I said in my last post about the cougarling’s visit that he never replied to the ‘thank you’ email I sent him a few days after we parted.
I was concerned that I’d left him with hurt or anger or bad feelings, and thought that his lack of reply may have been a reflection of that.
But he did reply, finally, and long after I had reconciled myself to not hearing from him again.
I … Continue Reading
I was talking with a friend about representation of BDSMers and F/m in particular, and how important it is to see normal healthy F/m relationships, to see versions of ourselves, ‘people like us’, and how rare it really is.
In the F/m world, the only people who actively court publicity, who do marketing, who are quoted in the media, who show their faces openly, who make noise, are pro-Dommes and findoms. And marketing is inevitably … Continue Reading
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There are multiple reasons why I’m shit at casual. It’s not just one thing, but they all end up in the same shitpile.
I’m going to reiterate up-front that my inability to do casual is not the cougarling’s fault: He was, if anything, on the wrong side of my failed experiment, and that failure sits on my side.
The main issue is that I can’t work up passion for someone I’m not all that interested … Continue Reading
I want to talk about wider lessons I learnt about trying something casual, but I’ll do that in another post.
One of the things, though, is this: If we aren’t compatible, I really need to not talk to him.
Why?
Because it breaks the tenuous hold on ‘whatever this is’ that we have established.
I knew it with holy-fuck-beautiful-eyes, and told him explicitly: ‘no talking’. It worked. But those were short visits of a … Continue Reading
…continued from Cougarling, with rope of course
He worked himself loose, of course. When he wriggled his hands free from the rope, he looked at me in triumph.
“If I’d known you were going to fight your way out, I’d have tried harder…” I protested weakly.
He smirked, nodded indulgently at me.
Pushing him down onto his back, I took the length of rope, and wrapped it more firmly around his wrists this time, something … Continue Reading
Some light rope play in the morning. A pentagram chest harness. Easy enough, but not for her: Unskilled and clumsy, painstakingly following directions shown on a youtube video, backtracking, trying again.
He was patient, always. Happy enough to feel the rope on his skin, gentle kissing, her chin already scraped raw from the night before when he had arrived after a full day’s work, a flight, a drive, carrying his five o’clock shadow into his … Continue Reading
