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

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.

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It’s all in the anticipation.

A. certainly has a way with words. On the topic of orgasm denial:

Even something as simple as seeing a roll of tape will make your mind imagine being wrapped in bondage tape. Or seeing a piece of string will make you see yourself tied up with rope. Heaven forbid you see any chains, even thin silver necklace ones, and you’ll see yourself shackled to a bed in cold, hard, unforgiving steel. Soon practically anything will arouse you, as everything becomes a reminder that you’ve effectively locked away you’re needy little pussy in a chastity belt and handed the key to a strange man you’ve never even met.

We all know how SHE'S gonna turn out...

We all know how SHE’S gonna turn out…

For the purpose of ramping up the denial, A. asked me if I am up for some edging (getting right up to the point of climax and then backing down). Continue reading

Casting a line, hoping to get dragged out to sea.

“The fun part of denial is that the more you want to cum, the more your subconscious will churn on the fact that this most intimate of body parts no longer belongs to you, but to someone else.”

I’m bundled up in bed in the middle of the night, hungrily reading through my texts from a 47-year-old married man who is potentially to be my Dom. Yes, we are talking the full-on BDSM Master/slave type of Dom. Holy fuck. How did I get here…

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