I said in my last post about the cougarling’s visit that he never replied to the ‘thank you’ email I sent him a few days after we parted.
I was concerned that I’d left him with hurt or anger or bad feelings, and thought that his lack of reply may have been a reflection of that.
But he did reply, finally, and long after I had reconciled myself to not hearing from him again.
I was surprised, not least because it was super sweet, lovely.
At my best, I hope that men I have had in my life in some … Continue Reading
I want to talk about wider lessons I learnt about trying something casual, but I’ll do that in another post.
One of the things, though, is this: If we aren’t compatible, I really need to not talk to him.
Because it breaks the tenuous hold on ‘whatever this is’ that we have established.
I knew it with holy-fuck-beautiful-eyes, and told him explicitly: ‘no talking’. It worked. But those were short visits of a few hours, not ‘an entire long weekend 24/7’.
Let me say this up-front: The cougarling is a lovely man, we were sweet and kind with … Continue Reading
…continued from Cougarling, with rope of course
He worked himself loose, of course. When he wriggled his hands free from the rope, he looked at me in triumph.
“If I’d known you were going to fight your way out, I’d have tried harder…” I protested weakly.
He smirked, nodded indulgently at me.
Pushing him down onto his back, I took the length of rope, and wrapped it more firmly around his wrists this time, something that approximated a double column tie, but probably wasn’t. I tied the end to the bedpost so his arms were stretched overhead, his body angled … Continue Reading
Some light rope play in the morning. A pentagram chest harness. Easy enough, but not for her: Unskilled and clumsy, painstakingly following directions shown on a youtube video, backtracking, trying again.
He was patient, always. Happy enough to feel the rope on his skin, gentle kissing, her chin already scraped raw from the night before when he had arrived after a full day’s work, a flight, a drive, carrying his five o’clock shadow into his long weekend. The rope play had a friendly camaraderie rather than some hot intimacy that spoke of more.
They’d agreed a bike ride along the … Continue Reading
Hidden under my bed is a beat up old suitcase. It’s a large bright orange lockable Samsonite that I’ve had for countless years of various kinds of travel.
It’s always locked. It’s heavy. It’s full.
When you open it, it looks disorganised, but it’s not.
Dildos of silicone, glass and steel, vibrators, butt plugs, lube, strap-on harnesses, various kinds of rope, cuffs, leashes, clips, blindfolds, an electronic zapper, paddles, a carpet beater, a breadboard, a slapper, a gorgeous leather garter set and…and… I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT ELSE.
I don’t know how that happened.
An entire suitcase full of femdom … Continue Reading
So July was a bad month for me, technically speaking.
I mean birthday and all, so presents and booze and loveliness which is awesome (and thank you all for the good wishes :)).
But wow, technically: Bad month.
Those of you who are very observant may have noticed some oddness on my blog for a couple of weeks in July. My web host’s server was hacked.
The first indication I had that something was wrong was that my admin password didn’t work. When I finally clicked ‘reset password’, I got an email that included an admin username which I … Continue Reading
Remember the cougarling?
6’3 of pretty, I contacted him on Fetlife, he drove 24 hours a couple of times to come and spend time with me… Yes, him.
We’ve kept in sporadic touch over the last two years. Friendly emails on and off (mostly off).
In my last message of note to him, I said this:
“You are most welcome in my lair, in my rope, and in my bed”
It’s rare that I offer anything casual to anyone, but even though our different communication styles meant there was nowhere to take anything longer term, I like him and … Continue Reading