The Return of the Dom Side

So, here we are in the lost hour of the day. Some of you who also might work remotely will understand this term because, for me, it’s that weird hour between appointments in a downtown city where it’s too cold to walk, too far to go find my car, and too early to go to my next appointment. So, like usual, I found a random Hilton and am now sitting in a giant velvet chair in the lobby trying to pretend like I belong here, which is likely what the eight other people scattered around me in suits are doing as well as we all type away at small little keypads.

That said, I doubt, and rather hope after surveying this group a bit more, that none of them are writing about sexual dominance, submission, and things like chastity, plugs, and power – like me.

So this week I am really feeling my inner dominant coming out to play again. He’s been hidden away since the Fall when Thumper and I had “all those posts” about “all those things” because whatever insecurities Thump was having as a sub with me somewhat made me question myself a bit more as a Dom. This equally had me wondering if I should just give up the power things for me and find a nice comfortable sub space at home with Axel, despite the fact that Thumper, Ferns, Kiwi and several others had all laughed at me when I had proposed the idea to them. In the end, I discovered they were right but I didn’t act on things and I didn’t pursue the dom thing either, just allowing myself to believe that it would work out when it worked out.

Funnily, I have been getting glimpses of it here and there when I have found myself referring to a few of my friends as “boy” or being particularly bossy with them  (don’t worry, they are in the know and get it) and I have also found that I have lost my trepidation in talking to Thumper about what we did, how we did it, and what we may do as well, because, while I still enjoyed him immensely during his “reflective” period, I didn’t want to risk crossing a line for his sake and, selfishly for mine as well, because I do value my friendship with him and nothing about the past was worth risking a future.

However, this week the climax came in a three way event that suddenly brought out Dom Drew which pretty much made regular Drew giggle like a girl. The first was the date we discussed in yesterday’s post and the new found confidence it gave me.  The second was the before mentioned conversation with Kiwi which I always enjoy immensely because we flirt with each other within the context of a normal conversation in a way that just pretty much implies that if I were anywhere near him I would be pinning his newly shaped ass to the floor and doing nasty things. The third was a very nice post that Thumper wrote this week about one of his sessions with Obiwan and how he had felt his inner submissive coming out while also describing it in a graphic way that, having been there and having seen it in person, pretty much nailed exactly what it looks, feels, and even tastes like.

This was not the point of his post, nor would it have likely even been a remote possibility of intent, but when I read that, I was, for the first time in a long time, proud of our past and proud of myself for having been able to help him experience those feelings. By saying I am now proud does not mean I was ever ashamed, but what I realized was that regardless of whether or not he and I ever physically go down that path again and/or if we choose to discuss it, we should both be proud of that dynamic we were able to find and savor those few moments when his eyes went to the back of his head while he liked the way I hurt him. We grew on two different, yet parallel paths and there is nothing that should ever stop my pride in that. And, THAT, will make me a better dom or sub down the road with whoever.

Finally, I also think that Axel now being on the other side of the surgery and on the path to healing, despite six more weeks on a walker, has brightened my view while also allowing me to find “me” again, such as this morning when I stood in front of a group of people telling them that they were slackers who were nowhere near as good as they thought they were and that, together, we were going to make them better (by the way, I do say that in a much friendlier tone).

I felt more like me at that moment and that made me happy.

I celebrated this happiness by sending some salacious, flirty dom like texts to several special friends. You know, because I could.

Yesterday’s Drew

It’s Wednesday night at 8:00 and I am writing this in bed, while eating a cookie and all I can here in my head is the Bert and Ernie screaming match about Ernie eating cookies in his bed, which would cause crumbs to get in the sheets, which would get in his pajamas, which would cause him to itch. So, Ernie wisely went and got into Bert’s bed to eat them there and Bert just rolled over and took it, like I am sure he did off camera many times, but that’s another story. Luckily I sleep naked and there is another bed in this room, so fuck that, I am eating.

Anyway, I promise I did not decide to write a post about repressed homosexual muppets but that thought just hit me. What I am writing about is this week, I had a date. Now, don’t get all excited, he was as vanilla as they come but very cute and we had a nice time, but since I apparently was a Victorian woman in one of my past lives and cannot easily open my pants, he left disappointed. This all happened when I arrived at my hotel, I was doing a reconnaissance mission for Thumper which involved flirting with a man on Scruff who was using Thumper’s name, though who, allegedly, had no idea who Thumper was or that there were blogs about him and his perversions. It is a GPS based app and I had left it on and received a message from a cute, mid 40’s daddy type who just happened to be 263 feet away in the office next door from where I was staying. After a few polite chats and a multitude of dick pics sent by him to me, he decided it was time to make his move and announced that he wanted to come over and fuck and I politely declined his offer. Now, I love to be chased, especially by attractive salt and pepper haired men, but there was no way I was going to give in to him, cause my dick just doesn’t work in conjunction with my mind like that, and I made it very clear to him that he should zip up and go home because he was not going to win. He said he understood but then asked if I would at least meet him for a drink, which, for whatever reason, I decided to do.

We met, had a few drinks and had a delicious conversation about life, love, and vodka and somehow the discussion about piercings came up and I volunteered that I had one. Of course he asked to see it and of course I had a picture, so I showed him and he reacted positively but very kind, you know, as it often happens when I flash my dick pic at strangers. He was a bit fascinated by the story of why I got one, did it hurt, etc and I then found myself telling him the story of how all you need is someone to hold your hand and then started telling him about Thumper, the boyfriend, holding mine while I had it done for Axel, the husband. This guy had to have thought that he had stumbled upon a crazy dude with a hole in his dick and brain or something at this point, but in case he didn’t, I then started showing him pictures of the chastity cage and how it attaches to said piercing. He was drinking it in and I was marveling at myself for being so weirdly open and uncaring as to what this stranger thought about my kinks and endeavors. This was not yesterday’s Drew, and I smiled at that.

I had to take an evening conference call so we wound up the drinking date quickly, but he never swaggered or swayed after that story and, if anything, his interest grew, but I again locked my legs just like Mrs Garrett alway told those Facts of Life girls. He was a gracious loser and we parted as friends.

In fact, we actually parted as Facebook friends, which I find kind of cute because it’s just another one of those hidden relationships within the context of a normal friend list. I am very lucky too, because for me, that mixed list of muggle and kinky is growing and I feel very secure in knowing that. He and I parted ways with a nice hug, a peck on the cheek and that was that. We have chatted a bit since then but schedules didn’t allow anything more and, while he truly is a great guy from all appearances, I still have no interest in having sex with him so I assume he has no interest in me, which is dandy.

As for that, the timing was just wrong because I can’t say I want to have a fling with a stranger while my husband is on a walker at home having to rely on my mother to help him put on socks, but, more importantly, I think it boils down to the fact that I didn’t really have an interest in sex for the sake of just sex. At least not Monday night. I know I am very lucky to have an understanding spouse who allows me to indulge in my kinks, but I also know better than to push the boundaries for something meaningless and vanilla too.

Now, days later I am left wondering if that flies in the face of my new attitude of not needing a relationship to have sex, but I don’t think it does because, deep down, that guy did not push that button he needed to push and my punch card only has so much space that I am not willing to waste a slot, if that makes any sense. Of course, tonight I spent about an hour skyping with our old buddy Kiwi who thinks I am crazy for not immediately stripping, even though he pretends to tell me I did the right thing, but that is his inner whore talking, so I have learned to ignore him at times such as these (seriously, Kiwi, thanks for the advice).

But, the best part about that this week is just the experience. It was a fun and unexpected way for me to boost my confidence in my kinky self and to have realized that I have no shame in discussing what I do or don’t do. It’s funny, because it was even fun to talk to Axel and Thumper about it after the fact without any guilty feelings because, despite the lack of action on my part, this is exactly what would have worried yesterday’s Drew and it’s good to see that going away.


Talk Stupid To Me, Boy.

It’s midnight. I’m so sleepy but can’t seem to sleep. It’s been an odd week, which we all knew it would be, but today was my day where I decided I was not going to work, I was not going to go to the gym, and I was not going to make any excuses for just being tired as fuck both mentally and physically. So, aside from driving the carpool to rehab for Axel and an excursion to the big grocery store out in the suburbs, I stayed in and binge watched The Man in the High Castle, a brilliant series for those of you in the US who can legally get Amazon TV.

This post is not about complaining (well, it’s not supposed to be) and it’s not about pity, but just more me writing out my thoughts as to the week as I prepare to go back on the road next week which has me incredibly nervous because Axel is not anywhere near where we expected him to be at this point. But, every day is better and I really hope tonight is the night he won’t scream in his sleep – well, to be fair, he has always talked in his sleep and this really isn’t screaming as much as it’s just a stream of “Fucking fuck fuck fuck God damned fucking leg” over and over again and that just kills me, especially because I can hear it upstairs. You know, before I get up and shut the bedroom door (kidding).

It’s funny too because one would think that since we are together essentially 24 hours a day now, which is far from typical, that the bonding would be intense, but the reality is that it’s bonding but it’s a tad isolating because it’s so one sided at the moment. Plus, it kills me a bit every night when I help him into bed in the downstairs guest room, kiss him on the forehead and then go upstairs to our bed alone (Stella has been glued to him since he got home). I could stay down there with him, but it’s a full size (or maybe queen) bed and we sleep in a king and I am just terrified that I would hurt him just with an accidental roll over or the 2am random targeted hump that I am known to do as well, especially because, well, it’s been weeks since I have had some intimate fun, people. Weeks. (fyi, I find humor in that knowing that a great deal of locked readers just rolled their eyes)(hee-hee).

Speaking of the locking, as many of you know, Axel wanted me to lock the day of his surgery and stay that way until I traveled again. Of course I did it and I actually really enjoyed it, because, to me, it wasn’t about the sexual side of things, but just more that even though at that moment he could have given a fuck as to whether I even had a penis, much less a steel one, I knew that eventually he would be proud of that and that made me tremendously happy. However, about a week in, I had an issue with Axel, the cage, that caused me to take it off because the gap between the ring and the tube is just slightly too large and I started swelling out of that area which then caused several little lesions that are currently quickly healing. Of course, the absolute beauty of having a Steelwerks device (or one of the beauties at least) is that I texted pictures to Chris at SW the next morning and he immediately responded with “wow, I need to fix that, here are my ideas…” (btw, the ideas are incredible and I will share that really soon). There is NOTHING wrong with the device aside from a measurement error, but he is willing to adjust that immediately and that’s why I have always called him the BMW of devices (though I am not sure he has a loaner policy when in for service like my BMW does, hmmmm).

Anyway, that was a technical error that had nothing to do with me, but I felt like such a failure because I could not complete my time. Logical Drew is laughing at me in my own head, but that “I failed at chastity again” voice is nagging me like that fat kid on the Simpson’s. Of course, Axel did not mind at all and hasn’t given me not being locked a second thought, but I think it’s a feeling that some of you who wear devices will get and I assume that will just go away in time. That said, there is a part of me that is a little bit excited that I do have that feeling at the same time. Go figure.

In addition, this is the first time in a long while I have missed the concept of the  “boyfriend on the side” part of things and I have felt a bit like I am going backwards mentally from my whole new “let’s just fuck and not have any of the emotional bullshit” attitude I had adopted though I STILL think is the prevailing way to go. Now, it’s at this point I feel I have to both specify and be BLUNTLY OPEN AND HONEST because these feelings are not that it is Thumper specifically who is missed, because, in the reality, he’s been really good to me this week in checking on things, fielding my randomness at the novelties I am experiencing like grocery shopping and, get this, even reading my posts. In fact, he even sent a text that said “Give Axel a hug for me” at the weird time Axel was holding my phone, and that just made him smile so big that I wanted to fly to Minnesota real quick just to give him a hug for causing that smile. So, again, to be clear commenting people, IT’S NOT ABOUT THE BUNNY. What it is about, I think, is just the need to be both emotionally and physically raw with someone trusted that is nagging at me. I know it is just a combination of horniness with a touch of loneliness, and these things will pass, so I am not even that worried about it, but it’s just funny, yet again, where the brain goes. Of course, the brain also goes to the comical place of this, because if I did happen to have that hot, dreamy, 6’4″, tan, built, beautiful blond man (you know, the male equivalent to Ferns) tied up on all fours at the end of this bed I am on, I would feel so damn guilty about touching him when my husband is downstairs unable to even put his own pants on, that I would likely just read him a book, give him cab fare and directions home, and send him on his way (oh yeah, unlike the Ferns analogy, I like my dreamy built fantasy guys to be a bit stupid so I can just lay back and have them do things to me while I say “talk stupid to me, boy” over and over again).

This is getting long and I think I will publish this because, yet again, writing is therapeutic for me and if you read me often, you know this ain’t a sex blog anymore anyway, so there!

Finally, I also feel I should say goodbye now, just in case the Snowpacolypse that is coming wipes out all of my abilities to communicate with the outside world. My particular area of the South is supposed to get 4-6″ of snow on Friday which, here, simply means that the armageddon might be starting as chaos is already erupting all over the land of retail and schools are already closing in anticipation of this horribleness that is white. Of course, I am a snow lover deep in my soul, so I am going to build a fire (well, press the button), give my husband an extra pill or two, and feel no guilt in being lazy two days in one week!

A picture of Thumper

Some of you may have seen this on the Twitter last week, but as I was staring at the pain chart in Axel’s room the other day, it occurred to me that it was like a giant BDSM gauge on several levels.

Also, since so many people ask me “what does Thumper look like?“, which makes me laugh because there are pictures out there people, do your research, I decided to use my creativity, my talent, and especially my boredom to design a picture from that chart that I thought represented him nicely and one that just made me smile inside because, well, just because.

Whatcha think?

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All is still well in the Land of Drew, but I am god damned exhausted. This caregiving thing has taken any and all thoughts I might have ever had about a life as a slave and thrown them right out the window. Though, to be fair, through the other window I am suddenly finding the idea of having my own slave even more appealing. I guess that’s why they call me Dual. The weird life of a kinky switch. (FYI – Feel free to apply for the slave position at the contact me link above. Please be male, intelligent, over 30, and be ready to undergo a rigorous in person vetting process and testing from a committee comprised of Thumper, Ferns, Kiwi, and Mrs. Fever. If there is a man able to pass that, please note, preference will be given to those with a personal training license, six pack abs, and a passion for baseball; although all are welcome to apply.)

But, look at me, I digressed before I even started. In my mind, I am in one of the kinkier places I have been since all of this life drama started and I have to say I am enjoying it and am even planning a fun, fetish-y weekend in Canada with my Steelwerks friend and another kinky blog reader in the next few weeks which is both making me happy and fueling that internal “must go to the gym” fire that I have been missing.

Overall, I am sure this change in outlook is partly due to the lockup I promised Axel while he was recovering and the fact that he is enjoying it (plus I love this device), but also, just a more positive outlook in general that has come from a multitude of areas. These include my nice day with Thumper last week, a feeling of just general comfort in my own skin which has gotten stronger with every post and every comment this year,  and, most importantly, Axel getting out of surgery and smiling for the first time in months.

Looking back I can see the huge weight his joint rejection was placing on us, but, like a lot of things, it was just hard to see when you are inside of it. Now, to be blunt, nothing changed at all physically yet, I mean, I did not jump on the hospital bed and go to town (though the traction devices they have one them are HOT), but, like Obama in 2008, there is hope in the house again and that is very nice.

As a update on Axel specifically, he is doing okay. As they closed him up they packed the incision area (which, if you are into scars would be really cool – it’s 22.5″ long)(Thumper doesn’t want to see the pic but I am going to ambush him one day with it, you know, cause I care) full of steroids and numbing agents which is why he was so chipper immediately and not in such pain. Fast forward almost 72 hours since we have been home, and he’s having a bad day today, though yesterday was the worst because PT started and they made him do 15 minutes of stair climbing. He’s incredibly swollen in his mid section and his dick has retreated inside of him (literally, damnedest thing really), so he’s just uncomfortable and that makes me really unhappy. But, ever the vigilant nurse, I push the pills, I wear something tight, and I brush my device against him enough to try to keep the mood elevated.

Finally, the Scot’s each texted him the morning of the surgery and they came to the hospital the second night and stayed a few hours. I have forgiven them for the ghosting because we finally heard what the issues were, which we not related to us; however, Axel and I both learned that if they are not emotionally mature enough to deal with bad news and communicate, then they are not what either of us need in an open marriage coupling because, as we know, that takes a far greater emotional strength than they have now demonstrated that they have.



All is well in the land of Drew



(fashion trend alert – the high cinched waist with a swollen hip is look THE look for 2016. Pair this ensemble with grippy socks and you have a versatile outside for anywhere the hot people other.  We are gay. We know.)


Good morning. Lil’ Debby (not kidding)(I giggled all night), the night nurse, just came in flipping on the seizure inducing overhead lights to take “a little bit of blood” and the left without turning off said lights. So, I am up and thought I would take this moment of silence to post the quickest entry ever for me to just say Axel is doing great. He’s walking with a walker (slowly) and we are going home later this morning.

I’ve had some interesting thoughts to blog about this week, but was too interrupted to think and am now just too damned tired to write. So, more soon.

Again, thank you all for the well wishes. My kinky community has impressed me again.

Now, I’m off to find a swiss cake roll – see what I did there (if you are from the South) (Ferns and Kiwi, I will explain the Little Debby thing later).

A quick note of thanks

Just a quick note to say thank you to all the kinky people like me who have reached out and wished us well.

Axel is currently in surgery (has been about 2.5 hour and will likely be another 3 or so) and all is well here as I sit in the little room with my family and a few others just waiting on the black phone on the wall to ring so we can all jump up to see if it’s about our person in surgery.

Anyway, as an update, one of the Scots sent a text this morning saying “good luck” but nothing from the other. Fuck them officially this time. That was about my final straw on that one.

That aside, the kinky community, most of which don’t even know Axel’s real name, have just been phenomenal with their messages of support and thoughts. This morning, Thumper sent a text saying “Give him a hug for me” and that freaking made Axel tear up, which I thought was sweet and just another one of those moments that if you had ever told  me would, or even could, happen at some point in life, I would have laughed.

After that when we had some down time alone before the drugs kicked in, I had a good time showing him the messages and explaining the various kinks that surrounded the names. I think he and I will do that again when he’s lucid because he was embracing it much more than I would have ever happen.

More soon. But thank you again.

Questions from Mom

“The best laid plans of Mice and Men often go awry”

This is a favorite quote of mine as it’s probably one of the most applicable ones I have that applies to my day to day life and, in this instance, specifically around getting laid.

Yesterday, Axel was hurting and was bitchy and was mean and was nervous, but he wanted to get off in a way that was something fierce and decided he wanted it to be special. The original plan was that I was going to lock yesterday and stay that way until almost February when I travel again, but in the morning he took the key and told me to wait until night after he was done with me.

After. He. Was. Done. With. Me.

Those words made my mind go all va-va-voom when I heard them and we set our afternoon up, the last Saturday one before he’s incapacitated, watched a great almost to the end of the season episode of American Horror Story (this season did get better), scheduled an early dinner at this place he loves out in the burbs, and then home, where we were going to do as much as we could do without causing him a great deal of trouble. He even went so far as to skip a pain pill just so he could be ready. All was going great and I even wore a rather sexy hoodie to dinner just to celebrate. We got home and no sooner than we turned the house alarm off did we get the call. The call that would ensure that in the best laid plans, Drew was not going to get laid.

The call was from my parents who had hit something in the road rendering their tire immediately flat and destroying the rim of their brand new car. They were in the middle of nowhere, it was raining, and 34 degrees and, not fully understanding the limits of technology, they wanted to know if I could press an app on my phone to send Roadside Assistance to them, you know, cause it can work like that. Not knowing their car well yet and knowing that it was going to be a disaster if I tried to navigate them to the giant iPad-ish touchscreen to search, I made a call, patched them in and, since they were in the middle of nowhere, I embarked on a journey there so that they would have a ride home and a warm place to sit when their car was either towed or tire changed if that was possible.

This turned into three hours in the back seat while we waited, which is three hours more conversation than I had planned for the evening and, since I did have my clothes on and nothing in or on my penis, it was 1,073 ways of different than my original plan. So, as the time passed on I texted Axel with the “please take your pills, get warm, and I will see you in bed whenever I get there“.

But, the fun part, and you know I am a Momma’s boy through and through, was when out of the blue she said, “Drew, your father and I want to ask you something”, a phrase she uses often and one that, like last night, generally makes my father turn green and slink his old man self into the lowest portion of the seat. I said, “okay, shoot“, hoping to God she wanted to ask me if I had paid her American Express or if I was voting for Hillary, etc. However, the minute she opened her mouth I knew there would be trouble because of the quietness of her voice and my father’s suddenly purple hue. She said, “Well, with Axel being in so much pain and having such  hard time, are you able to ‘meet his needs’ and, also just as important for your sexual health, are you able to meet your own?“.

FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME, FUCK ME” was what was going through my head before she could even stop talking. This was so not what I expected to have to talk about nor was it something that I ever wanted to hear my mother say. At the same time, I had to laugh at the whisper of her voice in that “she has cancer” way that WASPY women do because, I mean, if you are bold enough to ask your son if he is getting some, you might as well use the words, right? So, after what seemed like 30 minutes which was in reality 22 seconds, I responded from that non censored side of my brain with the worst thing I could have ever fathomed myself ever saying to my mother ever, which was something along to lines of the awfulness of “well, it’s been tough and he doesn’t feel good and we have tried, but with the pills and his pain, it’s just not been pleasant“. Now, as if this wasn’t bad enough, I suddenly heard myself saying “and he doesn’t like me to take care of things alone, so we just hope the healing comes fast“. WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL HAD I JUST DONE? By this point, my father was almost curled up under the steering wheel, which he had just discovered was heated, when she replied, almost immediately, with the worst few sentences of the night of “Oh, we know all about what the pills can do to an erection, you just tell Axel that it will get better and, if you two need them, your father has some extra blue pills he could try“. Jesus Fucking Christ, my mother was offering Viagra, from my Dad, while also telling me in her own way that they still have an active sex life. I didn’t have a clue what to do other than to immediately text Axel just that last part. Just the “Mom wants to know if you need Viagra?” because evidently I have not satisfied my sadist side enough as of late. And, at this point, I was sure my Dad was dead and I was kicking myself for not just changing the god damn tire myself, which, for the record and this is specifically aimed at Thumper, I can do.

Then, as if sent from a God who despises awkward conversations, suddenly yellow lights appeared and Roadside Assistance was right behind us. I stayed outside and dealt with the details after I shuttled them into my SUV to stay warm while theirs was jacked up. I also watched the inside of my SUV’s windows fog up with what I am sure was an interesting conversation. God, at least I hope it was conversation.

Nothing went further than that and not another word was said and this morning I stopped by their house to get something for Axel and it was just like everyone in the room was having regular erections with no need to talk about such. But, I am not sure I can do that again.

Finally, the good news is that she is going to sit with me tomorrow for about 10 hours in the waiting room while Axel is being repaired and I think I am going to make a rule that no conversation with me is allowed. I get really weird and darkly quiet when I am in that situation, so I plan to bring an extra battery, type and text like crazy, and just see if I can set her up with another old lady there to chat with until I need her to watch my things while I go pee or hunt for cafeteria food.

Of course, I know how wonderful it is to be my age and still have such two wonderful people in my life, but, this openness must stop.

More soon from the continued tales of Drew’s suddenly uncensored family.

Getting Lucky

Hello, yet again, from another hotel. This one, which is featured in the “Hallways of Drew” Twitter photo series by Thumper, is a giant room with a giant shower, two bathrooms, and newly discovered heated floors which are making me happy on this cold night.

But, even prior to discovering the heat beneath my feet, I was pretty happy as today, Thumper and I had a grown up day full of juvenile humor, food, technology, and a few serious discussions about what we did right, what we did wrong, and what we may or may not do now.

That said, one of the things that fell into one of those categories is the fact that we both agreed that we were too open at times and that we put ourselves on the stage while also plugging in the spotlights for the world to see. That both helped and harmed at the same time and, while my relationship with Thumper, my friend who has seen me naked more than a few times, will still be a feature of this blog and a side show on his (at times), we are not going to go into great detail about anything too private about the Drew and Thumper Show anymore and I hope that those who have come to know us understand this subtle change in the tempo.

Another highlight of today which is a tempo that has not changed is yet another realization for both of us that we married two amazing people who are probably too good for either of us in the grand scale of life.

I blurted this out to him tonight at dinner after having just enough alcohol to have blurred my internal censors, but it’s just such a great fact and something he and I have in common that make us both very lucky men. This thought was sparked in my head because today within about five minutes of each other, Axel texted me and Belle called Thump. The second line in his text to me was “if I am interrupting anything, just get back to me later” which I didn’t really think much about until she called and, through the phone, I heard her ask him the same question. In reality, we were sitting in the floor looking at templates for a new blog I am starting that will detail Axel’s next few weeks for his friends and family (so they won’t call, text or, God forbid, visit) so it couldn’t have been more mundane and an interruption was probably welcomed, but, the fact that they actually asked that just hit me in that good spot and, while I can’t imagine actually saying something back like “yeah, gimme five and oh, look, what’s that, oh, he’s waving hello to you because his mouth is full”, I can just be happy that they’d likely not think twice about it if I did.

More specifically and in addition, in Thump’s case, he wrote yesterday about Belle being GGG. While most of those g’s are out of the realm of my business, I smiled the whole time I read that because I knew how proud he had to have been to have been able to tell the world that the love of his life gave him good, giving and game. In particular, he wrote, “Rarely has she ever made me feel anything but loved and accepted”, and that specific line stood out to me, because that is exactly how I feel about Axel and how he has made me feel over our 18 years together as well.

For these reasons, and many, many more, we are two thankful men who had a good day once again realizing how lucky we got.




Kinsey is not enough

An interesting read by Thumper

Denying Thumper

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about Alfred Kinsey’s scale. You know, the one that supposedly explains the difference between gays and straights by assigning a number between zero and six where zero is totally, 100% straight and six is totally, 100% gay. And I’m thinking, not for the first time, that it’s totally insufficient to describing human sexuality. At least, mysexuality. Probably yours, too.

First off (and forgive me as I’m not a biologist, sexologist, geologist, or really any sort of oligist at all) there’s this concept called normal distribution. The idea in nature that any given set of variables measured over a large population of beings will end up distributed on a scale in a shape resembling a bell. You know, the bell curve. Why do we think that’s not applicable for sexuality? According to popular culture, human sexuality is more the inverse of that. Lots of…

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