And there was this woman named Ferns

It all started about a year ago with the woman named after a plant.

She is so hot,” Thumper said.

I think that woman could destroy me in that oh so good way,” Thumper also said.

I bet you’d so wish you were bisexual if you ever got to meet her,” he teased.

Since this was during a conversation he and I were having regarding my new blog and Twitter presence, it had all started with a suggestion from him about who I should follow to learn more about D/s, but also women in general, etc.

I followed her. She followed me. I commented a time or two on her posts. She commented a time or twenty on mine.

We started chatting and within days, I had bought her book about female domination and had created an entire workbook full of questions, diagrams, and charts to discuss with Thumper as part of his continuing lecture series with me entitled “Thumper’s Guide to Lady Parts(fyi, I have graduated Part I and am currently negotiating pricing with him for the second session).

Jump a few months and, since I work in Australia from time to time, I found myself sitting on her balcony one hot summer afternoon in March drinking champagne and falling in love with her in that non sexual way only a gay man can get away with doing. We spent that day together getting to know each other as the people behind the pseudonyms and that day still goes down as one of my favorites since I joined this kinky little community of perverted writers.

Anyway, in the last eight months or so since that day she and I have remained close via the interwebs and she has been a great compass for me when I say too much, too little, or get whiney in the blog about life, love, and fuck buddies.

Since that day I have been back to Sydney four times and could never find a block of time big enough to fly to the town with the weird name she lives in (fyi, that describes almost 98 percent of all Australian towns) but this time the timing worked and two days ago I was back in the arms, literally, of my Australian girlfriend.

This visit was easier because we had that awkward internet meeting out of the way. She picked me up at the airport and we went to this beautiful place on the beach to have lunch and then, almost immediately, all of the ears of our twitter friends should have began burning because we started talking about each and every one of you (in the most sweet and wonderful ways possible, of course, well, except regarding you, Kiwi).

I had squid.

She had pasta.

We had champagne waiting.

So, following that, I soon found myself back on her balcony with a glass of bubbles and that is when the internet sensation that is Ferns, really, once again, cemented herself in my mind as my Australian girlfriend because of about 12,000 little things.

First and foremost, she asked about all of the recent “drama” in the world of Drew and wanted to know the inside scoop and if she could be any help to me. Since I tend to talk about everything, there really wasn’t any inside scoop to be told, so after she confirmed that I am indeed the Rachel, we moved on after she gave me a new perspective on some things from a very very educated view on the subject and helped me realign some of my thinking which is something for which, three days later, I am still very appreciative.

We talked family. We drank bubbles.

We talked Milo. We drank bubbles.

We talked Kiwi. We drank bubbles.

We talked dating. We drank lots more bubbles.

And then we looked at boys.

I downloaded a few of the gay apps that show who is around you and we ranked the guys on age and bodies, you know, like any two forty something schoolgirls would do. She started talking about men in general and how that most straight men above fifty seem to have “given up” and let their bodies go and this was incredibly apparent in these apps as even many of the sixty-somethings had abs of steel (although, to be fair, this is Australia where I am convinced that it’s a secret law that any parent who has any child that might show potential to be a hot adult enroll them in cross-fit at age 4 for life because they people in general are so freaking hot here.)

Throughout this we discussed the relationship between Axel and myself and how that is evolving as well as the Axel itself and she had a good time examining it and all of its components envisioning how it would look on one of her submissive men one day.

She gave me some really good advice and over the next few weeks I will be rolling that out and will do my best to credit her when possible.

And, oh, did I mention there was kissing?

Finally, there is no snappy ending to this post aside from the cab driver, a dirty looking man in his 50’s from New Zealand, who was really impressed to see me “making out with a woman like that” when I left her to get to the airport. As we continued the drive he repeatedly made nasty comments about women and people of other cultures while asking all sorts of weird questions about me. When we arrived, I paid him and as I was getting out he said “Wait, XXXX (my name he had gotten from the card)” and then began rummaging through his console before starting to write something on a sheet of paper. He handed it to me and said “My name is Anthony and I would really like to stay in touch with you, if you know what I mean” and then proceeded to hand me what he was writing which was his email address and number.

I went from hot to not in about 20 miles. Ewww.


  1. “…so after she confirmed that I am indeed the Rachel…”

    Complete bullshit, of course. Rachel called the break. I am Rachel. QED.

    And after I had already agreed not to label either of us. Such a shame.


  2. You are such a complete sweetheart: thank you so much for making the trip to come and see me and for the lunch and company.

    Also for the kisses you suffered through *smile*.

    *huge heart eyes*


    Liked by 1 person

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