In this post; sex with Mister Big, healing myself, and how a prostitute has inspired my to do yoga.
Saturday November 4, 2017
I missed my period.
I m ten to fourteen days late, and I can’t be pregnant because I didn’t have sex. Not intercourse anyway. I did give a blowjob to my lover; an act Mr Big can ask of me any time. Not that he would, because he’s way too concerned for my needs to propose anything if I stop things during foreplay.
I think one of the reasons I m a good lover is because I never had sex with him when I didn’t want to.
I was about to, once. It’s a moment I remember vividly, probably because I used it for an erotic story. We went to his apartment and we were already turned on. But when I was naked and we were about to go further i felt I wasn’t so hot anymore. Or that the brief foreplay had been insufficient to warm me up.
I had not said a word yet Mister Big stopped immediately.
He looked into my eyes and he said:
“What do you want?”
Not in an irritated way, like: “AARRRGGH! What do you want THIS time?!”
But in a sensual;, “I m here for you, you can trust me,” kind of way.
As if those four words meant:
“Tell me your most deviant fantasies, and I ll make them come true.”
At least that’s how I interpreted it, but it takes two to tango of course.
Mister Big told me on more than one occasion he’s not into young women. Which must not be interpreted as some sort of hard limit, of who is welcome in his bed.
Just that’s he’s aware that it’s much easier to have good sex with a mature women. Same reason I call myself a “recovered” cougar:
It’s extremely straining to date below 30.
The older partner has to make sure there is emotional safely, and guard how far things can go, depending on who is the weakest link.
In my case, I was the weakest.
Whenever I was with a young lover, I could only take things as far as my capacity for a cold shoulder afterwards would allow.
Which was usually very little.
With Mister Big too, it would be the young woman who he would need to protect. If he lures her in, without being in love, and he gives her the night of her life, he’ll destroy her if he’s not ready to be there for her the next day.
He has his disclaimers in place, for any age, that it will probably be just sex and that she has to make up her mind if that’s enough for her. But especially when a woman is young, the risks are there. And then there is the fact that a younger woman will get less out of it, because she’ll have a harder time asking for what she needs.
And Mister Big doesn’t want sex with a woman who’s not having a good time.
So the scene of the story, which happened a few years ago, was that I dropped out of wanting sex and Mister Big asked:
“What do you want?”
And I got extremely hot! I proposed anal sex (like-
can you believe it right?!) and we had a great session.
But a few weeks ago, with the just-oral thing- was a different situation. First off, we were barely seeing each other, and had not had sex in months. The abysmal level of our affair was taking its toll. I literally felt like he had put it on ice.
A feeling I have not been able to shake off to this day.
And we were on a short date, during day time.
The combination of the cold temperatures, with the half-hearted date, was not a fertile ground to warm up to real sex. Not on my part.
But for him it was, and I suggested the blowjob.
And that was really nice. I love giving it, and I get a real boost if he comes on my neck and on my cleavage.
This is one of the key aspects in the book I m writing this month:
-> White Tigress
Yoga & Lifestyle guide for solitary women
who want an amazing sex life
and plenty of energy
A woman loses energy from vaginal or anal intercourse. Although anal is the lesser evil of the two, because a man is more careful not to hurt you, and will take things way more slowly.
But a woman gains energy from oral sex and from sperm landing on her cleavage and neck.
This knowledge came to me, and I don’t think this was a coincidence, days or weeks before I met my first lover. Early 2007.
I just came out of my long term relationship, and I knew I wanted to become a Pro at being single, but I was scared of std’s and had no idea how I was going to conquer that fear.
Just that I had to in order to lead the life I wanted.
So at the brink of my new life, I picked up a book called White Tigress – by Hsi Lai, and this book taught me everything about oral sex and how to use it.
And the rest is history.
I will write down everything I have learned about being a White Tigress. The yoga, the lifestyle, the oral sex.
But first I will explain why me missing my period, and me having so little sex, is bad news. Why it makes me the Least Believable White Tigress in the largely unknown history of the species.
No sex, no period, no authority.
But let me get back to that tomorrow.
Sunday November 5, 2017
I had red blood today.
Not the brown smear that also qualifies as “spotting” – loss of blood between periods. I had that a number of times, since the day I was supposed to have my period. Whenever I taught my yoga classes, or went out for the day, I would always use some protection like a menstruation cup or tampon, should my period start. And sometimes it came out spotted.
But not like this.
So maybe me missing my period isn’t the menopause after all. It could be a stress related thing that could have happened at any age, and I will elaborate on that later. Because if I still have eggs left – life force and youth that I can preserve in the first place – that would be great news for my White Tigress project. And it’s not just the blood. I had another observation today that makes me think I know what’s wrong here. And believe it or not, this is even more personal.
I have trouble peeing.
Two aspects of it have been investigated: I don’t have an infection, nor an std, and I should be doing a training for an overactive bladder, because that’s the next main suspect. The doctor gave me a link to an online training. I looked into it, but it means I have to train myself to stop going to the loo so often. I m sure she meant well, but I have little faith that will do anything for me.
Because today, when peeing, I noticed something.
You know how middle-aged men always complain that they used to have the peeing power of a horse, and now they’re so weak down there? I felt exactly that. And the same irritation, and sadness for loss of youth.
But instead of this loss of strength, I had verbalized to the doctor only the “female” side of my problem; feeling I had to go, way more often, and not feeling accomplished afterwards.
I had failed to notice my lack of power down there.
Or lack of power?
No. Too much power, not enough relaxation. I could feel my pelvic floor was way too tight, and this meant I could not engage the muscles anymore because they were already too tensed.
A typical male problem, although females have it too.
But it’s something that yoga can fix. Not all yoga though. Yoga that focuses on contracting the pelvic floor only makes it worse. Which is exactly what the “ultimate” White Tigress yoga series does: the Master Series, or “week 10 series”, that I was about to commit myself to for the rest of my life.
For weeks I had had this urge to commit to daily yoga. And I knew – or thought I knew – the best thing I could do for my body was my White Tigress program. Week 10. Not al the preparatory weeks that I designed for beginners in order to learn proper breathing and to get acquainted with their body. I was a yoga teacher! Give me the real stuff, right?
This morning I felt that lack of relaxation in my pelvic floor and I knew I was carrying way too much tension there. Tension that was not only renown for giving men erectile disfunction (the problem middle aged men have with peeing is usually from an enlarged prostate), but this tensed up pelvic floor also prohibits women from conceiving.
It is a well-known fact to yoga teachers, that the moment women learn to breathe to their belly, and to relax the pelvic floor, conception can be within days of your first yoga class.
So until yesterday I had two problems:
One was that I had stopped having my period, which I suspected meant menopause.
And my second problem was that I had peeing problems.
And yet this moment at the toilet gave me one, loud and clear explanation for both! Tons of tensions in the southern regions.
Before I was ready to take my own level ten White Tigress training, I would have to start at the humble beginnings.
I would have to start with week 1.
Saturday November 11, 2017
I have so many notes here, things I want to share. From giving up on yoga to reuniting with my lover Mr.Big. But let me start with something I promised to clear up.
Because a week ago I wrote this;
“But first I will explain why me missing my period, and me having so little sex, is bad news. Why it makes me the Least Believable White Tigress in the largely unknown history of the species.
No sex, no period, no authority.
But let me get back to that tomorrow.”
And then tomorrow never came.
So, recap, recap! Here’s what happened, why I initially thought it mattered; and how I’ve totally reinvented myself. I even started drinking again. But let me start at the beginning.
One: Missing my period.
At age 45 I really can’t complain if the signs of menopause are as easy to deal with as spotting, short menstruation cycles, or – as was the case this time – missing a period. In the end I was two weeks late, so I missed half a cycle. But the reason it mattered was that I intend to write and share a yoga method I have developed myself. It’s called White Tigress.
And White Tigress yoga is supposed to preserve your fertility.
Which is why me showing signs of menopause at 45, while my mother stayed fertile way past her Sarah age so I can’t blame bad genes, does not increase the credibility of a method that I think can help a lot of women.
I felt like I had to be fertile and young, in order to prove my method. So I came up with about eighty different plans on doing daily yoga, preferably the White Tigress series, but I also felt attracted to Ashtanga yoga or power yoga. But regardless of how many resolutions I made, yoga didn’t happen.
Two: Peeing problems.
I got screened for infections and std’s, and that all came back clear. Then I realized I had way too much tension in my pelvic floor. Which would explain both the peeing problems, as well as early menopause. And it could be solved with yoga, something I wanted to pick up for the White Tigress anyway.
Well, anyway? More like no way.
Because although yoga self-practice was now labeled a solution to both my problems- menopause and peeing – I still didn’t do it. I took my schedule to the studio, in case I had fifteen spare minutes before class. I started a new yoga diary to inspire myself. I created countless work week schedules in which yoga had its own designated one hour time-slot every morning.
It was absolutely hopeless. Not my physical ailments, nor my desire to be credible as a White Tigress mentor had any effect. My inability for daily yoga at home was carved in stone.
I got my period.
The peeing problems disappeared.
And with that I lost two of the three motivators for doing yoga. That’s when I officially gave up the idea I would ever again do yoga at home.
Especially since something else was taking over my life. Blocking hours for yoga, when this ferocious force was devouring every minute I didn’t defend with my life, was a mission impossible.
That thing, was my work addiction.
Three; Work addiction
I ve said this before, but it’s becoming more clear to me every day. I am a work addict, slash write addict. I m not addicted to work as in teaching yoga classes. They feel more like free time or leisure. And I m not even addicted to writing about yoga, which would include my upcoming White Tigress book.
For this season, 2017-2018, I m writing two books for the studio as well as the White Tigress book (English). Those three books will be the foundation of my studio program for the upcoming years.
So I may be working myself into a stupor this year, but will reap the benefits in years to come. So no, me being at my desk for my yoga business for 25 hours a week, is not because I m addicted to writing about yoga.
My addiction lies in this. What I do here. Writing for the diary you’re now reading, and for every diary-like blog I own. Writing diaries and autobiographical erotica is addictive. Which is a nice bridge to the next thing that happened; I met Mister Big.
Four: no sex
I started this post saying me not having any sex was bad White Tigress practice. Almost as bad as not doing yoga. What I meant was: me not having oral sex, is bad practice. Because White Tigress wisdom says women age from vaginal penetration, and gain energy from oral sex.
In four months I now had sex twice with Mister Big, counting last week’s as the latest addition. Both times I only gave oral, and kept my pants on.
We’d planned a proper date, hopefully leading to proper sex. As far as that’s a valid term when it comes to extra-marital sex but okay. Anyway, I unexpectedly got my period, and I ended up giving a blowjob and keeping my pants on.
But not without thoroughly enjoying myself.
I wrote my diary, as soon as I got home, and I ll copy it here in a minute, so that we can end on a high. But first a recap of everything that happened, my failed resolutions, my questionable health and my raging addiction.
So before I copy my post-sex diary, here are the decisions I made last week;
1. I’m quitting all home yoga efforts
My health is fine now, and I have a writing addiction to attend to. Originally home yoga was also a part of my “Reboot-project”; losing 15 kilos before the new year.
That will just have to happen without a home yoga practice.
2. daily daylight and cycling
This is the only health effort I m making. The only thing standing between me and being glued to my key-board every spare minute of my day.
3. daily writing for LS Harteveld
Every day, I ve carved out time for creative writing. Posts will be shared on my Facebook page and Twitter.
4. The Corporate Job
I’m treating my yoga business (running the studio, teaching classes and writing yoga books), as a regular 40 hour plus workweek. Four days a week from 1p.m. to 10.30 p.m including breaks and travel time, and one half workday on Wednesday. There are no spare time-blocks available; any hours missed will have to be compensated for in the weekend.
Which are days I d rather spent writing.
Or seeing a little more of Mr.Big.
Post-date diary entry
“How well did you know agent Gascoigne?”
*images of two people making love*
“Enough to say hello.”
I could feel myself slip into that other Universe.
The one I had not visited in four months and that belonged exclusively to me and Big. We had the promise of a full evening together, in privacy. We had each other’s full attention, fascination even. It’s strange how being separated heightens the sensation of being together. And we would have fucked, if it hadn’t been for my period. It’s not a hard limit. Just that I need to feel like it, and that never happens unless we’re at my house, and it’s a full-blown sleep-over. Then, I may get over the fact that I m bleeding.
But not now.
That it was the first proper date in four months, and that I had no idea how long it would be until the next, didn’t change that.
But maybe it was better this way. Giving myself in every way but sexually. Although there were plenty of promises for great sex in the future. As well as a blowjob in the now.
His dick is like my tits: I have no idea who to thank, but I m well aware I’m lucky. And his cock had already joined him on business meetings, had been there when he sealed the deal, made money, traveled, hurried, got stuck in traffic and barely made it in time to open the door for me. And logically speaking there must have been sanitary stops between his last shower and my lips closing around his shaft.
He didn’t have time to shower before I rang his doorbell. At least that’s what he said when I asked to verify. Because he smelled so clean and nice. It was so good to do this.
I had missed it so much I could cry.
That moment the Universe split into the side where I was a struggling yoga teacher who suffered from an irregular period, a work addiction and who had given up drinking in a last effort to at least be good at something and keep one resolution. Even though there were no signs the irregular period or the work addiction were dependent on alcohol.
And the other side of the Universe.
Where I was Big’s lover and enjoyed the haze of my first wine in over a month. I gave my trust, my loyalty, the best blowjob I remember giving in my life. I cried. The love was almost tangible, as was the secret status we had. The boundaries of our affair, have created a love nest where I keep everything. My heart, my love, my trust. A chamber of secrets. I m not saying I cannot be hurt or betrayed, just that it wouldn’t happen from him seeing other women, or him ultimately choosing for his wife.
And maybe it’s even that chance that he would hurt me, that gives the whole game an extra thrill. Every time I have to wait. Every time I see others wanting him. Every time I realize how full-on crazy things would get should he divorce and become available on the market again.
A former banker with his own child-free condo, that he managed to slip by his marriage agreement under the flag of a simple property investment.
Yes, things would get crazy. Like sale on Black Friday.
He’s the love of my life, yet chances are I’ll never openly date him. And I ll never blow the secret either. If anyone would ask if I know him, I would answer:
“Enough to say hello.”
Force of Nature
Monday November 13, 2017
How could I forget. Again. Did I honestly believe, two weeks of peeing problems and missed menstruation, were going to make me commit to yoga? Had I learned nothing?
I keep forgetting that what I refer to as my work addiction, my need to create, is a permanent change in what type of person I am. In what I need in order to have my basic needs met. The moment I became a writer, I was no longer a yogi. My DNA had changed. I couldn’t even properly digest stuff like contemplation, silence, repetition. I couldn’t digest yoga in it’s most primordial form as an experience of going deeper into the Self.
Journeys were only taken when they could be used for writing.
And in doing yoga, the work of creation was either not there, or it had already been done. There was no reward, in yoga, other than consuming or experiencing it.
I only enjoy experiences if I can drain them for their creative inspiration. Like this diary Reboot is based on the movie Atomic Blonde. And I’m currently reading – devouring would be a more accurate word – the diary of an escort girl. It is ending up covered in sticky-notes marking all the brilliant pieces. The diary of the escort has awakened a screaming desire in me to start a new project.
Charlotte Shane – Prostitute’s Laundry
But in general book reading, art admiring, and music listening require the same presence doing a preset series of yoga require. And I can’t do that anymore. I should have known that as I gained something – the creative force of an artist – I also lost something; the contemplation of a yogi.
And that’s when the idea came; I m going to set up an inspirational yoga program, using quotes from the book I m reading, as well as music from Madonna. From the early beginnings to her latest album.
Total running time: 36 weeks, equaling 36 thirty minute playlist, 36 quotes from the book and 36 chapters of this book Reboot.
The first playlist is named after the first album; Madonna- Madonna.
And no one, not even me, knows what I m going to do on the mat.
Just that 30 minutes of freestyle yoga bears a closer resemblance to dance or other performance art than to yoga, and has a a higher chance of succeeding than anything bonafide yoga I tried to do on the mat for the last ten years.
So I m not going to “reboot” to a former version of me; Nor reinvent to being Charlize Theron in Atomic Blonde. For 36 weeks, I’m going to do what I should have done a long time ago;
I’m going to recreate myself.
An Unexamined Life is Not Worth Living
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