I wrote this on a discussion board recently:
Wilful disobedience is a signal that something is wrong, and if you don’t understand and fix the underlying problem, it’s a fast path to nowhere.
My boy has been wilfully disobedient recently. It *is* a signal that something is wrong, I *do* understand what the problem is, but I can’t fix it. *We* can’t fix it, even though we both want to. We are on a path … Continue Reading
Flesh on flesh, I am shoving at him, keeping my body off his cock (my cock), no contact there, but otherwise I am all over him with limbs everywhere, skin slipping against him, my mouth open and demanding, feeding off him with the violence of need. He is splayed open on the bed and I am pushing and smashing against him, he is desperate to do what I want, aroused and hungry and confused.
I … Continue Reading
You hit me once
I hit you back
You gave a kick
I gave a slap
You smashed a plate over my head
Then I set fire to our bed…
A kiss with a fist is better than none…
… Continue ReadingSomehow when my boy is sweet to me, looks after me, cares for me, does something incredibly moving… when he wraps me up like that, it highlights our dynamic, and the contrast is part of what splits me wide open, breaks me into little pieces and shines a spotlight on the differential.
When I am predator and he is prey, he becomes small, soft, like a lion suddenly in a kitten’s tiny fuzzy body, he … Continue Reading
I am already crashing up against him on the way home, seeking impact. He sees the aggression before we get inside, he probably saw it building hours before, and fed it quietly all night long… slipping scraps under the table into the hungry maw when I wasn’t looking. We are still giggling and being silly as I push him police-style into the apartment.
“Only cuts and bruises, no permanent damage please!” he declares. He makes … Continue Reading
We are going out, he grabs my coat and holds it open for me.
“Broken wing first!”, he blurts out quickly before I have even moved.
I look at him, “Which is it?”
He smiles, knows I am not kidding, I am hopeless. He nods at my right arm and holds the sleeve coat forward so that I can slip my hurt arm into it first.
I wince when I move it, which makes him … Continue Reading
We are sitting close, touching, stroking, heading home on the subway after an evening out with friends.
“I can’t wait until we get home and do some kissing…”
I shake my head. “No kissing…” I whisper.
He smiles at me, amused and puzzled. “No kissing?!”
I smile back and lean into him. “No.”
“Cuddling?”
“No, when we get home, you are going to stand naked in the corner…”
He laughs, I look at him, he … Continue Reading