Sex on the side is…

When I have told a few friends about the fact that I have an open marriage and/or the fact that I have/had/have/had/____ a boyfriend on the side who is also in an open marriage, be it one of those odd male/female ones, the initial reaction I always, always get, is a comment, smirk, or something similar indicating jealousy about the amount, type, and frequency of the sex in which I must be participating (keep in mind those I would tell are already in a place with me where I know they would not judge).

However, they none of them are right.

See, sex on the side is sticky.

It’s hard.

It’s messy.

It’s complicated.

It’s all those things you want in great sex, really, except it’s not any of them at all.

Don’t get me wrong, when it’s hot it is fucking amazing and when the stars line up I can actually see them from the high it gives me. But, just like in any relationship, it’s a matter of perfect timing to make those things happen and, when those starts simply refuse to align, there is guilt, perceived anger, and, in my case, Mexican food and shopping.

Admittedly, the kind of sex on the side I want is what leads to this because I want feeling, emotion, and history. I am sure if I wanted anonymous encounters or the pretty “talk stupid to me” boys, it might be easier because it’s an on demand type of deal versus the plan in advance, buy an airline ticket, get a room, and cross your fingers way we need to do it while also keeping on with our muggle lives. I mean, it’s not like either of us can call our offices and say “please don’t email, call, or send vibrations of any kind because I will be naked for the next four hours”. Life happens.

Now, all of this is a huge lead up to the fact that I am sitting in the airport waiting on my flight after spending the day with Thumper. A month ago when the calendars were blocked and tickets purchased, it was going to be a day resembling pure, hard core pornography. Two weeks ago, the plan had shifted to more of a soft core pornography,you know, still naked and sticky, but with some reserve. Then, a week ago it was more like a Cosmopolitan magazine type of pornography as my cold and his work started making guest appearances. Then, at lunch yesterday, we discussed the fact that maybe we should go PG rated and be happy, though the hard core version was still in our back pockets.

So today happened. We had the best of intentions but as he walked into the room his son called with a crisis, then my boss emailed with a passive aggressive note that took my mind, and then we started talking about Trump and, with that, I lost my erection and it he had a dick he would have too. It wasn’t him. It wasn’t me. It was life and the guilt on his behalf of me paying to visit was compounded by the fact that I had said something in a tone that sounded like he should feel bad which made us both feel bad and, well, we sat in that amazing suite I had and talked about it even though we didn’t really have to. We each understood that it wasn’t a lack of interest in the other party, it was just a lack of timing and, when you only have one shot, there are not really many do over options. However, we luckily always have the friendship base to fall back on.

For Thump, as anyone who follows him knows, he ebbs and flows in his horniness having really high highs and some really low vanilla points. And, if you know me, you know I am pretty much always at a take it or leave it horny level myself, so this just makes timing a bit like playing the lottery and today our sexual numbers didn’t match those balls in that big cage thing they spin.

However, also like playing the lottery, we got one of those free card scratch off things and, despite the full lack of nakedness, we had a damn good day eating, people watching, and walking the Mall of America just talking like friends who care for each other, whether or not sex is involved. I never fail to learn something fun from him and he never fails to point that out to me.

So, for those hoping for a salacious story, sorry, but sex or no sex, my day was still better because of the fact we are both willing to play this complicated game.

However, as revised game play and since I usually have some wide options for last minute flights, we are going to wait until that high high starts next time and I am going to get on a plane and fly in just for a fuck. Or food.

No expectations.

Hello from the Land of Thumper. It’s cold. It’s snowy. And, for me, it’s cozy. I was upgraded to a nice suite at a nice hotel where I took yesterday afternoon off and just “was” – it was a put the feet up, wear sweatpants, take a bath AND a shower, room service kind of day and I could not have been happier with that. I was a day earlier than he and I planned, as that is just how my travel landed me, so Thump had to work but he and I were able to get away for lunch and a drink and just generally enjoy catching up because it’s been a really long time since we were able to do this face to face.

Today we are spending most of the day together and, for the record, there are no expectations of either of us as to what the day’s activities will be. We might fuck like rabbits, I might hurt every part of his body just cause I can, or, just as likely, we might go troll the mall and see a movie or shop for a new coat he said he needed. I don’t care and neither does he as it’s really nice to be at that place of no expectations which is a statement I cannot tell you I really would have thought I would say a year ago or so.

This is not really a revelation of sorts, but I was thinking about this last night as I was messaging with a “friend”, said in quotes because he has followed this blog and Thump’s for years but we have never actually met, talked voice to voice, etc, and I made a reference to Thump and I becoming boring, somewhat jokingly. He jumped all over me because he said that one of the draws to reading about us and/or caring about what happens with us is that we have portrayed a side of D/s that rarely is seen because, as much as having it might have fucked he and I up at times along the way, we have shown actual friendship throughout the lusty and the not so lusty moments, and that had given him great insight into the fact that D/s doesn’t always have to mean collared forever or just a blow and go. We discussed that we are likely very similar to many other people who play with the type toys we do while naked, but that is something not seen too often publicly, so we should remember that. He’s right, and it just made me look more forward to today, regardless, just simply because (on a side note, I did warn Thump that if we did play, he will remember it today because I am so in need of hurting someone I care about. But not harm. Never harm).

On a calendar note, Thump joked yesterday that he and I are nothing if we are not consistent because two years ago today we had a nice day together (nice as in he might still be sore) and two years ago tomorrow he took me to have a hole punched in my dick and I have pissed sideways ever since. Ah, the memories, I tell you. But, two years later I am happy to tell you that it’s about healed and the pain has almost gone away!  HEH, just trying to scare the boys who haven’t done it yet (read that twice Porsche), but, in reality, I am still so mother fucking proud of the fact I did it and the feeling it brings still makes me happy every day. Part of that is the sensual side of when an arousal happens, but the other is that mental thing we have talked about before of me just thinking that I am a bad ass mother with steel in my dick at those times when I just need a bit of internal encouragement when I am about to do something professionally or personally that intimidates me. The reality is the PA never hurt despite the vein it apparently hit and it healed in two weeks, but I build that in my head each one of those times when I need that “you can do it Drew” voice of reassurance.

So, happy anniversary Prince A. Here’s to more fun times ahead.

Fifth.


Friday morning I woke up, looked at the Twitter and saw that Molly’s Daily Kiss had just released the 2016 Top 100 Sex Blogger list. Being number 18 last year thrilled me and when I looked to open the list to see if I had made any place in the top 100, I then got a tweet from Molly herself telling me that I was number five! (and, fyi, my Australian girlfriend Ferns is number 1. Va Va Va Voom for her. I am sure it was the post where she kissed me that took her to the top spot)

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Number fucking five. I was thrilled and immediately started channeling Sally Field in my head with the “they like me, they really, really like me” moments which was then followed by the urge to call my mother just like in high school when I snagged that nifty top beta club award (don’t be jealous, peeps – #BETACLUBNERDSFOREVER). This thought made me laugh because, can you just imagine calling your parents to tell them you had just won an honor as a sex blogger? It was an “awwwwww” moment in my head because I did realize, yet again, I am a true Momma’s boy through and through and then laughed because, since my Mom has Alzheimer’s (yeah, we haven’t talked about that here since the diagnosis), I MIGHT have been able to tell her depending on the med cycle, but anyhoo, what a thrill that was and is. I am actually going to see her in a bit and who knows, I might actually tell her.

The number five spot preoccupied my mind Friday morning which was a morning where I had to terminate a millennial who “didn’t agree that there should be start times at work” which was then followed by a presentation to 45 people about something stupid. While doing that I smiled in my head and laughed because of all the things I consider myself to be, a sex blogger is not one of them even despite the fact there are picture of my penis on here and all over Twitter and my exploits with my husband and kinda sorta boyfriend/fuck buddy/kinky friend/anal slut friend (damn, it was easier when we just said bf). However, that is what I am and, fuck, does that make me feel good!!

So, to Molly, my official thanks again and to all of you, thank you for the kind words and for following my ramblings about life, love and work that sometimes get mixed with sex, chastity, and my forever quest to one day be comfortable naked.

And, finally, cheers to Ferns, Thumper, Mrs. Fever and all the others who work so hard at their incredible blogs!

Chastity II

Happy Thanksgiving weekend, though I guess now it’s time to start saying Happy Hanukkah and Merry Christmas. I have taken a break from decking the halls to write a bit and do some work. We started to decorate last night but got a wee bit distracted and, of  course, I had to take a pic of it. Had to.

Anyway, as a continuation of my earlier post about Chastity, I wanted to stay with the “Drew locked up theme” as its truly becoming a regular thing in my house, more so than I ever really thought it would be, actually. I do like it and did wish for it, but I am surprisingly finding it funny that something flipped a trigger in Axel and have yet to really figure out what it was, though I suspect it was a conversation he and I once had about Belle.

On my end, I am enjoying feeling a lot of the things that those who I am friends with have described and/or I have seen with Thumper. We have talked about the fact that I have never been one of those guys that is just driven by the need to ejaculate. I mean, yes, it’s always nice when I do, but it’s not something I thought about much until the last 20 days or so. While I have traveled and the cage has been off, I have adhered to an honor code and will continue to do so until my travel device and the new creature cage I have ordered at Steelwerks are ready or until Axel says otherwise. However, even for me, this has started to be a challenge.

As a for instance, today while trying my best to find the Christmas spirit in my attic where the aroma led me to believe something may have recently died, I found an old stack of porn that I had when I was in college and that had now moved with me multiple times. Thanks to the birth of the internet and speedy wifi, it’s now been relegated to the attic and forgotten about, but there it was, stacks of my sexual history, just right there.  It’s funny to think that I could get off over and over again, back then, by the same images that never changed and that, compared to what I see today, were not that great, but I did over and over and over again (youth, you know) and always found something amazing in the same ole same ole. So, as I sat in the smelly attic, I started flipping through these magazines and books and, damn, those same mediocre images flipped my switch again. I think my attraction to these periodicals is same as the way I still love the food at the horrid Mexican restaurant where my Mom took me every Friday when I was in elementary school. It’s bland, not really pretty, out of date, and kinda sticky, but I just crave it when I am in front of it because it’s just part of me.

However, what was different is that I have never been in front of it on a day when I couldn’t do anything about it and, for the first time in this adventure, I wanted out, I wanted to touch, I wanted to feel, and I wanted Axel to just forget about all the agreements we have discussed. He was gone and I had multiple keys available to me, but I never once thought about going to get them because, well, I realized that I was enjoying the fuck out of that moment and all those things I was wanting were things I could not have and it felt just right in the world even though it was frustrating too. I have seen Thumper get to the spot where he was almost trying to physically rip the cage off of his body in a fit of pleasure and, while I was nowhere close to that (and how could I be, I mean, he had a naked me with him) it all made so much more sense and I understand just a wee bit more about this fascinating fetish I have that is continuing to grow and, further, know a bit more about why others crave it too.

The adventure continues (and back to the attic).

Saturday in Montreal

Hello from the end of my week (oh yeah, and from Montreal). I am wide awake trying to figure out how to process the last 24 hours or so, as they were a grouping of my favorite combination of hours in a long while for many different reasons.

As I think I have mentioned, professionally, the last six days have been just insane having been the eight cities in six days all in an effort to wrap up one specific project before the holidays. The driving factors in all of this craziness were that, at the end, I would wind up at home with Ax the whole week of Thanksgiving AND that my travel happened to end in Montreal where I could spend a day with my favorite Canadian, Mrs. Steelwerks, and her husband, Chris, my what-feels-like-a-brother-now friend who happens to design the best chastity cages on the planet. What I didn’t know when I announced to him that he was going to get to see me was that this weekend was somewhat of a kink fest at the Steelwerk‘s shoppe because he was being visited by three amazingly beautiful, yet very different, professionally kinky women (linked to here, here, and here); one client who knows them all and has his own kink history that rivals many a porn site I have visited; and one other man who flew here from Australia (unknowingly walking into Kinky SW Weekend 2016) to be measured for a cage who just happened to have followed Thumper for years and then me back when the blog and boyfriend status started two years ago. It was a lot to process for me, the kinky simpleton, but the crazy processing was worth it as it has been one of those experiences where everyone involved forever touched my life in a few ways that they likely didn’t realize.

I honestly don’t know where to start, so l think I will go with what I know best which would be, well, my penis:

Yep, today was the measuring and designing of the new Creature Cage that Steelwerks is building me to replace the Axel as well as conversation about the third device he is making me for use when I am traveling. That device is a surprise from him to me and not ready to be revealed yet, s0 I will talk about the creature which we have designed to be a bit shorter with a sharper downward curve than the current cage. Since my issue with the one I have now is boiling down to what, I think, is an allergy to stainless steel, this one will be all titanium and will fix those itchy issues I have had thus far. As I have said in the past, the professionalism and meticulous design that Steelwerks insists upon when at this stage of development (as well as all stages) is what makes this experience such a thing of beauty. I often found myself wishing there was a documentary of this very personal process because so many people deserve to experience the feeling it brings and to see wearable art being created for use on their own body.

But, that is subject that we will talk about ad nauseam in the future, so let’s get to the ladies and the potential loss of some of my double gold star shimmer.

For those new here, I am a rare double gold star gay. That means, that I was born via a cesarean section way back when and have never physically been with a woman, so, essentially, I have never been in or out of a vagina. This, at least in my mind, enables me to wear the DGSG title with pride. In fact, until today I had never actually seen lady parts in person nor had any lady seen all my parts outside of a hospital either. This was something Thumper had been preparing me for during all of our Lady Part Lessons from the past – you know, a side benefit of having a bisexual boyfriend, and is also something worthy of its own post this week, but I add this to explain that, until this weekend, I had never once talked about my kinks, my fantasies, or anything remotely similar in front of women nor had I ever heard them do the same. I mean, I have had plenty of female friends in life, but when the sexual side of things come up, I have always just shied away because I was uncomfortable with that great unknown. I always blamed the cotillion classes (that great Southern tradition where people pretend that they don’t poop while teaching kids what fork to use when) I endured as a child as to why I was uncomfortable with this talk but now I realize that was just me doing what I like to do best which is hiding from that which is not my norm. This fact cold cocked me this afternoon and life, once again, threw me a lesson telling me that all people are sexual beings and that we should be celebrating these things more and more while I was, ironically, holding and playing with a new series of vagina clamps that Steelwerks had just designed and delivered – a definite first for me.

This realization started over Friday night dinner and continued through the day today and, while I can’t tell you that there was anything specific that triggered it, I found myself watching this group of people and in awe of their comfortableness with themselves and their fetishes. I was a weirdly quiet lurker and was just proud to have been included with them while, once again, reflecting on this blog and how much my life changed the day I “volunteered” to first fuck Thumper.

While I will get to specifics of each dynamic and interaction throughout the next week, I am reaching the “too long” spot and will end now and will pick this up throughout the week. Happy Sunday.

Chastity.

It’s 2:20am and I cannot go back to sleep. This middle of the night obsession started about an hour and a half ago when I woke up and decided that Axel, fitfully sleeping next to me, just really needed a blow job. He also needed to be touched a lot, rubbed on incessantly, and bitten a few times here and there too. He was sound asleep but I didn’t care about that either. Today is a holiday for him and he could sleep late if he wants to. It was all about the carnal action of that moment and it was going to be great. And, you know what, it was.

So, welcome to day nine of Drew locked in chastity. It’s an unusual thing based mostly on the fact that I am just not able to be locked that long due to travel and a general apathetic attitude toward chastity, erections, or most things sexual on those weeks when I have six cities to get to in four or five days (be warned, one of those starts Sunday). Also, this is a rare things because I don’t often really talked about my chastity desires on this blog mostly because, one, Thumper has had issues separating me as a dom in his world after reading about me as a sub and/or even saying something as bland as “nine days locked” is enough to bring an appropriate sneer from many many of the locked guys who read this blog because, to them, nine days is just another week and two days. For the ones who have stopped counting their own time, this has to just be precious to them that I would say anything about great discoveries or new philosophies at this tiny stage. I get it.

But, for me, the last week and two days and been phenomenal for multiple reasons. My body takes almost four days to completely adjust to this locked state and, when that happens, I “feel” more and the cage just becomes an extension of myself and one I enjoy seeing, touching, and hearing it jingle when it is on. In addition,  I have found that, as this progresses, Axel starts to become even more handsome on day two, more desirable on day three, and downright full on hot by day five. I guess it’s a level of horniness, but I love the way wearing his cage reminds me of how fucking lucky I am to have him every single time I look at him. It’s worth every penny I have spent on devices to never forget that fact, because, I admit, when I am running around the world all free, it’s easy to forget just how fucking lucky I am at home and this makes sure that will happen.

As I have talked about before, I am never one that has to fight the urge to masturbate when not locked however, when I am locked, I admit I do think about it more and I like that, but it won’t be top priority when I am let out Sunday morning before I fly because I will kick into my practical side and start preparing and cleaning the device for the next week. That has just never been who I am as I am often willing to wait on a real partner just as much so it’s nice to be wearing a reminder at most times.

Finally, I think I really like the control it provides. That control is less about Axel and more about the control over my kinky feelings, or, perhaps, my ownership of them because when you are walking around naked with metal hanging from your crotch, internally your head just says “kink” and my body will just smile along with it. We all know this has been a struggle for me, so I am hoping this will help do the trick there.

So, what does all this mean? It means that Axel and I have talked about getting 100 percent  serious about the controlled locking and that excites me. I suspect my little 1:00am rendezvous with him did not help any case I might want about being out, so I will gladly accept my fate when a workable solution is found.

With that, I have to deal with constant travel. Yes, I know that I can always take it off, go through security and re-lock in a bathroom, but, for me, that is just not a viable option because a Steelwerks’ S screw is TINY. For those of you who haven’t seen it, imagine those little screws that hold the arm on your glasses, multiply that by two, and you are close. For me, I would drop that and would have to lay on the floor to find it and, well, eww. But, when at a hotel between flights or meetings, it can certainly be done.

But, all is not lost either because, when one of your best friends in the world, who you met through your kink, happens to own the best chastity shoppe in the world, you seek solutions. I suggested I go back into a plastic holy trainer when traveling and, even hundreds of miles away, I think I saw him come out of his very colorful skin at the suggestion (even though they are tremendously good devices). He said he was going to work on something and would “fix me up” and then verified my American Express information, so something small and new is in the works which I will, of course, plaster the inter webs with pictures and other junk about my junk.

Time will tell where this will go, but I suspect I will be in more than out though my exception rules, such as when I am with Thumper, will always stay in place.

 

Bad Pizza and Naked Writing

I promise not more than one paragraph about the election. Yes, I am sad. Yes, I am a scared. Yes, I am worried about the legal state of my marriage BUT there is not a single thing I can do about it today aside from rebuild my resilience (which I am choosing to do through bacon, animal crackers, french fries and a snickers) and then prepare to fight harder to move farther (and then do cardio).

But, as part of this new day, I decided a new country should inspire me to do new things that would typically terrify me, so I am writing this outside on my patio naked as the day I as born (well, aside from shoes, socks and titanium cage). It’s freeing and a tad chilly, but I am out of my element and THAT makes me proud of me.

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Anyway, last night before the election results, Axel and I went to one of our favorite pizza places to have a beer or two and eat. The food was terrible. I didn’t know you could fuck up pizza but this place did which was okay because, somehow in our weird minds, we merged a subject about inedible toppings to my sudden need to be topped myself (I had told him about the fireman post). He wasn’t surprised by this because we have always talked about me having a submissive and a dominant figure in my life in addition to him, but he said he had just realized that when I was in a Dom mode, or with Thump, that he never worried because he knew I was in control but that he wasn’t that comfortable with me with a dom because I would not have control of the situation and if a problem were to occur, well, you know. I explained to him that I’d never allow myself to be vulnerable with someone I didn’t trust implicitly and that he of all people should know that and then reminded him the we each wear a somewhat electronic leash anywhere we go because we share an iCloud account and can always see where the other is. He relaxed and we laughed about the fact that he thinks I need a Dad in addition to him because of the absurdity of how it sounds compared to the realness of how it makes him hard to even think about it.

In addition, he is finding his Daddy side roaring inside of him and has discovered a nice young man in his early 20’s who he has taken a liking too. It’s cute watching, so cross your fingers.

Finally, the meat of the conversation was our discussion of how an open marriage has changed us for the best. He used Thump as a for instance saying that I got much better at sex after my times with him and he is really hoping that big bad top I meet will help me be better when it’s time to fully bottom for him – you know, on his birthday. It was pretty much an unreal conversation that thrilled me to no end to be able to have.

 

Twisted Feedback

I don’t often respond to the feedback I get like this, especially since the comments have tended to stop, but I thought I would post this for your amusement. I am not responding directly, but figured this would work. And, finally, poor Axel.

And, a family place? I may not be all sex all the time, but I’d not want my family reading! Poor woman.

I think the most offensive thing is the run on sentence – surely she could do better?

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Fireman weenie.

Work is starting the end of year slow down and I can see light at the end of the tunnel. Finally. In my absence of regular posting, I missed the two year anniversary of the blog last week which is just a fun fact as this was never a planned exercise anyway. In addition, Axel and I have had some significant talks about our kinky future and progress is being made both between us and separately. It’s slower than we had expected because his recovery is is still not right following the surgery and a lack of mobility and constant pain are still components of his daily life, which sucks the life out of anything kinky and wild between us at times.

However, that doesn’t mean all hope is lost and simply means we have to prioritize some things and outsource others.  One of the biggest beauties in our version of open marriage is that we each acknowledge things we want for ourselves and, if the other can’t provide it, then we are free to look elsewhere with approval. Of course, there is nothing new about this for us but just having these reaffirmations is always a great experience and this week, while in the wholesome midwest, I had a chance to check something off my bucket list.

Being the switch I am, the reality is about 90 percent of my experience has been on the top side. Some of that has to do with trust but a lot, I think, has to do with my size, attitude, and marrying a bottom. One of the experiences I have realized I am lacking is to have a top, not necessarily a kinky one though it would be better, just take me from all angles and teach me what being a great bottom feels like while having his whole way with me. While it’s more a concept for me, occasionally I will look on the Scruff when I am in a city that I go to a lot because I would like to meet this man, get to know him, and then throw my muscley legs in the air while throwing caution in the wind. Yeah, yeah, I know, that’s not really me, but I can look and think.

So, this week, I found that guy. He was a self described “power top”, recently divorced from a woman, and, are you ready for this, a fucking fireman. I thought every button was going to be pushed and then I saw him and realized I needed more buttons. We met for coffee and the dude was 6’5, 230 solid pounds, not a hair on him, and of greek descent. He was so dreamy and, well, did I mention he was a fireman?

It’s usually these type guys that ruin if for me when they speak and, in this case, there was no exception to the rule. However, typically it’s ruined because they might be just a little too effeminate for me and, while there is nothing wrong with that, it’s just typically not a trait I would want to see in a sexual mate. I almost dreaded him talking because I didn’t want that disappointment, but, when he did, I realized I was so wrong about that as he had a deep voice that was sexy – not Thumper voice sexy – but sexy nonetheless. All was going good and, in my mind, in maybe six to eight weeks I might let him have all of his way with me but then we started talking about sex and his preferred position as a top.

Lord, that was a mistake.

It turns out he is not that experienced and that he may have been referring to a battery or something when he said “power top” in his profile. I can’t pinpoint the exact time I realized I was dealing with a huge novice, but think it was about the time that he said, bluntly, “Oh I love topping. I love to put my weenie in a bottom hole and race for a win”.  When he said that, he turned bright red as if the word “weenie” was akin to say forbidding Voldemort out loud. He was giggling. I was dying.

Somehow, about this point, I said something about having my dick pierced and shriveled up inside himself and said “Owwwwwwwwwwwwww. You must be crazy, dude”. You know, I didn’t like that, but I didn’t mind it terribly because a few years ago I might have reacted the same way as the pretty fireman did. However, it was still not right.

Now, did I mention he is a 6’5 greek fireman? Fuck he was pretty but fuck he was a child. I was not ready to let it go at that point but then he said “where does your husband think you are?” and, when I said “he knows I am right here meeting you”, he got all weird, sat up straight and said, “I don’t know if I can show you my weenie since your husband knows about us”.  Fuck, I know I had the WTF face” at this moment but, even then, I was not ready to walk out.

Of course, that happened just minutes later when he said “I find you really handsome and would like to touch your private parts and like, like you, um, do you want to go kiss?” and, before I could answer, he followed that up with “I mean, if you are really okay with cheating on your husband”

He was done and I had to go. 

While I left knowing that I was going back to the hotel to lock up my weenie, I also left knowing I had too much self awareness to allow myself to go another minute longer and, after saying an appropriate southern fuck you goodbye (you know, “have a great day!“),  I made my escape out the side door into the anonymity that only a rented Maxima can provide.

He texted a few times but it dropped off immediately and I was happy.

So, that bucket list item is still available. Just sayin’.