I have a dilemma about casual play and it’s the reason I stopped doing it, haven’t done it for so very long, and don’t do it as a rule.
In play, I need and *want* to create the bubble, you know, ‘the bubble’. That intimate, hot and lovely space that exists between me and him, that place that I describe, well, all the time. For me, play is about creating impossible intimacy, about opening him up and shoving my fingers into the wet stickiness inside. It is about those moments when there is nothing else, when all that noise is … Continue Reading
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He wears black boxer briefs, also a rope corselet in white, a rope pentagram harness in white and red, a collar, wrist and ankle cuffs, a ball gag, a blindfold, he is kneeling.
I clip his wrist cuffs to the rope at his belly, I examine the ties, the loops, the smoothness of the rope around him, reach between his legs to pull the ends forward, through his legs and up to attach it to the d-rings on his collar, I pull it tight, I am touching him, exposed skin, my knee pressed against his groin.