I pulled my old clunker up to a beautiful suburban condo overlooking the water.
“Welcome, welcome!” Rocket Man said cheerfully as he opened the heavy front door. “Come on in!”
Photographs of babies, pets, and vacation spots followed me up the staircase and into a crisp, rather mod living room. Placed tastefully around the room were what looked to the layman’s eye like Japanese art. In the center of the room stood a 7-foot-tall bamboo tripod structure, the top bound in rope and suspending a large metal ring. I had a feeling I knew who was going to be tied to that tripod. Continue reading →
I got together with them over drinks and dinner a little while ago, and was blown away. First of all, their photo didn’t do them justice. Yes, they’re in their 40s no matter which way you swing it. But, shit, they’re aged like a fine ass wine. I was attracted. Box #1: checked.
Craigslist is the dude who swears he and your cousin are best buds, who gives a fake I.D. to the bouncer (but you aren’t sure whether it’s because he’s underage or a wanted felon), and then takes his shirt off and hits on girls relentlessly all night.
OkCupid is the sorority chick who just sits at the bar on her iPhone, but is constantly glancing up in the hopes of catching someone checking her out.
Meanwhile, ALT.com, the older gentleman who orchestrated the whole party, spends the night sober and mingling politely, passing out name tags, swapping business cards, and telling both the men and the women about his sexual fetish for pony play. Continue reading →
It’s not entirely for lack of options. There’s a lovely couple whom I’ve got in the works, but I’m trying to decide whether that’s in fact what I want to go for at the moment. I like the idea of trying out one of those relationship thingamajigs again — albeit with someone who can match my kink this time. With my Master’s program and part-time work among other obligations, I frankly don’t think I have time to juggle real dating along with threesomes and whatever other sexcapades I decide I want to try out.
Woe is me, what a life I must endure…
But mahhhhm, I don’t want to choose. Can’t I have the Meet The Parents Pop AND the Eiffel Tower Taffy?
[First paragraph is in response to A. worrying about tension between us if he were to help an old sub to move in late May:] “If I can just be blunt: I really don’t care. …It’s certainly nothing that has to be figured out 2 months in advance. I know you are a one-sub guy, but let’s please not pretend like we’re in a monogamous relationship. You’re married. I’m dating other people. I wouldn’t have walked into this situation if I had any intention of being territorial. I understand where you’re coming from, though, and it was thoughtful to check in with me about it.