Inside the Mind

Last night I posted a little story about an orgasm. It was a fun little moment and one I am, frankly, still thinking about.  Of course, part of the joy in that yesterday was that it was a bit unexpected because, frankly, it’s just been one of those weeks where getting older yourself means you have to watch those you love get older too which, this week, made both Axel and myself confront a few things I am not sure either of us are ready to deal with.

First, Axel’s father was officially diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. This was not surprising news, but just enough to make the mood dour. Then, my mother who you have all sorta unofficially met fell and broke her shoulder which resulted in the need to have a full replacement surgery done earlier in the week. I was traveling and decided not to come home for this procedure as it was not technically anything dangerous aside from the typical anesthesia related troubles, so I spent my week glued to my iPhone and told anyone and everyone I was meeting with that I would be answering it or looking at texts as needed (my sister and Axel were with her and my Dad).

She did fine through the surgery, but when it was time to wake up, she didn’t at first. In fact, it took her almost eight hours to actually wake up and, when she did, she was extremely incoherent and really didn’t know what had happened or where she was. This signaled possible stroke which caused me to get a really early flight the next morning but, luckily, all of the tests for stroke, clots, and anything else bad came back negative. Our best guess is that she had a bad reaction to the anesthesia and was just going to take some time to get it out of her system (FYI – it’s now Sunday, she is home and is about 90% to the level she should be mentally).

So, when all the worry was over, we sat back and listened to her talk. Incessantly talk. It was about anything and everything which was sometimes fun because she once said she was “in a Mercedes surrounded by butterflies”, sometimes sweet – which is a quote I will close with, and sometimes just scary as she talked to the men in white robes standing in her room, talked to her dead father and complimented him on his new suit, and then said she saw demons who were eaten by the butterflies. Me being me, I wrote down almost everything I could. My sister being my sister, she talked to the invisible people with my Mom.

However, the real fun was about sex and, as Thumper said to me on the phone, “she is just just spilling her subconscious and you are really getting to see the inside of her head” which was very true. I was not at the hospital yet when my sister texted me to ask “Who is this guy in Minnesota that she keeps talking about? His name is Peter?” (fyi, my Mom knows nothing about Thumper being called Thumper, a rabbit, etc. She knows his real name which is NOT Peter -it’s Garrison Keiler, remember?- but I find it so so funny that she would pick a name out of the air of someone who just happened to have a Cottontail. She has that weird intuition like that). She continued, “She says he has a wife who has a beautiful soul because of what she lets him do”. Luckily, I was able to blow that off with a “Have no idea what she is saying. NONE” which was wonderful for me, but sad for my sister because it was around that point that she started discussing my father’s penis which is apparently not very long but very girthy and the fact that he likes women in short skirts. She was in hell and I was on a plane giggling about this.

From what I understand, the topic switched quickly to something of nonsense and that was that. I landed, picked up lunch for an army at Panera, and then went to the hospital, sent the sister home, sent my Dad to my car twenty different times for things I needed – one at a time – because he was all weepy and sad and irritating me, and I stayed and talked to my nonsensical mother for a few hours. I will spare you the story of how she was arrested – the night before – and was apparently talking to me from her jail cell when all of the sudden she said “you know, your father always likes to be hurt – down there. I never understood this, but I don’t mind” which was then followed by a story about a duck. A duck named Squiggles. Trying to get the topic back on hand because of my curiosity and the fact a duck should never be named Squiggles, I peppered her with questions and questions and got nothing right until she said “When your Dad had his man friend” and, if like there was a cue card guy in the hall prompting him, my Dad walked right in and she stopped. Just right fucking there. She stopped. For the next hour I tried to prompt it again, but it never happened.

So, what the fuck, huh?

Could my Dad have been the 1970’s Thumper? (I’m picturing a chastity device made of tin foil and wood). I have no idea and, honestly, not sure I want to know because I have woven a nice story in my mind already.  I mean, we already know from other clues that my Dad most likely went outside the marriage at some point but, while he is alive, I am not sure she will ever admit it or tell me the things behind it. What I do love about that, even if Dad cheated, or if it was mutual, or if he was a kinky sadist or most likely a masochist, a bisexual with a boyfriend or just male tricks, the fact is that they have made it 56 years and still light up when they see each other, so that’s just happiness right there and I want to just use that story to say FUCK YOU to anyone who dares just any of us reading this.

As a final few things, I have to wonder why she is so fixated on Thumper and Belle from me just telling her that one story about him reading texts from his boyfriend in bed with her. She is highly intuitive and I bet she knows the boyfriend is me, but she is also now and has always been extremely accepting, loving and open, so maybe it’s just something that caught her attention because it’s not what the BUNCO crowd normally talks about. One day I am sure we will talk further, but, I am fine with how it is now too.

Finally, I told you I wrote down the crazy stories, but my favorite is this because it shows all the craziness in her head combined with how she thinks about me too:

“The staff in the women’s department at this hospital have just been lovely. Would you believe they have helped me pick out this wonderful gown and these leg warmers. Drew, Drew, you need to go to the men’s department. Just take my American Express and get yourself something in blue, cause your my boy. Get Axel something too. Blue. A good blue for his eyes”

Chastity with a side of Blowjob

It’s been a pretty emotional week in the House of Dual and one that does not seem to have any quick resolve (blog tomorrow). All of the things that are causing this stress are outside of mine and Axel’s relationship and have nothing to do with our sex life; however, I expected that, like most stressful times, the sex would just have to wait.

I was wrong.

See, something I have not really talked about here in depth, but hinted about many a time is that Axel sees me in chastity as a way of controlling the times I orgasm versus denying my orgasm. Simply put, he likes it when I come and he likes me to come a lot, just when he says so. I know it technically means the same end result that I don’t get to choose when or how, but he really has no interest in keeping me from it as long as he is in the know of when it happens. Hanging out with the rabbit and my denied gang on Twitter, I have often had a hard time seeing this as such. Case in point, as instructed, when I arrived home from my trip yesterday I locked up – something that had been in place the whole week I was gone as I was locked when not in an active airport situation all week. All was going well today and when we took a nap, I got a bit flirtatious and he said “go get your key and take that off”.

My heart fell a bit at first because I did not want to take it off. I was happy to service him and go about my day and see how it felt to just wait until I fly out Monday morning – but he had other ideas. In my head I could hear Thumper’s voice saying “It’s not about you” so, begrudgingly, at first, I took my naked locked self downstairs to find his keyring and I went back, unlocked and slipped the cage and PA fixing out. Being rather excited about this whole thing meant that the A ring was not coming off – at all, so I decided to just tidy up as is and use that as a cock ring since I really had no other choice and then present myself to Axel all shiny, fresh smelling and naked like.

Now, one thing that is also a tad different with us is that in this particular chaste gay coupling, the one with the locked cock does not actually equal the bottom exclusively. I guess this is not something one has to even think about when it’s a straight-ish lock up. For us, it’s really no secret that, even if I want him to control our relationship in some ways, we pretty much work best when he is on the receiving end sexually. It’s just how it has always been and is how we roll. That said, as dumb as this may sound, in my mind, when I am locked or coming out of it, I tend to think of myself as “supposed to be” in the bottom role even if it doesn’t actually fit the activity going on. This afternoon was no exception.

So, I think that is why I was a tad surprised when Axel said, “lay back, I have work to do” in an aggressive tone that is not often heard from him.

He was not kidding.

Evidently the stress of the week was being channeled and before I knew it, he had laid me back on the bed, pinned my hands down to my side, and proceeded to swallow my dick to a depth I am not sure I remember him doing. He was addicted. In addition, he was able to get his tongue just right into the PA area (I am wearing a 4g captive ball ring right now) and do a bit of magic that was, well, magical. As I have discussed before, I am not one to ejaculate without touching myself nor am I one to come quickly, but he had me close and, right at that moment when I thought I would get there, he let up, I think unintentionally. This stoppage left me surging just slightly enough that I felt this incredible sensation that was wonderful yet awful where I thought I was about to have a ruined orgasm because it was just too late to stop anything yet I somehow managed to make that happen. He then pulled back a bit, grabbed by preferred left hand and placed it on the base of the ring and then went right back into his opened position. That was all I needed and the force of the ejaculation that followed reminded me of the kick after a shotgun blast because I was just wiped out and absolutely sated. It was this wild feeling of power which is so in contrast to the feeling of having your dick in steel just 45 minutes prior.

Like most things with me, I guess this is just one more way the switchy term describes me and my life. I am a walking contrast in many other things too, but, now that I am older and able to really think about it, I rather like it. Chastity does not the bottom make, I guess.

Now, about Axel’s orgasm…

Sexual Happiness All Around

Happy Tuesday everyone. I got up and took a 5am flight and rushed, rushed, rushed and rushed some more so I could make a 2pm meeting on the other side of the country and, well, I rushed a bit much so now I sit in a coffee shop in the middle of Pennsylvania thinking about sex. Not the Tumblr kind of sex, just plain ole sex and, worse, sex that people I know are having.

Huh?

Well, first, last night Axel and I finally broke our sexual standoff. I say that like there was an issue but this was truly just life and life has been in the way the last few weeks. But, last night, as I set my alarm for 2:30 am, I found myself rather frisky and just happened to be naked and he happened to be naked and found himself frisky and it was all really convenient and, let’s just say that if I had doubted that our recent dry spell had anything to do with attraction to each other, my worries were squelched last night because it was all about the attraction. Me to him. Him to me. Us to each other.

So, today I am in a good mood but more about just life as things at work are getting crazy, which, odd as it may sound, means things are getting better and more normal. I don’t have a single weekday home until mid-July and that’s okay because, well, it’s just okay. But, on the plane today I started thinking about things and one of the things that made me giggle is me realizing that I am kinda happy on weekend mornings, usually, when Thumper and Belle have sex, or, more accurately, mostly when she has sex and he is just the vessel that helps get her there. It’s not the sex itself that makes me happy or turns me on in any way, partly because he’s so vivid with those lady part descriptions, but it’s more the fact that two people I care about are happy at that moment in the world. Does that make any sense? I care about them as a couple, even only knowing one half of it, and want him to make her happy, and, by extension, I hope anything I do with him can help make things a bit better in the whole in some weird way. Sorta the circle of bisexual sex thing – cue Lion King music.

This thought was driven partly, in fact, that after I had been particularly good with my oral skills on Axel last night, he said “Fuck, your boyfriend has taught you well. You are learning some great things”. In full disclosure, I heard him wrong at first and initially thought he was talking about me sucking off Thumper which made me hear the rabbit’s voice in my head saying “Does he not read anything you write? ahem, I. Have. A. Metal. Penis” which made me giggle a bit and then I realized he was meaning that I was learning new things from how Thumper was blowing me and, well, that just made me a bit more hard. I don’t know what it is about the boyfriend word, but when Axel calls Thumper that or when Thumper calls me that I get hard as a rock instantly. As a rock I say – a secret I probably should not put out there because Thumper will now be texting me during my meetings saying that knowing that my pants will react – he’s like that folks. But, again in full disclosure, I am a bit of an ass too and I would so do that to him as well.

That thought escalated to my Twitter friends and how I am almost always really happy to hear about their sexual escapades, well, most of them anyway – acts, not the friends. Well, there is that one couple that, well, never mind. I’ve muted them. It’s really just like I have found a secret little private club of really deep acceptance and, well, it makes my heart happy at the right times (when it doesn’t I just log out).

So, from Amish Country, that’s my sex talk.

On another note, I changed my PA jewelry back to the ring last night and have the Steelheart with me, so I think Axel and I are going to try again, more slowly this time. I also plan on doing a seven month PA review soon too, because, I just want to.

DD

Axel and a Super Snatch

Axel has a female friend, who, to be frank, I just don’t like. At all. However, I have tolerated her for years because she’s one of his closest friends for reasons I have yet to be able to figure out. Ever.

I bring this up because I try very hard not to judge her but, while close, the bell of judgement still goes off in the back of my head every now and then but for reasons that have more to do with her political and racial beliefs more so than anything else. See, this woman, in my opinion, is a cheater in the actual sense of the word. I have tried very hard in the past to not judge anyone for that because we never know what the real story is between the involved parties. In most cases. In this one, I know it all and I fight that bell in my head. A lot.

See, for the last 15 years or so she has carried on an affair with someone her husband knows, but who allegedly has no clue about the fact he is, in fact, a boyfriend. I honestly suspect he knows everything because this guy has bought her a car, taken her on trips, and continually surprises her with gifts that make my boyfriend tokens to Thumper and his to me look like pure and absolute rubbish. She says she stays with the husband because of the children who are now both in college and, get this, doesn’t want to be the one to leave because “it will just look bad” – WTF?

Now, add to this fact that she now has a third man in her life who knows about the husband, doesn’t know about the boyfriend, and who is also taking a considerable amount of time in her life. Oh yeah, the first boyfriend does not know about the second. You still following? Just to make this even more fun, all three of them live within five blocks of each other and the second boyfriend is on a major street that everyone sees so she has to hide her car. Now, my double gold star status precludes me from knowing about the lady sex organs involved intimately, but I can honestly tell you I have never met a penis worth that much trouble. Funny thing too, when you look at this woman, you’d have no idea that she apparently has a super snatch capable of luring men with a song or something (do they do that, Thumper?).

I thought this alone was the prescription for disaster until this year, when Axel and I got three, yes three, different photo holiday cards from her and each of the boyfriends and/or husband. There are even three Facebook accounts where she has blocked each of the others. This is fucking bizarre when you think about it and plays out much like a 1970’s sitcom or a 1980’s Falcon Crest, but, again, in my head, I was like, “to each his own” and tried very hard to just have a “what works for them works for them” attitude about it as best as I could. Also, I know the children now know about the first boyfriend and even used to use the word “uncle” in front of his name, but they have both talked to Axel in the past semi-professionally so I know I can’t ask how they feel about it because he can’t tell me.

I bring all of this up because Thumper posted something yesterday that intrigued me and ties in, but also, a few weeks ago I accidentally saw Axel’s phone when a text popped up while he was driving and I was returning a text for him (as an fyi, we are not ones to ever look at the others phones. Ever.) It was rather innocent but she texted asking something along the lines of “are you sure you are okay with this and, what is Drew getting there that you just can’t provide?” I assumed that he had told her about our little foursome of sorts and that was okay with me because I have told people too, etc. What pissed me off was that my gut reaction was she was judging our openness from a viewpoint that we were missing something and replacing it versus adding to what we already had and I was furious at first which really, really confused Axel. I asked him why she would say such things, why she, of all people, would even make a statement about our open marriage. Furthering the sitcom theme, he said something along the lines of “dufus, read up” in a very mocking, condescending tone and, when I did, I realized she was asking about the takeout I was planning on picking up that night and taking to a party from a place that Axel hates and, to make matters worse, I was buying dessert with it versus asking Axel to make it, which is something he does quite well. So, admittedly, in this case, I did go to the drama side a tad, just because I don’t like her – have I mentioned that?

While that was and is amusing, Axel and I talked about it and I asked if she knew. He said she did and she was fine with it, but that personally she didn’t believe in openness because she thinks that one or the other spouses would be getting hurt. Yes, yes, I know that is a HUGE pot calling the kettle black moment, but it’s also indicative of this woman and her twisted views on so many things, so I never really gave it much thought until yesterday when Thumper posted THIS about his friend Frodo.

I thought Thumper’s post was really good and have to admit I know a bit more about Frodo simply from knowing Thumper and the fact that he appears on my “people I should know list” on both Facebook and LinkedIn at least twice a week (btw, how in the hell do they know everything to the point they’d link me and Frodo? obviously it’s the mutual friend but it also has to be things like same sex relationships, etc because I have never gotten a suggestion that Belle and I be friends- just an aside), so I probably read it with a bit more interest than I would have any other post. What I didn’t know was that Frodo’s open marriage had reached the openness that it had and, even though I don’t know either of them, I had a very warm “good for them” happy thought in my head when I read about it.

What surprised me a bit and led me back to my feeling about the very sexually active woman mentioned above was that he said that Frodo’s view on monogamy was different than his, which would mean it was different than mine. He said that his viewpoint is that:

“His take on what I just wrote is that monogamy is the ideal and that sometimes, it’s an ideal that can’t be lived up to for whatever reason”

When I say that surprised me, I want to clarify that it did so in just a “wow, that’s interesting” way versus anything negative, but it just reinforced my belief that we all process what we do differently and that, I guess, as long as however we are processing it is not causing an internal struggle, to each his own!  So, I think with that said, I need to just find peace that what she’s doing she’s okay with and that is what matters, I guess. I worry about her husband, but also, with so many signs, I think I just now think that he is lazy but also maybe he has something on the side too because, apparently, communication is not the strong point in THIER relationship, which is none of my business.

Back to the Frodo post, I think it’s great that they will be talking with their daughter and I hope that it will all go well. I know that Axel works with several children who are mentally mature and who are aware of their parent’s extra curricular lives and he says that, for them, it’s just another thing about their parents they find strange and weird, but in the socks with sandals way and not in the judgmental way.

Finally, what’s ultimately really funny about this that, in a slight, very different, very odd way, I can compare myself to Frodo’s daughter simply in the fact that, at 45 years old, I have discovered, I think, my parents’ secret sex lives and, even at this stage when I have the hot husband, the hot boyfriend who has the hot wife, AND the open marriage which is killer in its own right, I find myself proud of my Mom and Dad yet equally squeamish in that same socks and sandals way even now. I guess we just never want to think about Mom and Dad naked in a hotel room, no matter how fabulous the lobby is or how much the carpeting doesn’t flatter the pictures. Oh, speaking of pictures, kudos to Frodo’s husband for choosing a good one! Objectification at its best 🙂

As for Axel’s friend, bless her heart, she’s got a lot to balance.

Procrastinating Drew

I’ve been meaning to write this post all week, but I just haven’t gotten to it.

If you follow me on Twitter you know that I have had a week at home in which I was supposed to write a report that I did not want to do. I finally finished it today and it turned out to be 322 pages long (including about 50 pages of graphs and data) which is slightly shorter than I thought it would be, but within my guidelines so I was fine to stop. I have to say I am not sure if I have ever had so many motivation issues as I did with this thing. It was just an awful thing to have to do so I did everything I could do not to do it. That said, I had the time. I had the knowledge. I had the Macbook. But I just could not make myself write it.

In my defense, it was an ominous beast of a project that was hanging over me because I knew exactly what the first 20 pages would be and exactly what the last 20 pages would be, but I could not picture the middle. I spent the week virtually doodling by writing a sentence, then sending a tweet, writing two sentences, then texting Axel, writing three sentences, then texting Thumper, writing four, and then buying something on Amazon. I missed the travel and the routine of not having a routine, as odd as that may sound, but could not get in the groove. I felt guilty if I did anything else like clean, exercise, or other work, so I generally just sat at the computer most of the week – usually with one hand in my pants just because I could – and stared at the screen.

For the record, I finished it this morning about 10am and was almost giddy when I hit send; however, that feeling was immediately followed by the dread of knowing that now it’s being proofed and next week, while traveling, I will likely have to defend my position which will then be followed my one or two late nights in a hotel room editing.  BUT, it’s done, and when you work in a field like I do, you call it billable hours and you get happy about that regardless of what the personal stakes may be.

So, the point of this post is my during my procrastination, I started thinking about procrastination, and how I am almost the picture of it in the dictionary when it comes to something I don’t want to do, don’t know how to do, or am uncomfortable doing because I don’t know what the end result will be. While all of these things applied to my report, I also have been thinking about how I have allowed the same feelings to come into play about chastity.

At the moment, it’s not a factor in my life and I really do want it to be, as does Axel, but it’s just not there yet.

As you all know, muggle lives ebb and flow and mine and Axel’s have been doing both, but they’ve flowed in odd random flows that rage like a river, trickle like a drip, and then even flow backwards, all within the same span of two or three hours. When you layer that with some of the really mugglely issues going on in life at the moment with his work, my parents, and just a general sense of a lack of organization like the house being a mess, things on the kinky side just stopped.

This week he and I had a mid week, very rushed road trip that was ten hours back and forth in the car together. Somehow we avoided talking about the kinky things, specifically our mutual desire for the chastity, until about 20 minutes before we arrived at his nephew’s graduation. Why I have no idea, but there’s that P word slipping back in. We had a really good talk going and then had to shut up immediately because my mother-in-law was suddenly just there and crawled into my truck. We were surely about to hit in on our reason for our penile enforcement avoidance and create the perfect plan, but in came this woman in the most hideous blue dress I have ever seen, and that conversation just stopped, yet again.

There is really no cure for this aside from time and comfort and he and I talked again the next morning on the way home in more general terms than any other way. He has a few questions about it he wants me to ask Thumper, but it’s a weekend and he and I have not talked talked, so those can certainly wait as well.

I want to clarify that while we both recognize we have not been able to make this happen, we also understand that things like this take time and that the relationship dynamic just does not switch on a heartbeat. Looking back, I think I thought I could start the relationship with Thumper, change the power dynamic with Axel, and eat my cake too all at the same time and, in reflection, it was just too much too fast. We chose the most important one to both of us, which was Thumper, and now that it’s sailing along without a whole lot of talk or even thought (all meant in a good way) maybe the next few weeks we will try to make that shift happen again as our lives settle. Of course, I should clarify, his starts settling and mine becomes a vortex of travel on the other side of the globe for most of June, but we have learned to thrive in that, so I have no worries.

But, if we don’t and it takes more time in the end, what’s a few more weeks anyway? (said the man with the ADHD issue)

Mom, meet Thumper – Part Two

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I think Thumper’s tweet pretty much describes my Sunday.

Yesterday was my weekly visit with my parents. As you know from previous entries, I absolutely adore my folks and I look forward to seeing them each week even though it’s usually an hour filled with tech support, bill paying, more tech support, and a Diet Coke that expired about two years ago when my Dad found a really good sale and bought something like 75 cases, because he knew I liked them when I come over.

From the previous posts of mine and of Thumper’s, I think this is the weekend where we might have un-officially just said “fuck you” to all the naysayers out there, although we have not actually yet discussed it. In my head, my visit with him last week from which I am still smiling – just because, his bisexual wall building thing where we realized that when and if it’s up – a factor beyond his control – we can pull up a chair and have a drink and a good time nonetheless, and through our conversations with our respective spouses and the subtle way the two of them are beginning to be more and more a part of this have all combined into just a feeling of non-romantic comfort where it’s nice to just breathe and not give a fuck.

Because of these things, I don’t think I will be approving any more of the bastardy stuff for my comments because I have wasted enough mental energy worrying about them. Now, the stupid ones? No worries folks, THOSE will still get approved because we all need to worry about what color device will look good on a man who has never worn one, but who is tall, or whether I feel that person, the complete stranger to me, should wear his device to the airport. Wait, I think I just went into Thumper’s blog comments in my head here, but you get my point.

So, back to the original topic about my Sunday with the folks. It was a lovely morning before it stormed here all day yesterday so we sat outside on this giant deck they have looking at the birds, talking about the exact same story Mom has told me every week for six weeks about some woman I have never met, and listening to my father complain, I think to the wind, about a rattle his new van has. You know, the same ole Sunday.

As this was all happening, my email buzzed, my twitter chimed and I looked down to see that it was a post from Thumper. Now, as I usually do, I always give ANYTHING from him a quick scan (inside joke folks), since I am a good boyfriend, but this one made me read it more carefully because, if I was correct, he was describing a scene where I was texting him while he was in bed and on top of his wife. Not the usual stuff. I read it and it apparently made me smile or giggle or something so my Mom looked up and said “What was that? You look happy.”

Now, Mom was firing on all cylinders yesterday, something that does not always occur when you deal with really early dementia, so I just said “oh, it’s a blog post from my friend in Minnesota, Thumper” (fyi, I did use his real name) (double fyi – Thumper is not his real name – we joke but I bet some don’t realize). I don’t know if I was feeling brave, cocky, or just in the happy version of the “I don’t give a fuck place”, so I just said, “It’s kinda cute because he is writing about being in bed with his wife while texting his boyfriend” in the most nonchalant way I could.

From the other side of the deck, my Dad said, “did you say boyfriend or wife?” I replied, “I said both” and just smiled like this was the newest craze they had not yet looked up in the Googler. My Mom was quiet for a second and then, looking really connected to everything, just said “Well, good for them. It’s good to know there are some progressive people in the world not ashamed of themselves” (or something like that. I have to admit I lost focus for a bit wondering what on earth was about to come out of her mouth while I also texted both Thumper and Axel alerting them to the breaking news).

From there the regularly scheduled conversation continued, Dad and I went to look for the rattle, and I was summoned in to help them find The Good Wife on their Apple TV (that little remote is just awful for old people). That took forever despite me stopping to print out step by step instructions in 47 point type and then, out of the blue, my Mom said, “Now who are you going to the ballgame with in California next month?” and I said, “Oh, Thumper, the one we were just talking about”.

That was it. She smiled and we didn’t talk about it again. In fact, she went into the kitchen to cut up some sort of melon, which, along with olives I think were created by the devil himself, and offered me some before I winced. I reminded her that I hate them and then she looked at my Dad and said, “Well, ____, there’s one more thing you two have in common.”

W.T.F? Hmmmmm. I don’t want to know what she meant. I hope she was also meaning olives, but I know he likes olives. Hmmmm.

Anyway, we wrapped up, I left and, as a weird tradition, my Mom and Dad always walk me to my car, stand there while I get in, get it started and back out of their drive waving to me which is followed my my Dad always saying “well, you come back” as if I wouldn’t, but, yesterday, just my Mom walked out and as I got in the car she leaned in and said, “just so you know, we could not be happier that you are so happy. We love you, son. Tell Axel to bring food for Stella when he drops her off tomorrow”.

Simple as that.

It says it all

I had a chance to talk to Axel a bit this afternoon and we were joking about some of the comments as I was telling him about mine and Thumper’s blogs today (he doesn’t read either). He said “For God’s sake” and walked into my office and came back with the following.

I think it says it all.

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The Betting Pool of Communicative Disorders?

Last night, I tweeted this:

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It’s been on my mind, kinda sorta, since I tweeted it because it was just another one of those funny moments that happens when you are part of a foursome like we are and I like to share such things.

In contrary to that, I have also been thinking that I needed to shut up about being happy because the blogs are getting a bit pollyanna-ish and that is also not me all the time because, frankly, right now, my job sucks big time (nothing major just one of those mid year revenue is down panic type of things), Axel’s schedule is crazy to the point that he’s exhausted, gaining weight, and generally just too tired to play with me and we have a lot of additional pressure happening in the muggle world with some medical things with both sets of parents. However, I continue to smile because I am happy that life has dealt me the cards it has and those things are trivial in the long run.

Relationships, friendships, and open communication are the things that I thrive on, so fuck those muggle things as I can already see the clouds breaking for them. It’s funny, I love it when those things are working, when Axel smiles at me, when I get called a boyfriend, or when I get a happy comment on one of the posts. Those are what I am quickly finding are the things for focus, not the other bullshit stuff that is just what life is.

That said, Thumper got a comment on his latest post that he shared with me but has not approved for his blog yet. I am assuming that is because he will likely write about it or that it made him mad to a point that he doesn’t want it out there, but it was just funny because, however it was intended, it made it sound like the world has an over/under type thing going on about how many times I can see the rabbit before the relationship we have explodes into glittery gay flames. Maybe it’s just that this is so unusual to people that they can’t comprehend it, or maybe it’s the gay thing (because this lad had a remarkable way of describing me), or perhaps it’s just a protective move over Thumper because, in many cases, he is and has been a blogging God to many readers for so many years.

I don’t know, but I have a new theory.

Axel and I talked about it last night and I actually now think the thing that is the hardest for most people to comprehend is the absolute 100 percent faith, trust, and allowances that our spouses allow us to have because that kind of freedom is very scary and something that many may dream of, but may not be able to handle when they are granted it, if they are granted it in whatever form or format that may take.

I know this is just a theory, but I have one friend who is required to copy his husband on all communications he has with any friend who has the “kinky box” checked beside his or her name. That works for them, but I have told him this so I feel it’s okay to say here, that I am often very uncomfortable having a monitor at times when we communicate because I have never made a friendship with a chaperone because I really like him and sometimes just want his opinion on things, but I don’t ask because I don’t know his husband. I have another friend, who is bisexual who has to hide any and all communication with men, women, or anything outside of the vanilla world by having two cell phones, one that he cannot even charge at home and has to pay for with a friend’s credit card, because she likes to read everything he has on his phone and goes into insanely jealous rages if she has seen his twitter likes or, god forbid, him reading blogs such as this or Thumper. However, to another extreme, I have two friends, or rather friends of friends, who are so open that I am surprised the neighbors don’t wonder if they are running a brothel because they literally have two extra parking spaces reserved at their building for their tricks who often times they pass each other in the house. The funny thing is, even with that level of openness, they have a “don’t ask don’t tell policy” and almost pretend that their naked boys have not been in the house all day when they sit down at dinner at night together. I am not judging, but I find that especially odd because it just proves that even in the absolutely most open of relationships, there seems to still be communicative issues. These are not mine to solve, but I just thought about them and added them to my theory box.

So, to circle back here, I am not judging any of the above friends, but those things just make me think that it’s less about me and Thumper, and more about me and Axel, Thumper and Belle, and even Belle and Axel because it’s apparently much harder to understand being wide open emotionally and having blanket trust than it is where one puts one’s penis or even if one’s penis is allowed to come out and play. In many ways, I almost hope that is the reason for the “betting pool of relationship doom” aimed at he and I because I can understand it much more than I can bigotry and intolerance.

What do you guys think?

Finally, if you are in the betting pool, spoiler alert, next month Thumper and I go away for a weekend – ba da bum (read the following with the soap opera voice in your head)

Will Belle survive the loneliness  Will Axel have sex with strangers in retaliation? Will Thumper and Drew do naked things?  Will Twitter be able to handle us in a new place? Will Thumper be able to wear chastity in another city? Will his chastity device color matter?

These, and many other questions, will be answered in the days that follow.

Da da da dum.

 

“Gay Boyfriend Beware” – the bisexual boyfriend’s warning label

I have a bisexual boyfriend. He came with a warning label of sorts issued by his wife, his blog, and him.

In short, it said:

“Bisexual boyfriends may often occasionally require special handling due to wiring issues that can sometimes cause them to think about lady sex organs at times when you require their full attention. They can’t help it, they say. They were born that way, they say. They like snatch, they say. They are worth it, we all say.

When wiring issues occur, bisexual boyfriends can be reset with time, patience, ice cream, or by firmly pressing their reset button located between their thighs. For severe bisexual attention disorders lasting over 12 hours, seek immediate assistance from Tumblr and repeatedly press the button mentioned above more firmly.”

“Gay Boyfriend Beware”, was printed right there, so none of these things I can complain about and, for the record, nor would I.

Thumper beat me to the punch by writing about our time together this week in THIS blog post yesterday on Denying Thumper. It’s funny because we did not talk about a potential post before he wrote that, but I had already planned something very similar to what he wrote, but from the other point of view. I have to admit, when I first saw Thumper had posted that, I was running through O’Hare airport and I only was able to glance down and catch a few words here and there, but, unfortunately the words I caught were not the ones I should have read. This led to a series of long, in depth text exchanges with the rabbit that resulted in me having a bigger smile on my face than I did when I had left him the day before. He’s going to write about that conversation so I will table that for now (and if he doesn’t I will) but I want to talk about my view of this week and why, even prior to his writing, I was actually thinking it was one of our best visits to date.

To start off, Thumper was not horny for what I had to offer this time. He wrote about his bisexual mood blocking wall erecting itself a few days prior to my visit and that he had vaguely hinted to me about that happening. Funny, this erection is something I recognize now, maybe even as soon as he does, so I knew I would be needing to scale or surrender to it when I arrived in his city. Perhaps it’s because it’s the only erection I see him with or just time, but this was one was different in a very good way. See, for the first time in our relationship, this bi-blockade was not something that worried me, evening the slightest, because I knew that we would figure it out as we went along. In fact, in a surprise move, Thumper got some Belle action 12 hours before my arrival which, I assumed, would be like fresh concrete grout into the wall, but even that didn’t worry me because I think he and I have finally reached that place where “we are” and, by that, I mean “we are what we are” and it’s a fascinating combination of affection and attraction tightly wrapped in what is becoming a deep friendship that does not have any romantic intentions whatsoever. I think I speak for him when I say that we each take great pride in this fact and weeks like we just closed only serve to enhance that.

What my original post was going to be about was the friendship angle because, as much as I like, well, fucking love the fucking with him, I have found someone that, when he sees me naked, literally and figuratively sees me naked because he knows all the hiding places I have for my kinks in addition to my professional and personal lives too. This visit sex was not the focus, however, truth be told, Thumper being Thumper and me being me, all it took was a wink, a nudge and a tickle and he was naked and the bisexual bunny tongue was activated, but that’s another story for another time. This time we just enjoyed the evolution of our friendship and went running (twice – I still hurt, I hate to run but really really have to body wise) (and, random fact, Thumper does not smell when he sweats – that’s just freaky), watched a ballgame and ate some really good food, although I displeased him by my dinner order because he had significantly changed how I viewed one of my favorite words at that point.

Finally, as long as we are on the friendship angle, I want to give a direct shout out to my twitter crew which consists of about 6-8 people or couples that I interact with most there. I have met two of the group and hope to meet more in real life as I work around the world, but you guys really rock and, although it’s virtual in most ways, I just want to tell you I appreciate the friendship, encouragement, and just the ability to step away from whatever in life is happening at that moment and laugh, tease, and share our mutual kinks, likes, and dislikes. With a few of you, Thumper, Tom, Ferns, etc, I still feel like the odd kid who has gotten to sit at the cool kid’s lunch table because I have read you for so long or invested time with you in other ways, and it’s just fun and nice to know that you are out there, wherever you are, pulling for me.

So, I am home now and it’s a rainy Saturday but my list is long, so, as Thumper would say, I am 900+ words in and have no way to end this, so, happy Saturday, kinky kids.

A sticky sticker

Did I mention I bought a new car?

Thumper has given me shit about it since I got it, but I love German cars, BMW’s specifically, but in this case I do fear, just a tad, that the M stands for midlife crisis more so than the intended performance aspect. But I don’t care because I love it and the air-conditioned seats keep my ass cool, so all is good.

Anyway. While this sounds silly and trivial, I want to put one sticker on the back window just to make it mine. I am not one for more than one sticker and NEVER on the paint, but I drive so many rental cars that I like seeing something on my actual one I pay the money for that identifies it as mine.

So, earlier this afternoon before I headed to the airport where I now sit, I sent Thumper a pic of the ass of my car asking his perspective on placement and product. I am sure even the most dimwitted among us have picked up on the fact that Thumper “has an eye” and placement, lighting, and symmetry is something he looks for when he looks at most things in the world. For example, I could probably whip him with a belt for an hour and it would not bother him nearly as much as it would if I didn’t buckle each wrist cuff in the same direction (the sadist in me has taken note, trust me).

He came back with a place and a size and sent me shopping and said something like, “you know, the equal rights sticker would look good there. It’s what I have on my ____”. I immediately came back and said, “no, can’t do it, can’t, can’t can’t” before even thinking about it. And, it was at that moment I realized that a bit of 25 year old homophobic Drew still existed, which scared me a bit. He came back with “that’s stupid” or something equally right, but I wasn’t proud of myself at that moment and, I suspect, neither was he if he even thought about it.

Now, none of this makes sense unless you know that in my 20’s, that was the height of the rainbow flag on back window rage and most of the people one would see with that on their car, at least where I live, were either really flaming men or really butch women. I used to think that the world has no business knowing what went on in my bedroom based on my bumper and stood firm on that. In fact, I once broke up with a guy because he had a huge sticker on his car and I didn’t want people seeing us in it. I was that shallow. Of course, to be fair, he also had a hideous watch and that was reason alone to dump him. Yes, I could get even more shallow.

Fast forward a few years and the equal rights equal sign sticker from the HRC became popular. I have one from every year as I support the organization, but never had the desire to put one on my car. It was helped because, at the time, neither Axel or I had the type of career where we could be out so I didn’t factor in and we just kept everything political to ourselves.

Now, however many years later, neither of us have a career we have to hide our life from, we are legally married, we actually even have the same new last name AND I blog about our sex lives – so there is nothing we are hiding from, but when Thumper said that, for whatever reason, my mind and I went back into hiding. I have no idea why, but I felt I needed to process it a bit too.

For the record, I think the HRC sticker on cars of straight or even straight-ish men or women just makes me so happy and, in Thumper’s case, turns me on a bit because there is something ultimately sexy about someone who can and will support the causes they believe in, even when it does not directly apply to them in such a direct manner like their own marriages. However, for me, it’s like I think everyone will point at me saying “there’s a homosexual in that car” if I did it on mine – which, I don’t understand why that even matters to me as, we all know from the above and through many many other things, it’s not hard to point a gay stick at me and strike a rainbow.

Nothing is going to be solved here aside from me pointing out my double standard to myself and working on it. I suspect, later in the week Thumper will probably give me another one just to watch my reaction, but, for the record, I am not saying it won’t go on there either.

But, I will think about it.

Fucking leftover stupid fears.