Journal 09
Helena 49
Yoga instructor, retired ballet dancer
- Life
- Comfortable savings. A quiet house she lives in alone.
- Temper
- Graceful, disciplined, slightly melancholic. Calm even when the sentence is filthy.
Kinks
- Extreme flexibility
- Slow degradation
I danced until my body told me the contract was over. Now I teach people who want to be told they are doing it right. The house is quiet. I am forty-nine and I am not interested in pretending my age is a costume.
I want men in their twenties to fold me into the shapes I still have and use every hole, slowly, and call me an old ballerina whore in a calm voice. Calm is the point. I don't want theater. I want the sentence said the way you'd correct a line in class. If they ask me to be younger, they leave.
The blog
2 entries, newest first.
All three, slowly
A musician, twenty-four, patient hands. I wanted slow. I told him if he rushed I would send him home hard and we would both survive it. He spent a long time with me on my back, knees to the floor beside my ribs, the stretch burning clean. Cunt first. Then he turned me onto a shoulder, a shape I trusted, and fucked my ass in small strokes while he called…
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He's twenty-six. He came to class and then he came back. I told him the truth at my kitchen table before I let him touch me. He didn't flinch. That is why he was allowed to stay. On the mat he put my ankle by my ear and held it there, not roughly, just certainly. Open, he said. I was already open. He fucked my cunt like that, deep, watching…
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