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Some might call me a greedy do-me submissive type with no serious commitment to the lifestyle. They would be correct. I have been in a long term D/s relationship in the past, learned a great deal, and have no desire to enter another one. I am all about the play. It is not that I don't understand the dynamics or the concept of power exchange (authority), it is just I choose not to participate in it. I figure if you like to choke/fist/beat/pierce/slap me and I enjoy it, it works out for us both.
If forced to classify myself I'll go with bisexual poly-friendly switch with smart ass tendencies and both sadistic and masochistic streaks.
The intensity of the experiences are what attracts me to the play/scening. My preferences lean towards edge play. This makes it hard to find a scene partner since I am too lazy to invest much time in building trust or forming a relationship. Such a dilemma.
I am in a primary long term relationship with a non-bdsm non-poly type. He does not understand exactly, but he is fully aware and accepts my choices.
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One day my kids will understand why I rejoice at seeing the Christmas tree reduced to a pile of lifeless limbs in a box. They will experience a great "Now I get it" when the stuffed Santas and glass balls are shoved back into their cardboard cubicles and hidden away in the darkest corner of the basement.
In many ways, Christmas sucks. The pressure to be happy and grateful leads to panic and hollowness. The credit card bills mount. Ghosts of Christmas past surround you. Family is to be endured.
New Year's redeems itself only in the fact that it is the one day of the year it is permissible to get mule-fucking drunk and not even the Baptists can say a word, because you saw the pastor at the liquor store, secreting away a bottle of Peach Schnapp's. I don't even drink, but I like the concept just the same.
One day my kids will understand why I stubbornly I refuse to cook black-eyed peas and cabbage on New Year's Day. Hell, none of us likes them. And where's the luck?
They will understand why the holidays suck like a toothless whore because they will grow up and they will know that the only luck to be had is that which lies between their ears or between their legs and the only real holiday is one where your feet are up and your blood pressure is down.
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Recently a women shared with me her diapproval of pornography. I would just like to go on record that I am pro-porn. I don't watch it all the time, but I like to have the option.
A few years back I found a rare night where I was completely alone at the house. So, I decided to turn on the DVD and watch Lesbian Seductions 2 at a "you're almost in her pussy" volume level. I was sitting on the couch, about to take care of business as the two lovely lasses on the giant screen began to suck each other's nipples. Just your typical vanilla lipstick lesbian stuff.
Right about that time, there was a knock at the front door. I grabbed the remote, hit pause and then went to the door to find a guyand a girl, both of whom looked to be about 17 years old... and they
were holding the Watchtower. That's right... Jehovah's Witnesses. I did live in Smalltown, KS after all.
Right as the girl began to go through her brainwashed Jesubabble, I realized that I hadn't quite hit that pause button hard enough. From the living room, the three of us were greeted with "Yes... lick my pussy. Oh, GOD!"
I immediately fixated on the girl, whose face contorted into this look ofhorror that I can't even describe. I tried to think of something to say... but all I could come up with was, "Yeah, I'm a littlebusy right now. Sorry." And then I closed the door and nearly hyperventilated from laughing.
Before anyone asks, I still rubbed one out. I just did it thinking about that little Jehovah's Witness chick. Hey, crazy religious beliefs aside, she was fuckin' CUTE!
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I've been thinking about 2005 in general and wondering why it was all so f'ed up. Even more important, why didn't I see it coming? All the warning signs were there. But despite my separation and adjusted standard of living, the irrational conversations with the insane, the cancer scares, the threats-to-future-funding, the deaths, the alcoholics, the crackheads, and the overall disfunction or ineptness of many around me -- I had a pretty good year. I strengthened some old friendships and established some new ones. My unmentionables are healthy and happy. I made some mistakes but learned some things about myself. I have a job I enjoy and the opportunity to be involved with a magazine I helped create.
Plus, I had some good sex in 2005. Oh yeah.
With that in mind, I made a few resolutions for the new year.
Take care of myself.
The usual things apply – long hot bubble baths, a new pair of earrings now and again, and the occassional indulgence in public scening. I’ll renew my Curves membership, drink less Coke, and buy a new Pearl Rabbit.
Get a divorce.
Seriously. I have another court date. I think this is it. I may be divorced before my 15th anniversary after all.
Avoid arrest.
Not only am I going to refrain from being arrested, but I thought I might avoid involvement with people in general who are prone to arrest. This will limit my contact with certain family members and possible an ex-sex-buddy or two, but I am ready to make that commitment.
No online whoring.
Okay, maybe trading a week in Monterey or a cruise to Mexico for a kinky weekend with an online “friend” is not exactly prostitution – but close enough. In the future I resolve to only sleep with people for the sake of sex alone, and not for any unspoken material gain. In fact….
No more sleeping with strangers I meet on the Internet.
Unless he is way cute, has highlights in his hair and plays the guitar. Or has that bad-boy but deliciously vulnerable quality. Or gives good foot massages and says Ma'am with a lilt. But other than that, definitely no. Now, I mean it! |
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This is a random musical rant.
Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah. With such a stupid name, I figured they must be good. I listened to one song and decided they are not. God do they suck. They suck loud. They suck hard. They suck dead donkey. They are the Kings of Suckalonia. If I meet them, I will hit each of them over the head with a Fender Stratocaster, saying, "Pete Townsend says hi,!" and when they are stunned, I will fight them.
I get nothing from listening to a singer who is a cross between the chick singer from 80s new wave band Missing Persons and a prepubescent Peter Brady. He kinda sounds like the lead singer for the Violent Femmes, but without the talent.
Okay, so then I accidentally heard another song by them. Maybe I should clarify: the band, instrumentally, is pretty solid. Very textured. The I heard them again. The lead vocals are kinda catchy. And now...they are kinda of starting to grow on me. I think I really like it.
This is EXACTLY how it happened with anal sex too.
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I was flipping through the channels late last night and came upon a movie starring Scott Valentine. You know - Mallory's boyfriend Nick from Family Ties? I was wet for him back in the day so I decided to watch.
Big mistake. This basic plot is Valentine turns into an evil Satanic creature when he is horny. Like a werewolf thing, only the transformation occurs as his erection comes out instead of the moon. Interesting. I have potentially known a few men like this. Women too.
I'm not sure which part turns me on more, the part where he rides her like a goat, or the part where she beats him in the face with a shovel.
Damn love stories. |
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I recently received a few email proclaiming me as an ideal woman. While I appreciate the sentiment, I want to put a halt to that nonsense pronto.
My feet are exceedingly ugly and my personality is borderline disordered. My roots are white trash and I am amazingly poor at recalling names. I have lost my car keys approximate 127 time this year, and once I thought they might be stuck in my enormous cavern of a vagina. Until recently I was woefully inadequate in the lifestyle basics. I had to look up the word cuckold, request a definition of queening and still am unsure if “very strict” is code for "a-hole." I thought Sybian referred to the mountains in Ethiopia. |
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