”. It’s now 10 years old but still available on the BBC iplayer. What an opportunity! It immediately got added to our film list – it followed our viewings of “Shrek”, “How to Tame Your Dragon”, “The Grand Budapest Hotel” and “Burn After Reading”. We’re very eclectic…

    Having a memory that was always dodgy plus my advancing age, meant that my recall was sketchy, but I remembered laughter, joy and mischief. And it was there, but so much more. As a non-god-fearing, born again heathen I am non-religious, but I have a strong sense of spirituality and for me, it simply shines from both these lovely men. And they are so physical and giggly in a way I find touching and entertaining.

    This 2015 film has the simple remit of showing how it is possible to find joy despite life’s challenges. And it absolutely does what it says on the metaphorical tin – and so much more, as said. It may break your heart, but it then mends it. I have decided to watch it every year as I had forgotten so much.

    And I had totally forgotten the emphasis on the actual science of happiness. The Dalai Lama is very interested in science generally and he instigated research into happiness which is another of my obsessions. My lovely switchy sub pointed out that it looked like  the Dalai Lama had been at the forefront of the science of happiness as he had commissioned pioneering scientifc research into joy and happiness – Amazing!

    I recommend that everyone watches this fabulous film and spread the joy…

  • The best laid plans of mice, men and feminists…

    So, there I was happily imagining how I’d dress, how I’d speak to him and how I’d get to use my lovely new strap, and I wondered if the new cane would arrive and whether it would be any good… And I was somewhat shocked and as undone as a swooning Victorian virgin when I got His message of what He was planning for me at our next meeting! Reader – nudity and vulgarity were included as well as what I could expect once positioned to His satisaction!

    I felt thwarted and infuriated as He so casually hooked my inner spankee and twirled her around. My traitor of a body collapsed into a puddle of eager puppy and my abilities to form decent metaphors disappeared into a puff of smoke. So there was my poor inner baby Domme all flattened by Him and by my embarrassingly eager spankee and aided and abetted by my annoyingly growing subby self!

    Eager Spankee and Annoyingly Growing Subby were so taken by my so-called sub man with a plan that they took over my poor nervous system and bombarded my innocent brain and fanny and flooded them with images of his plans and most shocking sensations. Reader – I didn’t stand a chance! I was outnumbered, deliciously and infuriatingly. I’m now beginning to wonder whether a sweary tirade was a good idea in the circumstances, though – He did notice my less than circumspect way of addressing Him. Perhaps “You fucking bastard!!!” was a bit much – I can be a little free with my exclamation marks after all…

    My ability to concentrate on anything but my deliciously switchy so-called sub was a challenge and I may have been a little more vacant than usual during tai chi and the Scrabble game with members of the Ladies’ Fellowship group. I blamed it on the weather and sleeping badly. True – but he was the one I blame for my being awake at 5.30 in the morning!

    And so I came up with my cunning plan. Rather than accept his plans as a fait accompli I would see them as a demand, subject to negotiation. I agreed to the letter of his demand – on condition he cedes power to me the following time we meet. Unfortunately, ACAS and the United Nations were tied up, so we had to handle the delicate diplomacy between ourselves. He thought ceding total power was a bit much and what did it mean exactly? So being a fair-minded equal opportunist, I said I’d cede total control to him from his arrival, until he called a halt or I needed to call time. And we’d do the same again on the next visit with me in charge.

    I’m not sure what I feel about my diplomatic skills in such trying circumstances but my Eager Spankee, Annoyingly Growing Subby and Inner Baby Domme appear to be turning metaphorical cartwheels and letting off fireworks!

  • More switchy thoughts: Never say never…

    I did an interview for a spanko mag in 2004 and it was put to me that: “At the moment [I was] clearly enjoying [my] spankee status, but it’s common for women to outgrow this and become increasingly dominant” I was then asked if I thought I’d ever switch.

    I responded: “How intriguing! Well I’ve fantasised about being spanked for as long as I can remember and have only been seriously spanked for about a year, so it’s early days for me! I don’t imagine wanting to switch and I do not find the idea erotic for me. I must admit getting spanked is such fun that I can’t imagine getting itchy palms!”

    Well, perhaps I just needed to turn 70 and find a sub man prepared to switch to pique my curiosity – and it is well and truly piqued!

    So, in the interest of my personal development and possibly the pleasure I took in bossing around my lover and reddening his lovely bottom I have been imagining what I’m going to do to him next. I’d planned the clothing and liked the idea of the 50s vibe with interesting lingerie.

    But those Amazonian Gods of Desire and the Gods of Competing Providers showered me with interesting ideas and images of instruments I could use on my horse or receive from my switchy subby… I loved the look of a folded over strap with a wooden handle – like an easy to use belt. And I find belts enormously sexy… And then there were rather nice looking and just-scary-enough canes perfect for disciplining one’s imaginary horse, should one be that way inclined. I requested the strap and a (hopefully) swishy cane from the Gods of Online Commerce.

    And after he’d gone home my lovely strap arrived and I imagined using it on him!

  • Spicy Vanilla

    As said in my earlier posts, I am aware my lovely switchy sub lover is far more kinky and BDSM than me. And my recent mainly vanilla experiences had made me self consciously defensive as to my ‘label/s’ as I sally forth with my adventures as a septuagenarian.

    I believe I get as good an understanding of sub mentality as is possible for an empathic non-sub and it is somewhat different from the mindset of a more singularly focussed spankee. And while I have always acknowledged the power exchange of spanking and my pleasure in the ceding of power, I still didn’t see myself as submissive. But despite my stubborn mindset and advancing years I have to acknowledge that I may just have moved up an inch or so on that continuum based on our most recent day out…

    Another scorcher of a day. And it was nice to be driven by him. They’d enjoyed lunch and she’d been excited by his command to raise the hem of her dress on the way there, and once again on the way back. When she reached over to touch him he asked who had given her permission and she shivered at his casual domination and decided to enjoy the ride with her thighs exposed to him.

    And she directed him to the shaded walk she’d recommended that joined the villages and would take them partly along the river where she’d walked many decades ago.

    And after the unseen dog walker with their noisy charge left, they took the river path until they reached a fallen tree where she was ordered to bend over and of course she did. And he spanked her because he could. And she let him, because he could…

    And memories of the switch and his dominion over her danced in their heads. And he tried to find a suitable replacement to no avail.

    And he told her he’d like to fuck her there over the tree and she said how she would like that, but he’d noted the rope swing on the other side as well as the lack of suitable switches.

    And as they walked back the path well-trod, they passed a man and boy fishing and a lone sunbathing woman making the most of the cooling river flowing by her. They had made the right decision, but wished it could have been otherwise.

    And on the walk, she had suddenly had a thought and wondered what he thought he had with her -BDSM or vanilla? Definitely vanilla but… and the idea of Spicy Vanilla was born to their amusement. And she realised it could be a good internet porn name!

  • Non-orgasmic sex

    There had been misunderstanding, confusion, tiredness and travel. She was unsure what to expect but was reassured at the sight of him as they renegotiated their boundaries. They decided they were polyamorist friends-with-benefits who were sort of dating – maybe! And with that were relieved and content.

    And despite her genuine concern for his well-being, and the thoughtfully prepared spare bed, he decided he would spend the night with her. And despite her stated intentions and continued concern for his well-being, the erotic charge touched them as soon as they lay on her bed. And as she wrapped herself around him, she was driven apart from him by the heat, but they kissed and repossessed each other.

    And at the now familiar kisses and touches played their sweet havoc with her nerve endings, sense of self and emotions, she lost herself in him again. And they lay there aroused, linked and separated giving themselves and each other pleasure and erotic stimulation. And she felt her own excitement as she touched herself and her fingers slipped and slid in the slipperiness they had caused together. And she lost and found herself and him in her arousal. And she was with him on her bed in the sweltering heat of the day, and with him as he had beaten her and caressed her and fucked her and she remembered his power and hers and the gorgeous switchiness they had created.

    And she loved the feel of herself under her fingers and was astonished at the plateau of quiet contentment as her fingers continued their exploration of her openness. And the quiet contentment enveloped her and she realised it was enough as the peace and quiet joy filled her and they continued to lie in each other’s presence.

  • More on habits

    This is a nice, safe boring post just to garner likes while avoiding my other posts and drawing attention to your blog – knock yourself out.

    Today I am blogging before 8 and before my morning cuppa and ablutions. Radio 4 is burbling from my bedroom and later I will be doing tai chi and keep fit.

    I may do some laundry as I have a backlog of bedding.

    This is a blogpost that feels very appropriate for a seventy-year-old…

  • More switching – Sort of…

    She was getting a little obsessive about the hasty, outdoor switchings she’d received on her last day out with him. She was also – embarrassingly – getting weak-kneed at the sight of the rather battered hazel switch shoved in the urn; and her vibe was getting far more use than was dignified for a seventy-year-old she thought with a private grin.

    She could not wait to see him again and had been thinking about potential walks where such activities may be possible and getting disconcertingly swoony every time she reimagined that casual swishing of the switch as they walked along sedately between the moments of attention from her switch-swishing Switch…

    She was thrilled to hear his voice before their next meeting and enjoyed the effect of his phone call on her; despite the fact he would be later than first planned.

    She was also amused by his reaction to a piece she’d written sometime back – fiction but a reflection of her life then. It was the complex lingerie that had amused him. So far, she was always knickerless and braless and in a frock that soon disappeared as soon as they reached the bedroom – other than the time he’d told her to open the door to him naked – and she did…

    She’d not had a lover into lingerie for over a decade and so far they could never wait to be skin-to-skin as soon as possible but she got the impression he may not be averse to such underpinnings – on her!

    She did send a pic of the lingerie drawer just to prove possession of frills and furbelows, and did wonder about dressing up for him, imaging her lovely Switch swishing a switch at her door…

    She loved the fifties look and found the frothy petticoats a fun piece of silliness she always enjoyed. She’d worn her petticoats with a fifties-looking dress the evening before she was seeing him and loved the swishiness of another kind imaging wearing such clothing for him and having her petticoats lifted for his attentions…

    As she lay in the bath soaking in vanilla-scented water she contemplated dressing up in a basque with stockings and her petticoats and giving him some unwrapping and unveiling to do and still she thought about the sting of a switch. And her thoughts again wandered over how lucky she was to receive so much attention and her concern that he was not missing out. She knew she was no Domme – and he had one – but she could perhaps try and make an effort and provide something a little different, but hopefully of interest…

    And she amused herself with the idea of feeling neglected at his delay on seeing her, to watch rugby in the pub. And the idea of taking the initiative and trying her hand at switching entertained and excited her. Her 50s household fantasies always featured her getting spanked, but being in charge might just be fun… Why couldn’t she deliver a spanking and then demand attention from a willing bedroom slave?

    And she sent a message saying she may have been too accommodating at playing second fiddle to the rugby and excitedly rifled her lingerie drawers.

    Her black and purple basque of choice lacked its detachable suspenders and to her annoyance, the loose suspenders she found did not match. She would have to discard the lace-topped pale stockings she had thought suitable, for the black hold-ups with the ribbon lace-ups on the shiny wet-look stocking tops. Some black lacy knickers – the first knickers she’d worn for him – completed the first layer. And then of course her gorgeous flouncy net petticoats in red and black. She was happy to rock red and purple! And once the important underwear was sorted a plain white blouse and her lovely red and black circular skirt almost completed her look.

    She grinned to herself as she found the pretty half pinny and dug out her granny slippers – very fifties and she had plans for one of those slippers. As she had never delivered a spanking or beating, she grabbed a hairbrush and the rather nasty – in her opinion – bathbrush and tried to calm herself as she went downstairs to wait for him.

    He had messaged her, but she found herself all over the place psychologically, but very excited to be sat in her finery awaiting his arrival.

    She opened the door to him and as he leaned in for a kiss, she surprised him with her withdrawal and possibly her attire as she told him she was not impressed by having to play second fiddle to the rugby and having to put up with a non-functioning doorbell and lightbulb. And suddenly she was telling him to remove his clothing and he obeyed.

    It was hard for him to take her entirely seriously as she told him not to even think about taking off his jeans before his socks as she was aesthetically offended by trouserless men in socks. While attempting a case for the defence on practical grounds he soon lost shoes, socks and jeans. She told him he could keep his shirt for the time being.

    And ordering him over her lap was surprisingly easy and surprisingly sexy. As was the taking down of his pants.

    The hamster wheel of her rules and ethics, however, whirred and interrupted her so she made a clumsy attempt to get his assurance that any marks she may make would not cause him problems. And as she had ambushed him, she was aware of his lack of agreement.  She knew however, that he would not allow his own abuse. So she told him he was to be spanked and beaten for his neglect, but he could stop it “if he couldn’t take it”. All somewhat awkward and unimpressive, but it made her feel better. Meanwhile his Wicked Willie of a cock was signalling “Interesting – what’s happening now?”!

    And for the first time she had a half-naked man across her lap presenting a bare bottom for her attention and her first experience of switching was surprisingly satisfying. His reactions to the handily hidden hairbrush and the dreaded bathbrush pleased her enormously, but he was better at containing his reactions than she was and not a single expletive escaped him – although they both knew he was made of sterner stuff than she was – as he later confirmed!

    Never-the-less, he did end up with a nicely reddened bottom and she surveyed her work with some pleasure.

    And she decided that a chastened man may be a bit of a waste and so she ordered him to the bedroom to make up for his neglect. And she was silently impressed and amused by his eager cock standing to imposing attention.

    And she instructed him in the removal of her pinny and blouse and skirt and stepped out of the slippers she’d forgotten to use and lay back awaiting distraction as she ordered him to pay attention to her breasts. And both were aware of the novelty of her encased flesh and as he eased them out of the confines of her basque and they rudely presented themselves for his close and serious attention.

    And as she lay there almost swooning with pleasure she became aware of his insistent cock and had vague thoughts about her next command. And as he laughed and explored under the petticoats, she lost her knickers and much will power while his kisses, her awareness of his cock and his power grew as she wrapped herself around him and he repositioned himself and all she wanted was to be fucked. And she was. Beautifully and urgently and completely. Sometimes only a fuck will do.

    And then full of him, they lay in a daze among her rucked-up petticoats and rudely rearranged basque and exposed breasts. And she kissed and licked the source of their recent delight and they kissed. And he paid further attention to her reawakening body and she relived her domination and submission and the satisfying thud of wood on his flesh and her desire to receive the kiss of his desired instrument on hers and she came for him.

  • Switchy Shivers

    She could not escape the images and remembered sensations. Who’d have thought a hazel switch jokingly picked up in a park could have such an effect on her bottom and her psyche?

    They had laughed as he experimentally swished it, And then he told her to lift her dress and she did. And the hurried swipes set off surprising fireworks in her flesh and her head as she let her dress fall and took his hand as they sauntered from the shelter of the willow den. And a surprised gasp escaped her as she realised the willow left an unexpected deep afterglow on her smarting body and inside her whirling head. And her giddiness increased as he casually swished the switch as they strolled back to the car.

    And despite her reasonably sensible driving, part of her remained focussed on the casually held willow as she did her jokey tour guide patter. And never had she wanted a walk in the woods so badly. And never had she so resented other strollers, as she focussed on the casually switching switch, desperate for snatched privacy and the relief of her lifted dress and the bite of the switch once more kissing her eager bottom. And then the pleasure of taking his hand once again with her smarting behind, giddiness and racing desires.

    And the newly discovered park piqued their curiosity, but the swich came too. And as they explored the new place for its history, she wondered at the possibility of enough snatched privacy and baring her bottom once more for a taste of the casually switching switch. And as her dress was raised for the third time for their mutual pleasure she once again felt the power of the commandingly wielded willow across her willing flesh.