What’s happening in my life

So I asked someone out via email, I know, tacky. But she’s on my floor at work and some discretion seemed to be in order. And she’s replied and I am sandbagging. I think that the answer is no. To be fair, I always assume that the answer will be no, just to protect myself a bit. So, I’m not opening the message yet because right now the answer could be yes. It could be enthusiastic and happy. So right now, the cat could be alive. It’s a schroedingers cat situation and I prefer that the cat be alive.

So the unboxing…

And the answer is… No.

Ah well, such is life

Dream

I dreamed I was crossing this busy street by my house, that there was a woman there and that she was crossing the street too she pointed out a oil slick and I walked right through it saying ” my shoes have great traction”. I went on and on about them and she smiled and asked questions. I was very proud of those shoes. We got to our destination in this vast parking lot, my truck. Usually in these dreams where my truck features, I can’t find it. I’m giving her a ride somewhere I pull out my keys and when I, a large man steps from the shadows and demands my keys. I tell him not a chance and he says “fine, I’ll just take it”. I pull my blade from a pocket and flip out the blade. He pulls out a 4 inch knife. I rush him, then hear a shot ring out. My companion took out a gun and shot him, quick as you please. I look over at her and say. “I had it handled.” she says, oh yeah, what were you going to do? Get stabbed until he got tired. No. I retorted, I was going to take the first hit in my stomach and then stab him. Great plan she says, I especially love the part where you get stabbed, stupid. Then we are driving and we just arrive, at her destination. I see that there is blood on my clothes so I go over to some kind of secret cache that has a washing machine. I take off my clothes and set them to wash, and I step into the shower. The whole time she is right there with me, keeping up a conversation. I am utterly unselfconscious around her. We talk while I shower. We end up going back to my place and we are talking with my sister about music, going through a new lot of music and then it cuts to us sitting back to back, holding each other up while my family talks about something or other. Her hand finds its way under my shirt and she is fondling my pecs. I return the gesture then we get up and go to my room, she sits on the bed then we cut forward to her leaving in a vehicle purchased by my father for her. For saving my life. I try to get her to stay but she says if I try to keep her too close I’ll lose her. I let her go. That scene or variants of that scene occur several times. Each time I’m more desperate for just a few minutes more with her. She comes back into my life and she’s in trouble. Some Russian drug dealer wants this pill she stole. I only care that she was in trouble, I set up a elaborate plan that involves a rival drug kingpin. Set it up so there is an apparent double cross and they take each other out while we walk out of the meet unharmed. We are holding hands and happy. . Fade to black. No memories of the dream then but I wake to my brain singing, “going to the chapel and I’m gonna get married”. And I mean actually singing it not dreamed. But as I wake

Some cliff notes to my brain

I know what I want, say what I mean and try not to play games. But game playing seems to be expected, and if I like the person enough, I’ll play.  For a time.  But there comes a point where I am ready to stop playing and that’s the point where many of my relationships end.  Either because they only liked the game and not me or they think that me stopping the tilt-o-whirl is another game. 

I say that after the fact in some cases because often I’m not playing a game.  I’m going after you hard because I’m interested in you. And if you give what you think are signals, well that’s too bad.  If you want to be kissed, ask or kiss me.  Consent weighs so heavy in my mind that unless you say you want something I’m unlikely to make a move that isn’t slow or cautious. 

Past basic flirting, I’m not playing, I’m in earnest. But because consent is so important maybe it comes off as game playing? I am very up front about who I am, what I like, how important consent is.  Does my honesty play out as another game?

Last thing, my brain does not operate on the premise that sex is the goal.  I’ve…grown jaded with that.  Some see getting people to fuck you as power.  I prefer the more equitable exchange that BDSM provides. And sex as pleasure just leaves me feeling empty after, not during.  But there is so much more after than during. 

My brain operates on the premise that real emotional connection is the goal.  What I call love.  I say “I call”  because I have the sneaking suspicion that what I call/think of as love is different than how others view it.  For me, it is devotion and loyalty.  Affection and lust, for your mind as well as your physicality. Seeing your flaws and loving you despite.  Who you are, everything that makes you, you.  That’s how I love.  And, critically, I don’t demand that we be the totality of each other’s worlds.  I think, perhaps, the fierceness with which I love is confused with obsession or controlling.  It’s not.  I’m passionate, thats true.  I want a partnership, that’s also true.  In a open or poly relationship I want to be a primary, but that’s the extent of the possessiveness.  Maybe that throws people for a loop? I can’t know.

Honesty

 

It has occurred to me lately that I seem to have lost some of my ability to discern lies from truth. Not a self deception, I still question my motives and actions thoroughly to make sure they come from a place of honesty. No, not self deception, but the lies of others. Perhaps in deciding to be honest and open about who I am, what I want and how I think…Perhaps by living this way, I’ve lulled myself into believing that others are as honest as myself. I am aware that we often see our thoughts and actions, our intentions, mirrored in others. Even if that is not the actual intention of those others. Perhaps that is the ramifications of living honestly. Each choice must be measured by its cost. Perhaps by being open and honest I incur the cost of allowing others the space to deceive.  But it conversely allows them the space to be as honest as I.  Perhaps the cost is not horrible.  But it is something to be mindful of.

Seattle thoughts

Something about this day reminds me of the endless moments of potential that hang heavy whenever I’m in Seattle. A slow, and at the same time light stretching of my soul, as if something in me has just awoken

The moment it all begins

He pulled her aside, away from the main floor but still in sight of others. Wanting her to feel safe but still private. The fire in his heart flared when he looked at her, uncertain to the purpose of this meeting.  Weeks of casual flirting had led them here, to this.

“I’m going to kiss you,” he growled.  His voice heavy with need and the hint of a question.

“ok,” she replied, soft and not sure where this was going.

She leaned in, eyes closed. but instead of the light pressure on lips she felt soft flesh against the side of her neck, kisses up the back of her, spine. The feel of him against her, kisses on her throat, small nibbles on her ears, his hands in her hair. kiss after kiss trailing across across her cheek until finally, the light kiss against lips; tongue licking against her inviting her, mouth open, pressure and need pushing and pulling, just this shapeless moment.  Somehow heightened by the eyes of their coworkers. Breaking apart. His forehead rests against hers. Eyes to eyes.

“come out with me tonight?” he asks

When it’s time

Are your hands as gentle as your smile, as cunning as your eyes? Do they move with the agility of your tongue? Are they as wicked as your smile?
Whisper to me your desires.  Describe each touch, each pleasure.  Tell me in crowds.  Tell me with friends.  Share your thoughts with me.  Our secret world, encapsulated in our bodies and these whispers. Cast me furtive glances across the room.  Your smile and the duck of your head.  Demure when you’re anything but.  Let’s find a place away from the crowd, I want the smell of you in my nostrils when I talk to your friends.  To look at you with a smile, full of fire and promises. I want them to wonder why you blush so when I say your name. Hold my hand under the dinner table.  Watch the fire dance and lean back into me.  You are home.

7 words to make you fall in love x 7

The chores are done. I cooked dinner.

I’ll pay for your next tattoo/piercing.

You’re the sexiest person I’ve ever undressed.

Hearing your voice is like coming home.

Your touch makes me ache for more.

I’m the blade at your side. Orders?

I burn. Warm yourself by my flames.

Afternoon nap clarity

There comes a point where all of these hurt feelings and these bitter dreams must be discarded. Where they become a drag rather than fuel for the fire. Scrub you from my safe places, no longer harbor feelings of the possible. I traveled my alternate lives and you weren’t in them. I thought that meant we were possible in this one. Turns out it’s because we are not right for each other in hundreds of realities. I should just take the win. If not having you(you having me) can be considered winning. It would be easier if there was someone else I was interested in. Someone not already with someone I mean. For the first time in two years there is no one else and that is throwing me. I think I’ve plumbed the depths of Okcupid, at least locally. All of my 80 percent and higher matches anyway. Fuck, table it for now. Coast out of February and see what happens.

Where I am as a Top.

I have not been an Active participant in BDSM for about a year and a half. I identify as a Switch. For me that means rope play and pain but no humiliation, in a Submissive role. As a Top, I hesitate to say Master, I am proficient. I don’t consider myself to be the best, probably far from it.

Tools and other accouterments, I’ve used and have preferences. I prefer a paddle to a strap or open hand. They all have their place but we’re talking my preferences here. I prefer ball to ring gags, though there is something to be said for rolled up panties. I’ll use a flogger if my sub prefers it but I prefer a quirt. It’s easier to control and allows for a range of strike strengths. My rope work is simplistic, nowhere near shibari and any play partner should either get that elsewhere or be prepared for slow going.

Safety is my watchword. I won’t use a single strand whip of any kind. Impresicion is too likely and heavy damage is possible. Perhaps, only if under another skilled Tops tutelage but I’m leary. I prefer a clear definition between normal and scene at least at first. I’m willing to revisit the subject the deeper in we are but it is a concern.

I will take on couples but only if I’m topping one or the other or both. I would need to trust another Top to work with them. That takes time. For couples I prefer that the spouse be there for the session. I prefer that we talk for several hours at least, and that is per session at least at first, about what you as a sub wants and need. I prefer the Green, Yellow, Red paradigm for safety but will consider a safeword.

I expect to make mistakes, I expect us to talk about and through those mistakes. I wish I could provide references but I cannot. Eric was my last real contact and he is not available. The last person I topped was part of a couple and is why I prefer the spouse/significant other to be present. Their partner knew I was topping them but I think they didn’t realize how emotionally involving that can become and weren’t prepared for the potential fallout. A case of someone being accommodating to their partners needs but not realizing to the extent that those needs were intertwined with who they were. It was a whole thing.

I prefer what I call Orders to humiliation. I’ve never been good at humiliation. Morgan tried to teach me but it wasn’t her thing, it wasn’t my thing so we sort of just dropped it. So telling you to do things and punishment for failure and rewards for success.

I prefer to discuss potential scenes ahead of time. What is desired from those scenes. I prefer they start from a common place and branch off from there. I like to have the flexibility to change it up as the scene progresses. Taking it gentler or harder as the scene demands.

Some scenes I’m willing to engage in in public but I prefer either experienced people watching or privacy. Being watched can heighten the experience but like someone standing at your shoulder while you type you can make mistakes and where it concerns someone’s body I prefer caution. Which brings me to edge play. Air deprevation and flechettes are the only methods I’m comfortable with. For either I will want a spotter. I prefer a nurse but I know that’s a tall order. Taking it slow and knowing your body will increase my comfort level but I’ve never engaged in edge play with someone I was not dating.

There is a lot more I could say, but I think I’ve covered the highlights.