Upcoming post preview: My very first, real, live, official kink event.

I will be away for an extended weekend, so won’t be able to post as soon as I’d like. But I’m in a sharing mood, so here are a few of the puzzle pieces that make up my latest adventure. When we put the puzzle together sometime next week, the completed scene should strike somewhere between Secretary and outtakes from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory... Continue reading

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Getting rammed by a middle aged woman with a sizable strap-on cock. (Plus, my take on service.)

Smack! Smack! Smack! Smack!

“From now on, you’ll remember that Mistress does not like hard massages.” Smack! her palm came down on my ass cheek again, this time the left one. “What will you remember?”

“Mistress doesn’t like hard massages!”

“That’s correct. Now try again.” Continue reading

Wine, cheese, and rimjobs: My first scene with a married Dom couple.

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

Latex gloves and bourgie threesomes.

To clarify: no, it hasn’t happened yet. But I’m revving up for (finally!) a play date with Hawai’i (her) and Rocket Man (him), the Domme/switch couple I messaged with on ALT.com.

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.

Better every year, baby.

Better every year, baby.

Continue reading

“Is it in yet?”

Damn. Damn, damn, damn, damn. This is a conundrum.

My first date with Fiji (read about it here) was a breath of fresh air. A hurricane of it, really. He came off as witty, liberal, kind-hearted, well rounded, kinky, intelligent, and totally confident in himself. (I failed to mention previously that he also makes a pretty ridiculous 6-figure salary. Handy.) He had me laughing, and opening up, and nodding in agreement all evening, and flirting like crazy. And his kiss was perfection.

The sex, though. God dammit. The sex was not perfection.

Okay, honey. That's great.

Okay, honey. Uh huh. That’s great.

Continue reading

Screw Loose Honey meets her match.

“You make such adorable faces when you squirm.” Fiji — what I’ll name the 6′ tall, 33-year-old, Fijian-Canadian tech executive I snagged off of OkCupid — shot an amused grin at me over our two bottles of Pinot Grigio. He had a small amount of extra padding around the middle, sported a chin-strap beard, and was dressed too casually for the place, yet I was finding him ridiculously sexy all the same. Continue reading