I’ve only been in love a few times and each time I ‘knew’ it differently. The realisation of love, the clarity of ‘I love you’ arrives for me in different ways. Sometimes a wave of everything that came before just catches up with me, sometimes some piercing emotion that almost lifts me off my feet.
I can romanticise those moments, but the one I remember most clearly, the one that perhaps shocked me the most was so very mundane, so ordinary.
I was in my late twenties, my man and I were at a friend’s place and he was showing … [...Read More]
Last year I received this email out of the blue.
I hope that you might by chance remember me… We met online some years ago, 90’s. Your tag was SweetAs… I asked you what you were Sweet as and your reply was chocolate ice cream melting on a summer day. My name is [redacted]. You and I enjoyed a lot of correspondence. Your first website had pixel that could be clicked on to see the hidden pages. I have searched your name a number of times and was lucky enough to find what you had on amazon.
You changed my
… [...Read More]
Eight and a half hours later, he left.
A much longer date than expected.
Late in the afternoon, we fortified ourselves with crackers, vegetable sticks, and dips I had prepared for snacks, and slices of chocolate mud cake and strawberries that he brought. When it got late though, way past dinner time, I had no real food to offer him. I lamely offered to cook some eggs. We had more chocolate cake instead. And champagne. Though that was mostly for me.
We had agreed on certain personal services for our date:
- Forced winking* (not negotiable)
- Food/wine service
- Hand/foot massage
… [...Read More]
The boy who I have quietly dubbed ‘my prey‘ kept in touch with me after our date. There is ‘something’ pleasing about him that I can’t quite put my finger on, you know: ‘something’. His engagement is light and fun and he makes me laugh. His little hints of submission are sincere and flirtatious. He hasn’t balked yet at my nudging at him a little.
He didn’t push me (prey doesn’t push), but he was obviously keen to meet again. I very much like what he brings to the table, so I invited him on a second date, … [...Read More]
A date with a lovely submissive boy who has been in my inbox on and off for about four years. He’s smart, personable, articulate, and pretty as fuck with a body to die for.
We talked about meeting a few years ago, but when I dug a little deeper, I could see that we weren’t compatible, so we never did. There were a few factors: He’s nearly 20 years younger than me (obviously that’s still true!), he had some very strong (and incompatible) ideas about how D/s relationships ‘should’ be run, and he was still carrying the weight of his … [...Read More]
I have boxes that I move from one place to the next, leaving them unpacked and unused. They contain my journals from the days when my triumphs and failures were written down painstakingly by hand. Endless pads and notebooks lie untouched in there. They also contain photo albums of yore, from the days when you had to take film into the camera shop and have them developed, and photos were expensive and precious.
I was looking for a couple of old photos the other day, unsealed the boxes, the musty smell of disuse wafting out. I flicked quickly through some … [...Read More]
This time, I sent sex-voiced Texan a photo of a pose I liked as inspiration: casual, leaning against a wall, hat in hand, boots on, jeans, no shirt.
He sent me three pictures: two variations of that pose, and one off-script photo featuring his bound hands, the boots and hat in shot.
I am (almost literally) floored by my visceral reaction to how beautiful he is. But it’s not JUST his beauty. It’s the fact that he happily trots off to do his best to give me what I want. Then he over-achieves. Unf.
This was my reply.
I … [...Read More]