Yet again, hello from 30 something thousand feet in the air somewhere over the Canadian border. Quite a different flight tonight because, to my right in seat 1D, sits Thumper who is reading a really thick book and stewing because the headrest on the seat isn’t all bendy and doesn’t cradle his head the way he would like. I was able to, somehow, finagle us upgrades both to and fro, but, alas, there are no bendy headrests so “the whole trip is a disaster”, according to the rabbit.

Actually, the trip has been a really good one and, even as we are winding down and heading back to Minneapolis where he will go home and I will go to an airport hotel to sleep before heading back east tomorrow for work, we are still quietly smiling. Most likely for different reasons, but still, it’s a nice feeling.

We arrived early evening last night after a delay and went straight to find some food and then head to the hotel to watch a ballgame and, well, get naked. We made it through an inning or two before the nakedness happened for both of us (he has his hotel rules, you know) and we began what would become a few hours of play with one attempted bed time in the middle that was ruined by me having one post orgasm erection that would not stop. I felt like I was 23 again and, well, since it was there…. (Now we all know I  don’t really write about the sex stuff with us here but within a few days the story will get out one way or another.)

Sleep never really happened for both of us, though apparently I got more than he did because that flu from the last two weeks left me really stuffy and snoring like a boar at times which I suspect is new to him, and, after “releasing” two times in two hours, I was rather relaxed. However, something about being fucked, looking at Tumblr and having his nipples abused revved him up and he wasn’t really out until about 5am. Of course, not knowing this I woke him at 6 because my erection wanted to say hello again and, well, let’s just say he is tired tonight but still in a non cranky place which I appreciate.

So, I am writing this tonight as a slightly more kinky Drew than I was this morning because I now own latex jocks, briefs, and a fitted hood that is, well, just beautiful. In addition, I have ordered my very own piece of art from Steelwerks Extreme that will be just absolutely fucking amazing. I decided to go with a Tiffany model which is half titanium and half stainless with an extra cock ring and scrotal cuff for those days when I want to shake it up a bit. This device will work in tandom with my locking curved barbell, Chris, the owner and artist in residence at Steelwerks, designed for me earlier in the summer. I went there today with the idea of changing this, changing that, and customizing it to be my own, but, in the end, Thumper gave me some advice that doing so to that would be, in a way, like me adding hood scoops or stripes to my beloved X5m, which immediately told me to stop and just go with what the expert had designed and proven to be a success. Chris has a few muggle things happening in life over the next few weeks, so I have told him to not worry about any deadline and just get it to me when he can, which will likely be around the first of November which is perfect as it allows me and Axel to get our planned groove going in a the interim.

After this, he took us to a friend of us his that designs latex fetish wear to see the process and the inventory and, holy fuck, I may be a rubber man one day. This stuff was brilliant and the smell was simply intoxicating. I surely see a bad hotel carpet picture coming later in the week for these items.

Finally, another note about Steelwerks Extreme because I simply cannot begin to tell you how high quality both the work and the man who makes it are. Chris, who himself is a piece of walking art via ink, has a magic combination of kindness, charm, geekiness, and a magical abilitity to mix a leather collar with a white collar which helps me further blend my worlds together. He allowed us to hold and touch an older device that he uses for show and a personal device he uses for, well, not my business, and it was truly like holding some rare piece of art that you have only seen in a museum. As I have noted, it’s expensive in the way a Mercedes is compared to a Mazda, but after being here today, any thought I had about whether the investment would be worth it was out the window in minutes. While this was happening, the three of us spent the day talking about kinks, dicks, politics, and, more – in this case “more” specifically means their frequent talk about lady parts and how much fun it is to play with “down there”. Gross. But, despite that pussy stuff, we had a great day that is going to help me on multiple levels in the future.

So, here we are again with me on a plane. I’m at 34,000 feet flying north to meet Thumper in the airport, sneak a few glances at his ass, and then fly off to Canada where, by this time tomorrow, I will have had a relative stranger’s hands in my genital region measuring me for a custom piece of titanium (and a bit of surgical steel) that will be used to officially give control of my favorite body part to my husband, as he has requested. In between, I get to spend time with the rabbit who, if my plan works as I am hoping, will likely be tweeting tomorrow aboot (when in Canada) his sore and puffy nipples and why he won’t be liking sitting down much, you know, just a date with Drew. Plus, there’s baseball too.

Anyway, there will be plenty on both of those subjects later, so my thought of the day is that I am sitting here thinking and have decided that Axel and I are going to figure a way out to hang out more with kinky people and just begin enjoying this side of ourselves more. In some ways, this is already happening as through this blog and another mechanism or two, I have started forming some real life friendships that were initially just grounded in a comment or two here or on Twitter. Those comments enabled conversations which have now grown into actual friendships. As a case in point, a few weeks ago, when in New York, I had dinner with a guy who is this senior brainiac by day who turns into a latex slut at night, temperature and play date willing (or at least he thinks about turning into that latex slut each night)(I think we will call him Tex for blogging reasons). We didn’t plan to hit it off, but we did, and conversations with him have become part of my daily life as well as Axel’s (I kinda hope they hit it off in that Dad/boy kinda way because being the good modern husband I am, I want my partner to have a boyfriend too). In addition, I have also really picked up conversations with another friend in DC who is a Master to his boyfriend and we have really enjoyed the information exchange. He is the one that Thumper referenced in the post yesterday as I have hooked them up just because they have a lot of muggle life things in common and, well, again, we all need a few kinky friends who know what’s going on in our brains when walking down certain aisles at the Home Depot. 

On that subject, I did have to laugh because Thumper got a comment about talking to another Dom that sorta, somewhat, maaaaaaaybe implied that he was now not only hurting Belle, but me too. Anyone who reads his blog (he has one you know) knows that is not what he’s about and that we, meaning me and Belle, are not able to be hurt my such mundane actions as talking. So it just made me giggle to think that some guy sitting somewhere is really thinking that Thumpie is that big of a slut. 

Then it kinda made me hard.

All of this was precipitated by the fact that the social friends Axel and I have now have suddenly started getting, well, republican on us and, since they are the married gays now, they think that even looking at another man is cheating and, well, I just can’t stand being around that anymore. We had dinner together last night and I was crawling out of my skin at times because the subject drifted right a time or two making me scream. That said, Axel was just ignoring them and my best friend, who I have mentioned here many times, was counterbalancing them, so it wasn’t all that bad, but just enough that made me think I am far too young to be hanging around with someone that I can’t talk with about my penis, Axel’s paddle, or my boyfriend. It may take awhile, but I think I am going to try to see what I can do.

Aboot to land and grab the bunny, so more soon about our 22 hour Northern adventure. 

Hello from a grand hotel room in an even grander hotel in South Beach/Miami, Florida. I am sitting on my balcony as I write this waiting for my colleague to fly in so we can go to dinner to talk about the presentation he and I are giving tomorrow. It’s a two hour one and I do not even know the subject, so I am going to have to pay attention. However, right now I’d give anything to be in the sky sitting next to Axel (even in coach) because he is on his way home after about a day and three quarters together celebrating his birthday and our anniversary.

People often ask about how he and I “work” with my travel schedule and loneliness and the like and I always tell them that we just make it work because it’s really been all we have ever known for most of our time together. During the first half of our partnership, I didn’t travel, but he spent most week nights and some weekends finishing multiple degrees and hundreds upon hundreds of practice hours while I stayed home after my desk job. When that finished, we had a few years that overlapped, but then I started traveling like I am now and, here we are. So, we make it work and, while leaving is never easy, it’s unfortunately just commonplace.

Except when it’s not, like today.

Today, I was willing to give my American Express to Delta to change his ticket to tomorrow night so we’d have one more night and one more morning tomorrow. Plus, he would have been able to watch me give a presentation tomorrow that would have been kinda hot, because any time I am in front of a crowd I always think about him and that I need to kick ass to both keep my job and get more jobs, but to also know that wherever he is, he’d be proud of me. But, the fantasy lasted as long as the realization that he had clients tomorrow and I really didn’t want to spend half of my house note either. So, I took him to the airport, turned in our personal rental car and picked up and new one under the work credit card (which coincidently is the hottest rental I have ever had – a 370z) and here I sit on the balcony almost in work mode again.

See, when I think about it, there is a price to pay for a great weekend and I am paying in now in self pity which will go away the minute he walks in the door to our house and, in my mind, the world is right again and everyone is on their “place”. When we have an average weekend, the leaving is just our life, but the exceptional weekends require the payment and, as I am always willing to pay that, I am really not complaining.

This weekend we slept. Saturday until 10 and today until 9:30. Both of us have just been exhausted and there is nothing like waking up next to a tan man wrapped in all white sheets with the blue of the ocean behind you. It’s the sexiest thing (and I have a picture of him I will see if I can share). But, after that, we walked, we shopped, we ate, and we talked. Sex? We had plenty of naked time but no sex because I simply still don’t feel that great and cold medicine and my penis are just not great friends. Also, until earlier today, I still could not hear out of my clogged right ear so that was just frustratingly bizarre. It got better quickly, but when it did there was blood, so I worry the pressure resulted in an eardrum tear that I will go see about sometime tomorrow. But, back to the good stuff.

As I said, we talked. In that talking, we mapped out almost every single detail of our sexual fantasies and then logically decided how each of us are going to fulfill those for the other, or, allow the other to go fulfill them for themselves. For him, I am going to be locked up at most times, not to the degree of Thumper or many of the rest of you, but enough to know that it matters and that my orgasms at any other time than with the rabbit are not mine to decide on. He wants to lose a few pounds and I have agreed to do some really perverted things for him when he reaches milestones. He, in turn, is going to do a few things for me or to me too. We will not be Master/slave, or even Daddy/boy, but something along the lines of Husband/husband where I am allowing him to take progressive control of me and some of the life functions I have been stubborn about letting go even when I am not around to do them. I will have a few standing tasks as well and we are going to explore some discipline based areas with that, because I now fully admit I don’t want or like being disciplined (but fucking LOVE to do it) but that is the only way I am going to allow myself some structure since my free flowing work world does not do that for me like many other workplaces would do. In time I will tell you more about them, but for now, that’s just enough to tell you that I left the conversation happier with the idea than I have been in years and WANTING him so fucking bad right now.

Throughout this, we talked about Thumper and his role in our life and we both smiled like mad when doing so. I laughed because last night during our anniversary dinner, we started talking about Thumper and Belle and how much we admire them as both muggle and kinky people and then I laughed to myself, because I think the circle has come around completely because I was introduced to Thumper’s blog right around the time of his anniversary with Belle. I remember that because it was the first of a few surprising negative comments about the insensitivity of talking about your “other” on a “holy” night like an anniversary. That commenter didn’t know what she would start with that, but nearly a year later, it’s was just one of those silly, funny moments that mean nothing to anyone but me.

So, in closing, it was a stellar weekend and I am planning to extend this feeling to the week as Axel and I kick into gear and Thumper and I build up to our trip next weekend.

Today I got called a “faggot”

It was quite unsettling, yet it didn’t really bother me because I really don’t think the person who called me that meant it. But I’m not sure. I texted Thumper and Axel to ask their opinions and both were a bit taken a bit aback by it, but I think my nonchalantness may have tempered the expected response.

Now, hours later sitting in a big blue leather seat flying through some stormy looking clouds, I am pissed off because, that just shouldn’t happen, but it did, and in a professional environment.

Here’s the story. Today I was at an a very well known 200 year old institution north of New York that has seen its share of scandal through the years. I am a regular consultant there and have been there enough times through the years that I have gotten to know some of the  staff who I don’t work with specifically. So, when I got there today I was greeted by a man who I have not seen in years and he asked for my email address after we chatted a bit and caught up on life and baseball (thank you again, Thumper). I handed him a business card since it had been a few years since I had given him one and he started looking at me quizzically.

Now, as you may or may not know, when the first SCOTUS ruling happened in 2013, Axel and I got legally married on our anniversary (which happens to be his birthday) (which happens to be this weekend) (which happens to mark 18 years) ( I happen to be taking him to Miami/South Beach for dinner tomorrow and a Saturday play date) (it happens that mileage and points are my one career luxury).

For about 250 different reasons, the most compelling of which was that my mother thought it was “only appropriate”, Axel and I wanted to have the same last name, you know, like all the popular straight couples do. I had a long name with lots of vowels. He had a short name that was kinda cool yet not too common. We tried half and half. We tried adding a hyphen. We tried creating something new. But, in the end, his name just sounded good with my actual first name, so I changed my legal last name, a process that is awful for anyone, but for a man in the South it is, or hopefully WAS, a hassle that needed court rulings and lots of signatures. Adding to this, I had about 20 plus years of doing what it is that I do, so I had to essentially come out to every client I had, but luckily had the blessing of my bosses that I could tell them to “fuck off” if I had any issue because we didn’t want them as a client (it was a good year and luckily I never had a single issue).

So,back to this morning.

It’s been a few years now and most of my clients and coworkers just know me as the married me with the short name and don’t think twice about it. Hell, even I have reached a point where I can answer to it without giggling a bit, so I just don’t think about it. Then, this morning as I handed him my card, he said, “wait, this is not you. Did you change your name or something?” To which I replied a simple “yes, when I got married a few years ago I decided to change mine”. I don’t go into the dribble of who I married, who I fuck, etc, I just simply leave it at that. So, that was that and then he said, “huh, I didn’t know you were a faggot. Well, good for you and I hope marriage treats you well” and then he went about his day and I went about mine walking away a bit puzzled, maybe hurt, maybe not. I had work to do and went to do it.

So, a bit later I was texting with Thump about this,that and Josh Duggar, when I just casually thought to say, “oh, guess what, I got called…”. He responded with something akin to “what the fuck?” with a “who do I need to come hurt?” tone and I played it off a bit in the way I used to forgive my grandmother for saying “colored”, because during her life that was all she knew.
But this man wasn’t too old, was, based on where he worked, fairly well educated and exposed to many types of people, and as I sit here now I can’t forgive him as easily as I did this afternoon, though I can’t say I hate him either.

It’s funny, I think I had a fucking real life commenter from this blog or Thumper’s right there in front of me because he did the exact same things some of the nasty people here have done by insulting in the first sentence followed by a nice expression in the second one. Since the first time Amy in Alabama lit up my comments with hate almost a year ago, I have always wondered what I would do if I ever had the chance to meet one of those people in real life and, I’ll be damned, I did and didn’t even realize it.

Now, to be fair to me, he did not start out with “I’ve been reading your boyfriend’s posts for years…” like 90 percent of them do. If he had, I would like to think I would have clued in, but I blew my chance, though, it wasn’t a place I would have caused a scene anyway.

But, like many of the comments we have gotten, I am confused by the hate followed by the happy. Do these people do this regularly in life with other things too? Should we try it? I’m currently thinking of all the muggle variations we could give back like:

“you look great, even with the extra weight”,

“wow you have aged, but you do it well”,

“your child is really stupid, but she’s so pretty”, or

“I’ve seen your sinning pictures on the Internet, but boy you ride that dildo quite well”

Actually, I have done this in my life before and I remember it being therapeutic, because a friend of my mother’s saw me once after awhile and said “wow, Drew, you are really bald” and I remember in a split second coming back at her with “wow, Helen, you sure are old” while my mother laughed like she was proud of the smart assed son she raised. It felt great and is still something I think about many, many years later.

All this, but no answers here and I will likely never know whether Mr. Man was being nice to me or judging me. I want to think he had a stroke or just didn’t catch himself in time, like when I catch myself wanting to say “Oriental”. I’m not going to worry about it either because it’s over and I am not sure I would have made the situation any better had I scolded him. I just don’t think he knew what damage a word like that can do and, if he had to use it, I am glad he did on me versus one of the younger people who are still fragile enough to let that get into their head.

So, I am going to forgive him and let it go, however, I do hope someone in his world calls him fat and old this weekend.

Good God it’s finally the weekend and it’s not 107 degrees at home. I want to run outside and play like a 32 year old, but, well, I have inside priorities like those two reports I have told you about that I am STILL procrastinating on. But, it looks to be a good weekend. Axel is home and in a good mood. I (think) Thumper’s back and should be gracing our social media pages soon. And, oh, most importantly, I have a massage in about two hours that will hopefully kick my creative juices in again for the writing assignments.

So, earlier this week I mentioned a new client that Axel has that had been troubling me a great deal. For the record, I need to once again clarify that I never know names, never know specifics, and never ask questions more than I know I am allowed to ask. I don’t want anyone here who has ever been to therapy to now feel that their therapist has told their dirty secrets to his or her spouse because, as spouses, we do know better. But, I do know generalities and usually, because they are the specific cases that cause him some consternation, he mentions a few from time to time which helps him to just talk a bit. But, in any case, I am telling you very general areas with a fact or two changed here or there just in case, though all this is anonymous anyway.

All that to say…

Earlier this week Axel had an eighteen year old kid come in who had been through a lot. This kid is gay but decided when he was sixteen to tell his parents that he was bisexual to “ease the news” which is something we have discussed here before and something that I feel is what leads to the bad reputation the bisexuals often have. But,having said that, it’s also something I fully understand having once had the mind and the penis of a sixteen year old. In this case, instead of his parents, who from what I would assume would be caucasian upper middle class suburbanites accepting him the way he was, his father took him outside and sprayed him with a high pressure power washer in an effort to “spray the gay away” while his mother watched. Apparently, he must have been so misguided that he thought of this as some sort of Biblical cleansing  procedure like they would have done in those days, you know, if they had had a Honda power washer and, well, petrol. In addition, I this went on continually until he was old enough to leave so he would not have “urges”.

This sickened me.

I can only ask Axel if the kid is going to be okay (which he says he will be) because this is one he had to turn over to the authorities who will now do whatever it is they can do. I have not asked this, but I assume since it’s in the past and since the kid is an adult I really doubt much can be done about it if anything, but again, that is just me wondering out loud and feeling for the kid.

This immediately made me think back to this post of Denying Thumper where Thump wrote about his son telling him he was bisexual and the contrast of the reactions between the two families who, from what I gather from Axel, would look very similar to each other if standing side by side. My initial thought was “what a lucky kid  (Thumper’s son) is because look how wonderful his parents were” which was then followed by a horrible dead feeling in my gut about what bastards that kid’s dad and mom are and how their fucking ignorance, lack of appropriate parenting, and, well, abuse of their child is probably going to scar him for life (I feel like if this happened then, there HAD to have been something in the past as well). Now, I am not saying Thumper’s kid is not lucky by any means, but I am just saying that they two experiences are so vastly different that it’s almost hard to comprehend as it’s such an extreme contrast of parenting, accepting, and love.

I will fully admit that this hit me harder BECAUSE the two families look alike. I am not sure, nor do I really care, if that paints me as a bad guy, but if that kid’s family had been dirt poor, uneducated, unskilled, or something of the like, I never could have forgiven them for this at all, but I might at least understand a bit more about it. I do know that men who drive Land Rovers  are just as capable of being intolerant and as bastardy as the next guy, but I guess I just don’t think about it and that needs to stop.

My inner activist has kicked in and I want to do something to protect that kid and kids like that in the future, so I am working on a few volunteers things my vanilla professional side can do for the small picture, but I think that, for the global one, any and all of us who read this blog and any like it where we do discuss sexual freedoms need to make sure we look out for these situations and these families to both help kids like this know that it does indeed get better and to get me the address of the parents so I can pack my power washer in my carry on (I so wish it was like Hermione’s purse) and drop by their house to spray their stupidity away, possibly until they bleed.


FYI – said kid has been accepted into college and has a boyfriend now, so things ARE looking up.