As a widower of three years, I have discovered something very important about myself: I am broken and putting together the pieces is messy business. But by some quirk of the universe, I find myself living with a woman 20 years my junior and trying to negotiate each other's brokenness. Not easy or comfortable. After one particularly prickly emotional meltdown and subsequent reconciliation, we decided our relationship best resembled a plane crashing into a train wreck. And so this occasional feature was born. I try to recapture some of the emotional stability I had before my wife'a death three yeats ago while trying to be a good relationship partner for a 46-year-old woman suffering a variety of physical and mental challenges.
We are both members of the local kink community. I identify as a cisgen, heterosexual, monogamous submissive/masochist. She identifies as a primal pansexual switch. And since we can barely navigate a simple relationship, we haven't even considered a dynamic relationship.
Oh yes. Especially on a bare wet or oiled bottom. With bristles scrubbing the inner cheeks raw. Finished up with a rubbing alcohol spritz or some liberally applied tiger balm and a long sit-down.