Hi.

I will be dammed for writting this later, as I have not posted for a veryveryvery long time.

The deal was that we would have this sort of back and forth, a tension…. if you will.

The tension was no longer.  We had been enjoying the splendors of our unfettered sexual relationship since the second week of our arrival.  Of course there has been the natural tension and release that dominates any sexual give and take.  It’s been pretty great thus far.

This was not the vision Max had in mind for the content of this blog…nor the direction, hence the gigantic lag.

So he expressed disintrest, it was not what he had envisioned.

We have been sexually content.

Then there was last week….

I got a full time job that sucks the very life out of me.

No sex for a week.  And I did’nt even care.

I’m tired and depressed.  I’m fucking up in all sorts of ways.

I got a fabulous new haircut today…on his dime…in hopes that it might make me feel better.

I’m sorry.  The price was too high.

Purple is Grand

Maxwell informed me early this morning that he had a few errands to run, but that he would be back in just a bit.  That was more than fine with me, a little more time beneath the sheets spent dreaming was all I wanted.  We had stayed up pretty late last night…..

We were finally able to put our not-so-innocent wardrobe away in some new furniture we had purchased over the weekend.  It was pleasing to finally see our naughty things find a proper home.  They had lived in secret bins under beds, and bland boxes in the corner of our room.  He opened up the briefcase, and began pulling out all the various stand-in cocks, and plugs.  The Feeldoe was the one that caught his fancy.  I had yet to use it as it was intended, only as a dildo because the size and girth are alarming similar to Max’s lovely phallus.

With raised brows I asked him if he could handle it, as he examined it throughly.

“It’s so smooth…I think so.”

My eyes lit, and the smile cracked.  Full latex was a must.  I had to see the way that long purple cock looked as it jutted from my shiny black crotch.  Not to mention the visual of it sliding in and out of his ass, also shiny and black.  Fucking hot.

We decided to do it in the bathroom for three reasons.

*the sound of the shower masks the noise

*clean-up is a cinch

*the giant double mirrors, so we can watch the show

I connected two long leather belts together, to fashion a harness around his upper torso.  His wrists were cuffed, and fastened to the harness high, and tight behind his back.  I proceeded to insert the bulbous end of the Feeldoe inside my kitty.  What a well crafted toy!!  I was pretty amazed at how comfortable it was.  I knew it was not going anywhere, no threat of slippage.  And my oh my how it looked.  It was just as I imagined.  Next time I promise we will take a photo.  One of the things I love the most about that image in particular is how unreal, and cartoonish it looks;)

Just like a man, I took my cock in hand and began to stroke it’s slick proportions.  If only…

My lubed fingers found their way to Max’s nether regions, working them slowly, preparing him for the grand entrance.  Just a few short minutes later he began to work his ass backwards, signaling his desire.  We worked together slowly as his ass descended on my bright purple cock.  I reached around and began to stroke him as I began to rock gently in and out of his ass.  Once I found my pace, it didn’t last much longer.  I began to moan as though I were exploding inside him,  rolling into him with more urgency.  All the while my hand is picking up speed on his cock, as the throbbing is getting hotter.  He moves forward and grinds his ass down hard on my cock as he lets puts his head back and lets the orgasm take him to the other side.

bent

It always starts with something innocent enough — a photograph; something mundane. But it quickly turns into something more. As I’m watching a pet rodent running around in one of those plastic balls, I find my mind fantasizing about putting a human in one — dressed in rubber, leather and various bondage gear or course.

This is the place my mind always goes.

——————–

Lately, it’s been anonymous and somewhat forced. I wear a mask, or something that hides my face — makes me anonymous. I am no longer an individual, but a part, a widget as it were — made into the true form of what industrialized society turns us into. And it’s by force — I hold her arm behind her, reaching around to work the mechanism I know will take her there. Perhaps she is gagged. But the sure thing is that we are both taken to that place in our psyche that is as old as life on this planet — the place that matters most, and we will never leave behind.

Boxes

All of our possessions arrived yesterday, in twenty boxes.

The heaviest box of all was the “kink” box.

Fifty pounds of leather, latex, chain, gas masks, boots, dildos & plugs.

Sex has been a very far away thought, but I have been having all these sex dreams. Not really crazy or anything, just lots and lots of me getting it in all different positions.

We had attempted the night before but I became suddenly weird, and awkward. I whined about the bright lights. I wanted the lights to be dim, and subtle…like in the room we used to share. Then, I don’t know what the hell happened. I’m sure the wine before hand added to the drama. I just chalked it up to stress, and settling back into to one another. Lovey dovey it has not been.

I awoke yesterday and decided that no matter what stress we encountered throughout the course of the day, I would simply deal with it, then be the little duck that lets it roll off her back.

As a side note; I’m a low key girl, very low stress. When I’m blasted with it on all fronts my management skills are little to none.

There was one little incident when he got home from work. He was very agitated. The tears sprang forth, so I went to the brilliant back yard, took a few deep breaths and thought of the fabulous fucking I was going to receive later that night if I played my cards right.

Seriously, that’s what got me through the night. He was in no mood to fuck. Last thing on his mind.  But I knew it was crucial to do so.  We needed to connect.  I needed his cock buried in me as far as it could go to make me feel real again.

As the night wore on, my easy demeanor caught him. Soon he was approachable. The next couple of hours were filled with easy conversations about this and that.

“Maxine, why didn’t you move the kinky box in first?”

I frowned, “Much too heavy, I needed you to bring her in.”

The lighting issue had been worked out.

The tension had finally left the room.

Color Swell

We’re here!

There was no exclamation point yesterday.  I will only say that it certainly was not how I had envisioned our first day in our new home.  Let’s just say that it sucked…really hard.

Today it was super sunny (!!!).  The beauty of what surrounds me is like something out of a Technicolor film.  Giant Christmas trees everywhere you look, lush ferns, crazy-every-color-you-can-think-of flowering bushes, neon-green grass, flowersflowersflowers,…it’s just astounding.  If you could only see my back yard!  I found a wicker rocking chair near the side of the house, pulled it to the patio bathed in sunlight and just soaked it all in.

That first swell of new love made my heart skip a few today….

Mixed

I can’t fucking sleep.

Too much on the gray matter. I’m saying my goodbyes, meeting with good friends and family. Once Maxwell arrives it’s all business. He is coming home to assist in the final clean-up, because there remains many of his belongings. And of course to ease the stress of the actual get-up-and-go.

My sister is a mess. Her eyes are forever brimming with tears when she looks at the squids.

But I’m getting really excited.  I will be the new girl in town after all.

The fucking saltwater is stinging the tear in my lip at this moment but that’s ok. It’s great.

I’m up, and making mixes for my peeps. Songs to remember me by. It’s just awful that I don’t have a turntable, and a bloody tape deck. Real mix tapes are a rare and prized gift. I have received one in the last 10 years…from Ruby. They are treasures indeed.

On a little side note…i have been pleasuring myself with a newfound vigor (!!!), twice a day at least.

I really need to try and sleep, tomorrow is back to back good-byes.

synthesis

So, as you all can imagine, Maxine has been on my case to make a post in recent days. She certainly has had more to say than I. Of course, I must invoke the classic blog excuse that I’ve been too busy, too busy. But Look: I’ve really not been thinking about sex recently (well, not too much, anyway), and at the same time there has been a debate in my mind about what this blog is really about.

Maxine says this: that it should have context. A sex life happens amidst a real life. I begrudgingly concur. The thing is, is that I’ve been noticing — I’m becoming more and more aware — that my sexual fantasies are disconnected from reality. Once again, the fetish. Fetish is outside of reality. Fetish takes sexuality outside of reality and recontextualizes it. It is synthesized, plastic. So how to put fetishism into the context of reality?

That’s the $1,000,000 question, now isnt’ it?

White Light Generator

It’s natural.

I’m a normal, healthy, young woman who is naturally driven by a few key desires.

Surely this theme is running amok in sex-blogs world-wide. It’s simply that time of year for the lot of us.

I’m going nuts. Every one I know is having crazy, madcap sex with whom ever they want, when ever they want. The only ones that aren’t are the ones in terrible, sexless marriages. But even they do it just because they cannot resit the rites of Spring. Man oooh man.

Maxwell and I send one another picture mail almost once a day (no, it’s not what you think!). It’s just random stuff. I see something, think of him, click, then send. This afternoon I sent him a picture of me, outside in the sun, with my big fat aviator shades on. He sent one back of him in the shop, with his big fat black shades on. I swear my crazy receptors sent a message at the speed of light to my nether regions..BAMM! I felt that swell so fast. Lest me give you the impression that I’m all testosterone.

I wanted to actually snatch those shades off his gorgeous face, pull him in close and just absorb him.

It’s been nearly a year since we have lived under the same roof. I was a bit worried, although I’m not sure quite why.

Where once there was worry, there is now an acute feverishness.

I can’t wait for the daily interaction with him.  The lazy mornings, the squids asking us for new answers to old questions, spooning for five more minutes, passing by with salacious smiles….

You get the picture.

My Way

This will be the first one.

We discussed this well before we began this joint adventure.

How would we feel or react to feelings, information, or experiences prior to an actual conversation about said things.  We agreed that it would be fine, so long as it never got into some silly back and forth banter.  We are both very open with one another, for better or worse.  It is one of the many beautiful aspects of our dynamic as a couple.

My dear friend Nathan and I had dinner a couple of nights ago.  I was telling him how absolutely terrified I have suddenly become, especially as I’m trying to fall asleep.  I question my abilities to live up to Maxwell’s standards…only sometimes…when it’s 3am., and the gears won’t halt in my head.

Then I snap out of it.

My friends, the ones I share everything with, support mostly every decision I make.  That being said, I have a small handful of those.

Nathan and I talked mostly about our new lives.  Me with Maxwell in a new city, with the kids, and he  without his wife in the near future.  They both are far better existences.

So we toasted to our new lives with everlasting symbols for life, in black ink just beneath the skin.

Maxwell and I have one as well, a different symbol that means something else.  It’s very personal, far more mysterious than any other ink on my body.

Simple and small, yet the most complex piece of art that is embedded beneath my skin.  It has deep roots that I will be uncovering for many years to come.  I look at it every day, and know it’s significance…it’s just to the left of my left pelvic bone.

I want at least two more before I go.  Lizzy, and Ruby need one too.

Significance, and Impact.

I’m saying goodbye in my own way.

Lippy

“Fuck Maxine…you have gotten quite lippy lately.”

Lizzie remarked after I relayed yet one more tale.

It’s true. I’m quite sure I have grown at least one testicle in the last few months.

I know what I want. I have always known.

It’s taken me a long while to actually get to that confident place where I know I can get it…whatever it may be.

Just in time.