Yesterday I went for a run. Well, a run/walk kind of trail thing because I have learned I am just not a huge fan of running on pavement and I don’t have the stamina to run more than a mile or so on a trail without walking. Anyway, at the end of my run Thumper called, I stopped, found a nice spot by the river and we sat and chatted for awhile. It was a conversation of random subjects, however, in the twelve hours that have followed, two things we discussed happened to appear, one rather randomly.

The first is a muggle-ish life detail not for this blog that did just appear out of the blue, but it was a big deal in many ways, makes me proud and makes me want to say “congrats, a well deserved honor indeed”.

The second, was that he and I were talking about a post he was about to write (that he did post last night here) regarding addictions to pornography, pleasuring one’s self, chastity, female sex organs and other very similar topics in which he is an expert and, without really anything of it, he pretty much predicted how my night would go

It’s been no secret that Axel and I have been distant since that horrible weekend at the beginning of April. We have been pleasant, had a good time together in life, but there has been no sexual energy and no, zero D/s activity. As you also know, the following week coincided with the arrival of the Steelheart which was supposed to mark many changes in our lives, but because of all the rubble created by the stone in the kitchen and the steel in the street that weekend combined with the actions of one of his client’s that shook him much harder than I think either of us expected the following week, any kinkiness, or frankly, horniness, we had went out the window and was very hard to re-energize. I wore the Steelheart for a few days, but he didn’t seem to notice when it was on or off, so I took it off, put it in a drawer where it still sits waiting. I am different in the chastity than Thumper in that, for me, it’s not about denial but more about giving Axel the control over my penis and if he didn’t want it this month, I simply wasn’t going to wear it.

So, last night I could not sleep. Not at all. Some of it was these things were on my mind and a rather strong sense of disappointment in both myself and Axel for allowing our progress to go backwards – yet again. Some was a work project that is looming over me like one of those dark, scary clouds you see in Disney movies. And some was just simply me being horny thanks to some of Thumper’s actions of the day and a bit was the god damned dishwasher that was happily beeping to say it had finished – I have got to fix that setting somehow. All these things combined did not equate rest, so I got up about 2am and, surprise, surprise, found myself looking at copious amounts of porn while also scanning the This Old House website (there has to be a special name for that combined perversion). Since Axel had not said anything to me recently about pleasuring myself or not pleasuring myself, I decided “fuck it” and soon found myself naked in the big dark room downstairs that was lit only in the blue hue of the macbook. It had been weeks since I had done that so I took my time, enjoyed the moment and was soon the master of my domain again.

Following that climax, I was energized and still couldn’t sleep, so I stayed downstairs until about 4:45 before going back up and crawling into bed with Axel. Karma being the bitch she is, I woke him up in doing so and, for the first time in three weeks, the man crawled on top of me ready to roll. Fuckin’ hell. In that moment I thought about pretending I was asleep, saying I had a headache, waking up Stella who would HAVE to go out, but no, me being me, I fessed’ up which led to a really interesting naked conversation at 5am that culminated with us taking a shower together at 6am followed by him making me bacon at 6:15 – the good bacon too. Applewood.

No, we did not have sex, but we laid it all out on the bed about how we have been feeling. He was still angry, confused, and a bit hurt that I had called him weak that weekend and didn’t know how to process it. He said he had indeed been thinking about the chastity, the rules, and what we had planned, but in his mind he put up a wall almost blocking me from accessing that from him out of punishment. It’s very twisted when you realize that this method is the “I am punishing you by giving you full access to your penis” method and I doubt it’s going to one day make it into Thumper’s book on chastity which we all know he is destined to write some day. I explained to him that, from a sub point of view, it really doesn’t work that way and that I had tried to continue with what we had set expectation wise, but when he became disinterested, so did I. I really wanted to pin every bit of this staleness on him because it’s just easier, but, I also realized I have been purposely “chilly” as well and have not projected the “I’m gonna fuck you like a whore” vibe I generally like to project at home and, coincidently, while giving speeches at work.

It was 5am on a workday so we didn’t get much of anything resolved, but maybe we don’t have to dig deep to fix things and perhaps we will just start again as I expect an email sometime today telling me to lock up and where to put my key. It’s very much a blessing when you realize that you have the ability to communicate to fix issues so we don’t take that lightly. In fact, I have a post planned about that very topic soon because I have a few new friends who I feel are struggling in that arena.

Finally, no, it’s not the perfect fix, but it feels nice to now have it all out there and ready to be dealt with again. Stay tuned.

It’s been almost a month since Thumper and I publicly vowed to look better naked both here on this blog and here on Denying Thumper.

Today we closed our first challenge month in Fitocracy, the app we are using to track our workouts, assign points, and to report in to the Ferns Workout Crew (#fwocrew). I think I speak for him when I say we both had a good month. Plus, I had fun.

While I didn’t really lose more than a few pounds, I was able to use my type A competitiveness to make sure I stayed in alignment with him and a few of our other team members throughout the month. For me, that is a huge step toward the positive. In the past, I have always been my own worst enemy because I could easily talk myself out of any activity that involved not sitting down at the end of a long day of traveling. I used to joke that I needed a man with a whip to go to the gym with me for motivation, and, while I still have the position open for the right man at the right gym, this level of virtual accountability has been just what I was hoping to have to fill the gaps when my mind is swimming with laziness.

Using Fitocracy, Thumper and I have started another challenge for March and it’s simply who can earn the most points and bragging rights as we have other ways we can challenge each other at other times. And, speaking of bragging rights, because caring minds want to know, I would be negligent if I didn’t point out that I won our February challenge by about 500 points, although he has a larger total overall point balance than me. What’s funny is that, although these mean nothing in the scheme of the real world, I will admit it killed me when he pulled ahead enough that I would get my ass out of bed earlier to work out to bring our numbers closer together. For March, my goal is to continue the lifting pace I have already set, but add in a lot more cardio like running which I have never been good at doing. I used to say I wasn’t built for it, but honestly think I have always given up before I pushed myself.

So, all of this to say, thanks for putting up with our Twitter announcements and encouraging us as we move toward our naked pictures in June. If anyone is interested in joining us on this adventure this month, please send one of us a message as we’d love to have you in our virtual gym.

Finally, while it’s outside of the scope of this project to a degree, I have also promised Thumper that I will drink more water.

He worries.

I guess I should warn “those people” that is this not a sexy, kinky post as one needs to have been sexy and kinky recently to post a lot of that. I have felt neither this week but it’s coming back.

As I have mentioned, I am not traveling for almost three weeks and this is really throwing me off my game. Yes, I still have work to do (in fact, I am staring at a 150 page report I have to write that’s due Friday that I have only known about for six months and carried to four continents with me), but the inner Sheldon I carry around in my head is screaming at me because there is nowhere I HAVE to be and no logical schedule to be following.

Prior to this job, I was the typical 8-5 executive who always had an office to go to and a stress level that caused me to lose what hair I had left. When I switched careers, I spent months adjusting to having every day be different and often in a different city, but I quickly realized that no routine WAS the routine so it settled and I learned to embrace it and my stress levels are lower than in the last 20 years professionally. However, when home, I was struggling because I often became overwhelmed at the fact I had one, two or three nights to do what I used to have seven do to. This caused stress between Axel and myself because, frankly, I am just an ass when the world is not going my way. I try to fight it, but I just can’t sometimes.

That is where the idea of me being more controlled at home and while away in chastity came from and it was working, but with December being what it was professionally for him and my sex organ bleeding, the magic of that control dried up for a few weeks. However, as I have said, it will come back and I am looking forward to it. In fact, Axel and I talked this week on our road trip to what I call “Southern Hell”, aka, the in-laws, about how to get that back and how the chastity, we realized, had played a huge role in things. That is too much to add here, but I plan a separate post on that later today or tomorrow because I feel it’s important to share or at least for me to remember when I read this years from now for my own information.

Speaking of that trip, honestly that is what inspired this post in a way because it made me realize exactly how comfortable and how happy I have been since allowing myself to embrace my kink side, since allowing you all into it, since beginning my relationship with the bunny boyfriend, which ALL circles back to Axel and I opening our marriage.

I know it’s hard to get how all of that can happen around an aluminum Alabama Christmas tree, however, in this case, I was very out of my element and wanting to just tell every single person in the room that I had a piece of titanium in my penis, like plugs in mine and my boyfriend’s asses, and that I have met Doms/Dommes/slaves/subs/and pets in the last few weeks. It was crazy, but I had such a feeling of not fitting in that I was struggling to even make conversation. Of course, that was not fair to Axel so I worked hard and got past it, but it wasn’t easy.

I have told you I am a proud Southern man and was born and raised “down here”, but Axel and I come from very different Souths. Mine is one of acceptance, private education, dressing for Sunday dinner (at 2pm), and using one’s natural accent for emphasis or sexiness (or just when drunk). His South is, unfortunately, more stereotypical where judgment rules, religious symbols are placed everywhere (someone we know has a picture of Jesus printed on vinyl and cut to fit the hood of their Camry), accents are just, well, bad for the image of all Southerners, and our German SUV is still looked at as “one of them foreign cars” and seriously does elicit stares.

That said, most of the people are good, hardworking people and have never, ever treated me with anything but respect, even while praying for the gay to go away. However, after hearing my mother-in-law refer to me as Jake multiple times (yes, while Drew is not my real name, it’s not Jake either and after 17 years, she should know it) and after my father-in-law and his wife gave me a giant cross sticker for the window of our cars, I ALMOST lost it before Axel suddenly jumped in and started explaining how all of that was inappropriate, how we were both pretty much agnostic and, even if we were religious we’d never have it on our cars, and that my name is ____.

It was really funny because then he started talking about how they could use a nice “re-think” of everything, how people, including their neighbors have secrets behind closed doors, and how praying to the Camry would likely not save their soul. When the irrational people left and the conversation evolved, I had stepped out for a bit and came back in to hear him talking about this couple he knows that have the kids, the house, perfect careers, and the dog, but have open minds about life and how they thrive. In fact, that “husband even has a boyfriend” (which caused two gasps and one brother in law to be seen adjusting his crotch) and that she is “encouraging of it and sees it just like when she goes to the spa”. I am not sure if I was too proud of him to be happy or too happy to realize how proud I was or just too busy looking around the table to see if anyone was putting two and two together (they didn’t and I didn’t blush) but it was just one more step on the Axel evolution ladder in a weird, weird setting.

So, this was a long post about nothing, but just shows that once again, the dominoes are all falling in a row and that just makes me smile harder than I would if a troop of hot firemen were to walk through the room (well, maybe not).

More tomorrow on chastity and the plans for January but until then, remember, if feeling blue, go find yourself your own Camry to pray to. I hear it helps.

P.S. Yes, Thumper, I know you predicted I would not know what to do with myself with 3 weeks off.  The bunny is always right, folks

As I type this, I have debated about leaving this as a long comment or writing a separate post, but decided to go the post route, well, just because; however, if you have not read part one, which was written by the DILFy Thumper, go there first and then come back here and have no expectations that this is a normal post as I have tried to take a subject from earlier, add my side, and then shake it with a bit of casualness I don’t usually use.

In response, first, Thumper, thank you for writing that and Kitten and Ferns, thank you both as well for the great comments.

To end the cliffhanger that he left the Part One at, because I know it’s killing all of you waiting, yes, yes, I do want the friendship with a heaping side of bunny sex. Although, just for me, I am hoping we can at least say rabbit sex? I can do nasty things to both, but I think I could be waaaaay nastier to a rabbit than a bunny. Just sayin’.

However, I digress.

So, as I sit here trying to wipe the Sharpie ink off of my forehead, I am rather drawn to the comment from Alan H. and want to kick it around in my head a bit and want all of you to as well.  It’s a group thing.  Thump, I know it’s not the group you were hoping I would arrange, but patience, patience, my dilf.

From my side of it, the watch on the wrong hand did disappoint me, but it didn’t make me angry and I am not so sure why it disappointed me the way it did.  I mean, a watch on the arm does not a slave nor a friend make, but, it was and, for the time being, continues to be our thing (although there is a replacement idea in his inbox somewhere). That said, I think it was the signal, along with a few other comments he had recently made, that made me feel like I was in the middle of two boxes, the real definition of the “the switch”, really, and I needed to point that out to him. Because, just as he says he likes to stay in his subbie box with all of his nice toys (trust me – niiiiiiice toys), I am rather defined by the fact that I don’t play in one sandbox – anywhere. Period.

Sexually, I can go Dom or Sub within seconds, based on whatever vision is in my head or whose legs are open in front of me.  Professionally, I can command a room in minutes or simply stand in a corner and watch without ever once having the urge to go to the front.  Personally, I have friends who tend to dominate every single second I am with them without me thinking about it until I am with another friend who I don’t think has ever told me where he wanted to eat lunch, I just always drive us to what I am craving.  I mean, in reality, why the fuck did Thumper and I name this the Drew Duality?  That IS me.

Now, for those two groups he mentioned, there is not a single ounce of me that is worried we won’t work through this stuff, so half of you be happy and the other half go get dry fucked.  It is going to evolve and we will have a strong friendship (we already do really) and there will be lots of kink fueled rabbit sex – I mean, have you seen his boots?

What did hit me today, though, is how fascinating and fun this all is in ways I suspect neither of us ever even thought it could be.  By that, I mean that we are both two devastatingly handsome, masculine, same aged, professional men with incredibly beautiful spouses (and kids in his case), great houses, german cars, and happy souls.  However, despite all of that, our most common attribute is we each have an incredible penis (God, anonymous blogging can so be fun with adjectives) that we think with – often.

This is not meant to be the post to solve all of the following thoughts nor even explore them, but, in the coming months, we will at least try, I think.  See, one of the things I asked him to help me understand is bisexuality because I used to be one of those “pick a side” people, but am so so not that man anymore.  However, just as he is helping me get out of the pick a side box, I have absolute full intentions to help him understand the middle switch zone too.  Does that mean I will be bisexual one day?  Naw, I can say I just don’t feel it, but I might want to poke around to understand it (pun intended) (sorry you won’t be getting the Tesla, Thumper).  But, the absolute same applies to the rabbit, because he’s never going to be a switch, it’s not how he is wired, but, even on those days when the collar is not on, I am going to drag him to the middle every now and then because it’s good for him, and me, and Axel, and Belle.  It’s discovery.

In addition, we are having fun with the fact that we can really look at many things and tell the gay man perspective on it versus the “straight” man perspective of it.  Generally the differences actually do come down to backlighting and accessories, BUT, the fact that our penises communicate in the same way yet translate to our heads differently, is sometimes just fascinating in and of itself.

Actually, again, not the purpose of this post, but I would love to explore the idea of kink, and even which side you fall on, as an orientation one day.  I mean, I no so more chose to be wired in leathery middle ground way than I did to be gay, so I think it’s all in the same arena.  I see that as a Denying Thumper post one day though, because I don’t have the energy 🙂

Finally, to close on the fascinating and fun note AND to work in Thanksgiving week (see what I did there?), I am thankful and very happy to have fallen into this little world the last few months and am very thankful to have the ability to communicate and share it.  I mean, when you think about the odds of two men who both have a passion for writing about life, feelings, and fucking who are also sexually, mentally and comically attracted to each other who both then also have spousal freedom and encouragement, it’s kinda like a lottery thing really.  To go back to a tweet between me and my friend, the beautiful domme, Ferns, it is a show in the making and while she has a reserved spot in the front row and a participation expectation from Thumper, there should be plenty of seating available.

(Spoiler alert, the following contains no sexual activity and limited use of the word “fuck” and talks, yet again, about these two married men, who just happen to have two body parts that match nicely)

It’s about 9:00 on a Friday night and I am sitting in a first class seat with my fancy new iPad pondering. Despite the fact that I inevitably always sit next to the one person who chooses to use their light, I have always found night flights to be peaceful, almost relaxing places to be. Of course, that might also be the two drinks I have had and the third on the way, but I digress.

Anyway, I was sitting here and decided to read back through some of my initial posts and Thumper’s about “the day” and I got all sticky and gooey again, in both my mental and nether regions, kinda-sorta. Actually, it’s funny because last week he and I both posted about the “relationship agreement” and the “relationship evolution” and the dynamic of how things had “changed”, and how we were happy about it, even though the D/s aspect was going to shift more toward when we are physically together versus trying to carry it through, full time, often thousands of miles apart, and all that other jazz that comes with the long distance control. Though I still contend that option can work in the right situations, our careers, families, and, oh yeah, dominant spouses tend to limit our bandwidth for something as strict as that and, as a side note, both of our moods seemed elevated this week and seemed to shine through to the surface more than we cared to admit.  I attribute this to last week’s talk and the lack of the cloud of expectation hanging over each of our heads.

Going back and looking at T’s posts about meeting me and mine about the first time I met him (Thump, link those here?), I had to laugh because, when you read those now, our “grand evolution” last week was really just a big giant three week journey in a circle or, perhaps a figure eight at a minimum, because, without intentionally realizing it, our new “evolution” went right back to the very first posts each of us listed right here within our virtual, public memory books.

You know, those were THE posts. The ones that specifically said we were to be more than fuck buddies because we each liked, wanted and expected at least a few strings and while we would be close, we’d never be romantic;  the ones that said that establishing and maintaining a friendship would be paramount;  the ones that said that our spouses would ALWAYS come first and the ones that said that when we were together, I was going to own his ass and do some severe things to it if he was out of line or just for my amusement.

You know, just like two friends who play golf every Saturday – except for that spouses come first thing, right?

So, tonight, prior to me going back to read these postings, he and I robo-chatted about how we both felt about the first week of the “new agreement”.  This was not a planned topic and was not a great chat or a fluid one, because the timing of the day meant that our only connection point was when I was breaking the law by not using airplane mode on my iPhone until 10,000 feet, followed by a video message to me from him when I landed, which was then followed by me, in an attempt to use what I thought was my only 27 seconds of wifi for hours, writing 17,014 words into our messaging app in what must have read like an epileptic fit to him as I responded to the above items.  It was a fucking cluster fuck of a conversation; however, like even our most raw ones from the previous weeks, it was fun, informational, and included the words baseball and pussy at least three times each. It wasn’t an ideal time, but in life, when is it, so we took it, used it, and followed our mutual rule about honest communication being key.

Going back through the transcripts of this broken chat later, the words actually agree that that it wasn’t bad at all.  In fact, it was good and we each enjoyed our new levels of casualness while still knowing that we will and are planning way more fun times in person when that collar is not only going to snap shut, it’s going to lock.

All that plain ole vanilla aside, I did throw some sub challenges and goals at him this week and will continue to do so as we have agreed; however these will be based on real life calendars as we will do our best to enhance each other’s existence, not hamper it. Since I said that, I need to also say that being the good DILFY rabbit he is, Thumper met (and over achieved) all but one thing on his shortened list.

So, the moral of this story, for those interested, is that we are plugging along just fine (pun intended) and have realized that both of us being autodidacts when it comes to almost all every area of this new friendship that’s more than just a friendship yet really is all based on a core level of friendship which is then all wrapped in BDSM goodness, might just truly be our own theory of evolution.