Thump, Belle, T.O.G, and Mom

It’s Sunday afternoon and I am just back from a visit to see the parents. I have not written about them in awhile because things were good, there was no strange interest in my sex life, and Thumper’s name never came up. Things seemed normal.

Until today.

Today was not a good day in the sense that all of the brain waves were not quite connecting which was very apparent and frustrating as fuck as I tried to help them find that perfect TV show they have been wanting to watch, you know, “the Western one“. This vague description was all they had in addition to “you know, the last one has been advertised” and I was just lost. Of course, this led me to try to search Netflix and Hulu for them until she suddenly stopped me and they both, in agreement, said “There. That’s it“.

It was the Good Wife. The fucking Good Wife. A favorite of mine and a great show, but Alicia was not even in the western part of Chicago.

Anyway, she and I decided to walk around her big backyard that has about 30 different flower beds and areas in it so she could show me the blooms this year which, I have to say, are spectacular. Of course, it was hard to do because we would get to a certain tree or bush and she would say “I have no idea what that is but isn’t it just lovely?” and, most of the time, these were plants that had been there my entire life and, in several cases, were ones that she took starters from that are now growing in my yard. I don’t know if the tougher part of this stage of aging is on her or me, because she doesn’t know what she doesn’t know, yet I do.

But, the real fun was when we walked around the corner from my Dad where we were somewhat alone and she said “you know, this morning I woke up thinking about your friend and his wife – how are they doing?” Having very few friends with actual wives, I knew exactly that she was talking about Thumper and I just smiled at her in that “they are fine, why?“. Then, she said, “can I ask you a question about that?”, which absolutely fucking terrified me because, it was an off day brain wise and God only knows what direction that could take. I tried to distract her by commenting about an odd hydrangea and a weird bug, but that did not foil her plans in the slightest and she said “What does she get out of it? I mean, his wife? since he gets to have sex with men?” For a morning that had words had been escaping her, this phrase was spot on and deliberate, almost as if it was practiced.

I answered her by saying that I really did not know the exact answer but that they were really educated people who spent years working out their marriage and it worked for them. Then, for whatever fucking reason I thought this might be important, I said, “Well, rumor has it that she is flirting with the idea of her own boyfriend” to which my Mom just lit up in a flash of feminine pride like I had just told her Gloria Steinham herself had walked through the gate. She then said “Well, good for her. You know, I know you think I am weirdly fixated on this, but I am just glad to know that he did not bully her into letting himself play in the sandbox when she herself couldn’t go to build a castle there too”. I replied with “oh no, she controls everything about him so that would not happen” and she said, “You tell her I said, Go Girl” and I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I could not fathom a situation where I would ever tell Belle that, though maybe Thump will. Of course, I started picture play in the sand and, well, that could get gritty.

By this time we were now sitting at a table hidden under the trees in the back and along comes my Dad who would just diffuse any and all bits of this talk, so, being quick on my feet, I asked him if he would mind checking the tire pressure in each of my tires knowing that it would both thrill him to be able to help me with something and take him forever all at the same time. So, as he went to get “his tools” for whatever reason he thought he had needed them, I asked her why she has been so fixated on Thumper and Belle based off of one or two actual conversations. I told her that I found it really odd and didn’t know if she was asking if I had been the boyfriend or what she was wondering about.

She looked at me and said, “Drew, you know I love your father with every bit of me and he is an amazing man, but he can be a bully sometimes, especially when he was younger, and I see a lot of us in that couple which is why I worried about them, but I had to learn to get what I wanted and I am glad she is too”.

What. The. Fuck. I loved her more at that minute than ever but also suddenly had so many questions.

I asked her if I could ask her questions about that one day and she said “Absolutely, but let’s go somewhere where your Dad won’t walk up on us. And I want some wine when we do.” I was spinning a bit in a weird pride, a weird fascination, and a weird wonder, especially because I have never once seen my mother actually drink wine.

I agreed to arrange that and then she said, “you know, I will have questions for you too because you do travel more than your dad“. I said, “I know, but Mom I am very very happy and so is Axel“. She said, “Of course you are, we didn’t raise you to be unhappy, but I need details“.

My Dad came back about then and it was getting hot so that as all I could get today. You will all be happy to know that my tires all now have equal pressure and that my Dad is wiped out. The thing about this conversation is that, for those of you who have not been following long, it may be a year before the chemical imbalance in her brain is just so that she will be able to talk about these things again, or even remember them, so I savor it and, even if I don’t have the closing to the story, I can imagine enough to know she took care of herself and, I hope, had a fling or two too.

Stay tuned.

The Fairies – now with vision

Apparently my post about the Blind Fairies worried some of you because I got some great comments and some really touching direct messages (and, sadly, not a single one of you liked my joke about how sad it is that they can’t see how pretty they are – <sigh>).

That post was written at a point where I realize now I was just exhausted and, when that happens, I get a bit whiney because I just want to come home to a perfect house, have amazing quality time and fantastic sex with my husband, and then fall into a dream filled relaxation where I can enjoy spending time thinking about the things that get me hard like grasping the bunny in my large hands with an intense pressure – only reserved for that moment when he needs to feel oh so helpless – followed by carefully planned strikes and thrusts that get me that much deeper into him through his ass and brain. And naked firemen. They get me hard too.

Something not intended to be in this blog at all is last week I lost a good friend to an accident that killed him instantly. We said goodbye yesterday and things are leveling off but that hit me hard in a way that made me, obviously sad for the loss of his smile and support, but just more in the way that everything can change in actual seconds and that put me in a thinking place where I questioned the travel, questioned the sex with both parties, questioned my happiness, my organization, blah, blah, blah, blah.

But, in doing so, I realized that I love my life, love the weird sexual parts of me, love the fact I can see and touch two people naked, and love the fact I am still here today to learn something new about myself and you people. I don’t love my lack of motivation at times, but that can be adjusted.

Finally, I should warn you that if anyone says they are “sorry for my loss” I may have to block you. I wasn’t close enough to him to feel that is warranted and there are far more people, like his children, who need those words more than me. It’s funny in the age of FB, friends have been putting memorial messages on his page and their friends who I suspect had never even heard of the guy are posting to their friend how sorry they are for them on a page that his family sees. It was his moment, not theirs, after all.

So, all of this to say that the fairies I arrived home to, in actuality, have vision and are just fine. Not sure if I just called Axel a fairy with that statement, but, well, if the wings fit.

 

Blind Fairies

Good morning from a chair hidden behind a sushi bar at O’Hare International airport. It’s actually closed and I didn’t know I was trespassing, but the nice manager man who tried to kick me out decided I was just fine and could stay when I flashed my metal dick and said “really?”

FullSizeRender

Hah, wouldn’t that be fun? However, in no world would that ever be me, so I really just acted innocent, smiled a bit and he said that I could stay “as long as I wanted“. Get that, people, ss long as I wanted. What a day.

So, if you have not gathered by my whining, my last few weeks have been pure hell from a work point of view. It’s not been with bad people or weird bosses or anything, just crazy busy which is a fact that I can’t decide whether is good or bad in that billable hour way since I am about 220 percent ahead of where I am supposed to be. Yes, it buys me time should I want to slow down later in the year. Yes, it helps secure a bonus next year, but I am beginning to question the price I am paying for this in health – I’m getting fat again and can’t workout regularly, in friendships – I am never home to see anyone and have stopped being invited to things, to my marriage – I think this is already understood, and, well, to my sexual well being – because the starts, stops, and sideways moves are getting old. But, I am tired and this is likely a product of that so I am not making any decisions for awhile.

I have one more city today, a three hour afternoon meeting, and two flights home tonight (the second of which is a 35 minute Atlanta layover for the last flight of the day and it makes me nervous) and I am giddy that my entire weekend, five days actually, are going to be devoted to cleaning, organizing, spending time with Axel and maybe, just maybe, adding some of the kink back in. Should I clean naked and collared? Just walk around in only the cage? or maybe get him to just lock me in a sleepsack after an Ambien so I can finally just sleep. Hah. Now the mind is racing but, that ain’t a bad thing. Plus, I see Thump in a week and anytime I get to embrace my sub side, the Dom side suddenly rages.

So, I write this all about a question to those of you who actively practice your kinks on a regular, consistent basis, especially to those of you who have consistent rules and protocols.

My question is, do these things make your day better? do you feel more organized? do you feel relaxed knowing that some of the decisions of your day are made for you? do these questions make any sense out of context?

(I’m being kicked out of the sushi bar now – hold please)(he is no longer a nice manager man)

Okay, I am back. I am flying an airline I don’t have club access to and, as pretentious as this sounds (just for you M.) I really miss it just simply for a quiet place for me to be able to sit down and write smut, or work, yeah, “work”.

Back to the above. I ask those questions because, right now, I am at what I feel is the highest level of un-organization I have ever been at in life. At home, Axel has been as crazy as me work wise and our laundry is clean, but evidently sorted by blind fairies (seriously, how sad would that be that they’d never get to see how pretty they were?? Awww) after we finish folding it because I am now constantly getting places with one of his shirts, without my underwear, or, socks that don’t match – we are two educated people but, for whatever reason, we have lost the ability to know that one black sock does not mean all black socks match it. As a point, right now I am wearing his shoes because he apparently left them on my side of the closet and, in a mad rush to pack, I grabbed them instead of mine. Sadly, they are my least favorite pair of his he has, but luckily he’s a 12.5 and I am a 13, so we are at least close enough. This is not how I operate and this, plus about 200 other stupid, stupid mistakes, are killing me.

On top of that home level of unorganized, professionally, my ability to focus has dwindled to a point that I write one thing, go get a snack, write another paragraph, go get another snack, stare at what I wrote, go mow the yard – halfway. I know a lot of this is the shear volume of what I have had going on, but the lack of focus worries me.

Sexually and personally, my drive is up and down and left and right depending on the hour. That alone doesn’t bother me, but when it’s like that it’s so easy to forget the kink we gave established that I worry it will go away forever. Add to this my uneven workouts and recently horrid diet, and, well, that has to change.

So, back to my question. If I asked Axel to set some very specific guidelines does anyone think it would help for the basics? I feel like it would both please me and royally piss me off, so I don’t know, to be honest, and do not want to start something again that is my fault for not finishing.

Hmmm. I guess I have five days to work on that.

 

Porsche

So on this journey of chastity and kink, I have had the best time meeting and talking with people. While this is no surprise because I have written about this many times, there are a few people that, together, we have clicked to the point that, I suspect, we will have some form of friendship for a long time in the future. I find this fascinating and, ultimately, incredibly cool because some of these people are not people that my day to day life, prior to the blog, would have ever even run across. It’s great to say I now have friendships based on a mutual love of metal around a penis or that they really connected with the fact that Thumper loves the way I hurt him.

Two cases of this connection I find to be the best are my friendship with Chris, who made my beautiful chastity device and my friend, who we will call Porsche, in honor of his love of fast Germans.

With Chris, he is a Clark Kent type fellow who, by day, is covered in tattoos and metal dust while cursing like a sailor and, by night, can put on a white shirt and attend a PTA meeting while looking like he just stepped out of J Crew speaking the Queen’s English. In no other circumstances of life would we have met – especially since he is, well, Canadian – but I am rapidly thinking of him as a brother and he’s reached the spot where my kidney would be his if he needed it and that never would have happened without my having embraced my kink a wee bit more. I love this.

Now, as for Porsche, he is just absolutely fascinating to me in multiple ways. First, he is absolutely and completely, <cue gasp> 100% straight. He’s married to a beautiful woman who, from what I gather, is as kinky as me and Thumper combined (well, not really) and delights in telling me about their exploits, which I just adore because it’s such a novelty to hear about men and women, you know. Anyway, he is locked in a BEAUTIFUL 100% titanium creature cage from Steelwerks when he travels (which is a schedule that rivals mine) and he is locked when he leaves the house and not unlocked until he gets home (he does have one secured key with him just in case). He is my TSA titanium traveling hero because he wears the cage through security without having ever recorded any issues – a fact that has made me decide to upgrade my device soon – and when he comes home and the cage comes off, he switches to the absolute dominant character in the house and that stays that way until its time to leave again when the cage comes out. The beauty of him is that he is a very fit, late 40’s business guy with kids, a giant house, and the SUV, but, he has the sex drive of a teenager with the wallet of a CEO and the toys, games, and adventures they get into are absolutely amazing. What makes me laugh about our friendship is that it’s an off an on type of thing where we will text each other pictures, stories, and other life things and it’s always a really nice diversion from what I am doing. This week, as he was boarding an airplane and as I was checking into a swanky hotel, our discussion was going back and forth about butt plugs, pegging, and what armpit hair feels like when sleeping with a man and I laughed because never, ever in my life did I think I would ever have such a connection with a <cue gasp> straight man. It’s fun, funny, and neat all at once because we connected through metal on a penis, which I bet most people can’t say.

So, just a brief snippet of the fanciness that is my day to day conversations. Work is still kicking my ass and 17 emails have arrived since I sat down to type this, but that’s why I get paid, I guess.

Question to all, have your kinks created strong friendships with anyone you have not seen naked?

Muggle Life

Remember me?

It’s been forever since I posted as muggle life has consumed me lately with work, work, and more work. I know what I do professionally is pretty much a mystery to everyone, including me, but there are times when the freedom/luxury/weirdness of being able to be all over the world combines with the day to day things that are expected to be done and, when this happens, it’s all encompassing in a way that I can’t describe. For me, last week, that way translated into twelve reports that were due all at once (though four are still in process) which meant, for me, I had what turned out to be 573 pages that had to be written.

I love writing except for when I have to write. At those times I feel this pit inside my stomach that almost makes every word hurt. This, in my head, is compounded because I have to write nice words and can’t say things like fuck, ass, chastity, or dick. Do you know how hard clean writing is?

Anyway, enough about that other than to apologize for being gone. I’m currently sitting in a restaurant in a swanky hotel having a bite so I decided to get back into my kinky world, which, I find I enjoy more and more when I let myself enjoy it. That, though, is the trick and something that I still have a hard time mixing into my day to day life because, well, work is where my alpha side really shines.

With that, I have promised myself that I am going to explore more, even if it’s just through writing about what clicks my dick, and take more time for myself, and for Axel, in the process. Speaking of that, I just booked us for two weeks on a Hawaiian island this summer with the intention of doing nothing but eating. We were scheduled to do a Costa Rican adventure but, as much as it finally killed him to admit it, his recovery has not been fast enough this time to support walking on the unpaved, so we are going with touristy and level and I am more than fine with that. With recovery mentioned, he just had a five month check up (can you believe it’s been that long) and all is good, but he’s stalled at about 80% recovery which they say is not abnormal at all and that it could be years before he gets into the 90’s, which is likely only as far as he can go given the extent of the injury to the major muscles in his hip and thigh. I can certainly live with that, though he’s still a bit whiney about not being at 100.

On the kinky friend front, during the middle of the crazy week last week, I was able to “get away”, by that I mean writing in airplanes and lounges, to go see Chris at Steelwerks for a day to just hang out among the metal. This was purely a social call and we had a great time in what turned out to be the only warm day in Montreal in 2016 so that was nice. Of course, I did pick out the perfect new creature device I want so I can travel in it, but that will have to wait a bit, so a man can dream.

As for Thumper, I can honestly say I think he and I are at one of the best places we have ever been because there is no pressure to be anything other than good to each other and when things get a bit flirty, they do and when they don’t, it’s swell too. So, you know, good.

Finally, the one thing I have carried through on is the gym, though I do it so randomly and in such odd ways it’s embarrassing to report it (i.e.: pull ups in airports) but, if I can just get used to eating more clean, I could show some results, but those damn biscoff cookies do get me every time.

Something debaucherous soon!

This, that and the Axel

It’s an interesting place in life when you are scrolling through Scruff and you run across your husband’s profile. The first reaction most would have, I assume, would be a shock or surprise, but I laughed out loud at myself this morning because, when I did run across it, my first reaction was “why the fuck did he choose that picture?” Seriously, Axel is an attractive man and has lots to offer, but he chose a pic that doesn’t highlight any of his best features and I find that concerning. So, when we talked this morning I gently broached the subject with skill and finesse that went something like “why the fuck did you choose that picture?” which, apparently, he didn’t like me saying. Apparently, I am not supposed to interfere with my husband pimping himself out, so I guess that is a new rule I need to remember. I won’t say another word, but I will watch and either he will immediately replace it because I made him self conscious, or, and this is the more likely scenario, he will be 75 years old in 30 years and still using that picture because he will continue to be making a point to me. So, I will check back in 30 years from now and let you know.

Anyway, it occurred to me (after several emailed questions) that I have not updated on Axel in awhile and that, I guess, is because he is doing just fine post surgery. It’s been four months, if you can believe it, and he has been released from PT and is now walking on his own completely which just a slight wobble because the new leg is slightly longer than the other one, which is something that can be corrected with a shoe insert and is very minimal. That said, the hip is doing okay but he still has substantial pain in that joint and in his thigh where the essentially broke the bone to reset it with the steel rods. I feel for him constantly because he’s stuck at about 83 percent on his way back to 100 and his surgeons tell him that will likely be one to two years in the future, so he has to fight that mentally because it can be a tough pill to swallow at times.

That said, it IS getting better day by day and we both know that in time it will be fine. On the sex side with all the fun dom and sub aspects, it ebbs and flows like normal, but we just allow ourselves and out when pain and/or my travel kick in. For instance, last weekend I had been home for five days and had been locked the whole time which was going to be celebrated with a giant flurry of fun sex, possibly in the back yard, which would have set the tone for summer and we got close, but about an hour before he stepped off step the wrong way and the grimace he gave told me that it was not going to be the day of fun we had hoped for, but we adjusted. He took a pill or three, I got naked, and we watched Deadpool on the couch which was just a fine day too.

So, all this to say is that there is just not much to say, but the wonderfulness of that is that is nothing bad to say either.