Pep talk for the tired

I just want you
Just want talking in the morning and touches reassuring me that you’re real
Just want stupid jokes and silly songs
Just want Dominance and submission because I’m unwilling to sacrifice a part of my identity to conform and neither should you
Just want arguments. That’s right. Disagree with me. Let’s talk it through and come out stronger, or at least feeling OK about the compromise.
Just want talks about our days, the minutiae. It’s in the cracks that flowers bloom.
Just want passion. From sweet forehead kisses to romantic gestures to mind blowing creative sex and sensual play.
Just want all of you. The things you hide. The things you consider bad. The gross. The beautific. The highs and the lows. Everything. Everything.

You. Who are you? Maybe we know each other. Maybe it didn’t work out. Maybe I ruined everything. Maybe you did. Maybe we see each other but never think, yeah let’s see. Maybe we jumped too late or too soon. Maybe we have yet to meet. Maybe I don’t look like what you are looking for. Maybe I’m too blind to see.

But I am looking. Am hoping. Am wanting. I’m not waiting. I’m active. Find me. Look for me. I’m looking too.

It is all possible. Don’t give up hope. Don’t give up.

Thinking about endings and beginnings

I understand how people feel when they say they’d rather be alone.
I understand how they feel when they say they don’t want a relationship.
I understand when they want an uncomplicated life.

It’s easier to be alone than to bend for another.
It’s easier to act in the silence of your own thoughts than to think about how your actions impact others.
It’s easier to be, alone.

The closest approximation is to say that I feel sane. Clear. And I see how this feeling can be construed as better. Because what we tend to remember is the end of the relationship. We remember the pain and uncertainty. We remember that feeling that nothing is right nor will it ever be. We feel that torture and we say, “Never again.”

But….
I remember.
I remember feeling free.
Feeling like each day had greater meaning because I was building something. Something for us.
Feeling like I was growing as a person to fit into this dream.
I remember and I know it’s possible.
The most painful part is that I know it can work and not end in flames and agony.
I have proof.
It took an outside hand to take all.

So, while I enjoy this alone getting to know myself as myself, I know I can’t be like those who are eternally single. I know I’ll take the chance again.
Because, when it works, it is the most beautiful thing I can build. And I’m a better man for it.

Just…what…uh…no idea

I’m in a position now where I want so much to be holding in my arms the ones that I love. But I know that is either a distant future or a impossibility and I have to deal with that.

In a way it’s like a breakup but without the constant questioning and self recriminations. In this case I know the reasons. I just lament them.

Right now, I’m sad often and I don’t want to be but I also don’t know how to stop it my self.

I’ve been incredibly lucky to meet extraordinary people through my blog and though some hurt me, I still feel incredibly fortunate to have the chance to be with people who meet my mind first rather than the crucible of a dating site or a munch or something. Because, I’m not great at those.

Let’s be clear. I’m weird. I have odd notions and hobbies. I have strange views and see things differently. What the majority find interesting, I find mostly a nuisance. I point this out, not to set myself apart, but to demonstrate that I feel as if I’m a outsider.

When you add in BDSM and a preference for strong submissives, I find I’ve narrowed my interests perhaps too narrowly.

I’d love to say that such a narrow focus means that I find my way clear but really I’m all a muddle.

I scare people away because I’m intense and always seek clarity. Not because I am meek but because I can have a effect where I bowl someone over.
But then I just melt if someone says, “Yes, Sir,” and means it.

I don’t know where forward is. Or if I need to heal first. Or if I just need someone I love to look me in the eyes and say “Yes, I choose you” and mean it down to their bones.

Laughable progress

The simple fact is that I’m in as good of a place as I’ve been in a long while and still so distant from what I want. This year has been one long fall. A relationship I thought was strong faltered and burned. And proved that I had no idea what was happening. One seemed to promise something then kept pulling back like a retreating army. All gained ground evaporated and just the faint wisps of what was remains. One burned in darkness, blazed in transformative light then faded from vision only to emerge transformed and out of reach. One started like rapid firing synapse only to lapse into the occasional spark. One consumed with baleful malevolence until, at last, the final line was crossed and it settles into unquiet quiescence. One spoke like murmur until, when the time came, a quiet shake of the head and no. That seems like a great many to me but maybe not for others. And maybe I do couch my happiness too often in my romantic hopes. But I’ve given up on hoping. It hurts too much. To think, maybe and work towards it, only to have it ripped away by things I can’t change or effect. Left with little but blood and pain and memory
I know, this shits depressing but it can be useful to take stock. 

Fall is good thinking weather

I hate going slow. In a relationship, I should clarify. I know I should learn to deal with it and I’ve really gotten much better about it. And I should clarify again that I consider any interaction that involves deep conversation a relationship. In the sense of growing levels of interconnectivity as the interactions spiderweb and one becomes enmeshed. I like the enmeshing portion, it’s what tells me that we, whether it be a friend relationship or a romantic relationship that this might last. If I’m important enough to make the acquaintance of friends or family then the relationship seems more stable to me. And stability and clarity is important to me. Better to start exploring the possible from a stable framework. A friend told me that she expected that from me. That I would want to be certain in my speech and make sure that I am well understood because I am a Dominant. I suppose I never thought of that. Because when you swim in the sea, you don’t really think about the water. But she’s right. If we understand each other we can be comfortable. If we are comfortable, we can explore and be the best version of ourselves easier.
But still, I hate going slow. Even though I know it’s a more stable path. I’ve lost too many people to sudden things. Not just Morgan, but other people too. That makes me feel rushed. But I need to take a breathe and slow down. Very few people feel comfortable with fast, and if they do, many see fast as temporary.

Valentine’s day 17

The press of our bodies heats the air. Musk and sex fill the back seat. I bury my face into the crook of her neck, pressing the muscle of tongue against the flutter of her beating veins. We push up together and I pull down, as she crests down. Like a wave that moves her onto me over and over. Parted for less than a second, but starved for each other.

I hear a soft sound to my left and see Sara watching us, drinking us in, memorizing us. Like a movie she’ll play back later. I reach down and rub my thumb against hood, grazing clit in time to our thrusts. I feel Tara tighten like a fist around me each time I brush clit. I know she’s right on the verge. I slow down, watching pulse slow then quickly build our momentum again. I feel myself start to lose control. Any second I’ll be past the point of no return.

That won’t do.

I slow again but quicken my thumb and make sure the slower thrusts run over and over the rough gspot. I watch as Tara clenches over me, pulse against pulse as she goes boneless. I almost lost control.

The pains of having two lovers’ needs to take care of. I move Tara to the seat across from me and she sprawls languid in afterglow. I turn to Sara to see her sliding to her knees and bends face first in Tara’s still tender pussy. I watch as my wife runs her tongue in long slow circles. Little minx.

Punishment for not waking her up I suppose. Brat. Well, surprises all around then. But I will admit that watching my love cause our pet, our girl, to writhe and moan just destroys me. I could watch them for hours. Just because I know they enjoy it and enjoy me watching them. And they are mine. If I were any happier it would be illegal.

But, Sara knows that she should have asked permission first so, let the punishment fit the crime. I pour the lube from the warming tray down into Sara’s soft pink pucker. I hear the intake of surprise but she keeps to her slurping task. I work in the lube into her. Then pour more onto my cock. I’d normally have opened her up a bit with a plug first but she’s no stranger to my cock in anywhere I desire. I’m just normally more deliberate and orderly.

But today, I press in against her, pushing until I feel resistance then holding, then pushing deeper until I hear her softly whimpering and pushing back against me. I know that without the preliminary she has to be in pain even if she is also in pleasure. Gods, I love my little pain slut. Always give them what they need.

I pull out leaving only the head and slam back in, eliciting a scroam. Half scream half moan. And quickly pound into her. No thought to what else she may need. This is a punishment. I ram my body against her slapping into her as hard and fast as I can until, overwhelmed by her undulating the inner walls of her anus, effectively sucking my cock with her ass. Minx. I blow into her. I feel myself empty into her ass and I pull out with a soft pop. I look over at her and she is smiling, radiant in pain and pleasure.

“Tara, dear, please clean out Sara’s ass. She’s made a mess,” I order.

Tara has been watching for a minute while I worked over Sara.

Sara angles her muscular ass to Tara and winks at her. Brat.

I catch the wink in the tinted windows. Shaking my head, I say “Sara, clean your stink from my cock. You have made a mess.”

Knowing how much Sara hates humiliation, not a hard limit but she loathes it, she knows she took it too far. She bends her head to my sloppy cock dripping cum, lube and ass juices. She begins to lick me clean. Our eyes holding each other, she licks right up the center vein. I feel myself growing hard. I’m not made of stone.

Sometimes I wonder who’s really in charge.

Super power? 

I have many geek friends and I get asked the question, “If you could have a super power what would it be?” 

I usually say teleportation, because who wouldn’t want to be able to just go anywhere whenever. But, I was thinking and I think I want this one more, it’s nontraditional but then, so am I. 

I think I want to be able to see an aura around the people who are interested in being with me. Obviously, there would be fluctuations but when I reveal things that matter and you no longer are interested, at least then I’d know. And I’d be able to ask out people without first telling myself that they are going to say no, so in asking, you will have lost nothing. The calculus of being single.

Am I high maintenance?

I am tough to be in a romantic relationship with, I think. If I know where I stand, have affection from my partner, and we have communication every day then I’m OK. Probably even good. On some days great.

But if I don’t know where I stand, then I’m always seeking information to get to that information. Which means weird questions and anxiety.

If we don’t communicate every day for more than a single exchange, I begin to accrue anxiety and eventually spiral into a full blown spinout and possible depression.

Cold language or cold treatment can seem to be lack of affection. And it almost always means there is a problem. Maybe not with the relationship but with life or whatever.
This leads me to believe that I am not trusted. And cue eventual anxiety and depression.

I feel like this makes me high maintenance. Or be perceived as high maintenance.

Anxiety and depression reactions are not ideal consequences but they are things that can be alleviated by my partner just being there. In that state I don’t need solutions, I just need presence.

Those things seem like things things anyone would want?
Am I asking for too much?
Those seem like normal things to want.