Are You Tender with Her

“Are you tender with her” it was not a question I expected. Not one I had ever been asked. I had to process it. Ask for clarification.

Admitting i wasn’t sure what she meant, which is often the case. She repeated the question “are you tender with her. Kind, supportive, affectionate…” her voice trailed off rather than adding more.

In a way i was taken back. At the same time the question seemed deeply important to her and strangely intiment to me.

“i’m not an abusive jerk.” it wasn’t meant as a defensive statment. “It can be easy to confuse the rough interchanges with the real world dynamic.”  I added on

“i kiss her hello and good bye, there are as many gentle touches as there are rough ones. She feels warm and soft curled up next to me and i very much like that.”

After a short pause “so yes i am tender with her, supportive, polite, and kind…except for the times that we agree that I shouldn’t be.”


She simply said.  “Thanks i just wanted to understand.” Amd then moved in to other topics seemingly satisfied on some level that i am more than just my kinks with another.



A few words about that entire Ashley thing


It’s all over the news. Let me rephrase that it’s STILL all over the news the fact that some hacker group hacked some notorious cheater site.   Lives ruined, dreams of life long sexless suburban bliss and bitching about oral sex squandered. Families destroyed and Lawyers getting richer…Call me a cold fucker but so what? Secretly I’m hoping every member is an elected official or an Evangelical Christian with or without a reality TV show.


So when it was first brought up to me in casual conversation I may not have been exactly listening “Is there anything you need to tell me about the Ashley Madison site getting hacked?”


I paused and stated something to the effect of “Fuck no. are they still in business?   Christ I haven’t bought anything there since the Mommy and me dresses for You, Lil & Diva 12 years or so ago”


The Blonde just looked at me “You’re kidding right?”


I thought again. “No it has to be at least 12 years ago, actually more like 14. It was in Denver; I may have paid cash. Wait we closed those cards years ago. I think our info is safe.”


So the reality is I wasn’t listening but I also wasn’t worried. What I do…even things that are done under the dark of night (or a dimly lit dungeon) are all above board.   Well except when I’m swinging a paddle in an upward motion at someone’s sit spot.

She looked at me in s state of disbelief. I was still thinking white bread yuppie dresses and home décor.


She went on “so you can tell me every munch, play party, Con, vendor fair, what some kinky friend of yours had for breakfast and god knows what else but you don’t know what Ashley Madison is?”


Me starting to pay attention firing up the old brain came up with. “oh it’s some dating site, there was a GQ article a while back.” (A quick look up shows that it was 2013)

The Blonde “…and?”


Me ”And what It’s not a kink site….is it?”


TCB “No it’s dating site for married people having affairs”


Me “Hmmm, cool, wish I’d thought of that”


TCB “What the fuck is wrong with you? Do you have as profile on there?”


Me “ Not that I know of, I barely have time to get on Fet any more. They didn’t buy Fet did they? Adult friend finder was ruined after they got bought. Collar Me and me never did so well. I used to love Spanking Internet but they took down most of the good stuff and stories when they started selling content.”


TCB interrupted my walk down the adult website memory lane “So none of your friends are on there?”


Me “No clue.   Last time I heard they were using OK Cupid or maybe it’s Tinder. No one has tried to get me to join”


It’s very weird right. I know when all the things she listed above were and are. I can tell you where I have friends going off the top of my head but I never gave this apparently huge cultural phenomena of a web site a second thought. My only reference was an interview I read in GQ at some point. As hard as it seems to be to believe a site like that was never something that seemed to fit. Had it been a site to connect spanking tops with bottoms I would know it, if it had been about learning rope or rope based events I would have been there from the first mention of it.   But a site just for affairs. Not my style. Not my interest, sad to say but to main street USA and Vanilla laden. Add to that the fact it exists as a means of deceit.   So when you’re all about being open and communicating a site based on closed door negotiations and omitted facts and lies just has no appeal to me. If I wanted more of that in my life I’d go work for the government or become a lobbyist.



In an ironic twist of fate (and moderate bout of OCD) while writing this I learned that Laura Ashley is still in business, has annual revenue of 303.5m pounds sterling.   All of its US locations have been closed and the two main shareholders are involved in an ugly divorce.

Having read their annual report I once again know more about Laura Ashley than Ashley Madison.   BTW they still seem to have some very beautiful dresses if that’s your style

I’m a Lousy Monogamist

I am by my very nature a lousy monogamous person.  Some people are happy and “successful” as lifelong monogamists, others are serial monogamists bouncing from one long term “committed” relationship to the next.  And well then there are those of us that are serial non monogamists.   This is the category I fall into in every single category of existence.

I am just not predisposed to wanting only one of anything.  While this is easily acceptable for things like cars, designers, rock bands, types of cuisine, and even houses it quickly gets far more complicated when it comes to relationships. I always try to be both completely open and honest and at the same time sensitive to others feelings about these things.

  So in the interest of full disclosure two things have led to this post. The first a date night with the Chesty Blonde a few weeks back that is discussed below.  A few day later the “Monogamy Issues” post by M of Cammies whose post that I could identify all too well with.

My relationships are to say the least complicated. This extends beyond romantic and kink and well into my social and professional life.  My non satisfaction with a single thing isn’t about sex it is about absolutely everything.  I work a day job that requires far more hours and commitment than most yet always have 2 or 3 side businesses up and running. Part of it is a financial hedge, part of it is I need to be doing something ALL THE DAMN TIME!  So why would any other part of life be any different?

So it is a lovely Saturday night. In a rare “we’re almost actuality acting like a couple” evening I have the Blonde all to myself. Something I am not use to and relearning how to handle and honestly how to interact with beyond the business of the day.   Our rhythm had become an after thought and despite being together for 25 years we are often out of step with each other beyond basic operations.   So a nice dinner, a great hotel room and a ridiculously early flight for me the next day.  It was time we needed as a couple and I needed on a variety of levels.

Some where in the middle of that we found ourselves in a lounge where I was being chided into have a cocktail to “relax”.   A few protests later I gave in. My drinking ban is self imposed not due to health or addiction issues.   My addictions are Money, Power, and of course caffeine.  A few cocktails later for her the topic of my relationship with the Mini One comes up. She’s a frequent topic for us.  Not in any bad way, there is no tension about my friendship.

It is no secret that we’re very good friends and have in our own way gotten closer. The conversation is polite, not jealous, and genuine inquiries.  A few relationship status type things but really just a state of the nation line of questioning, how are her kids, what are her plans for the next few weeks etc.

Then baseball talk.  I don’t watch the game so have no real contribution to the conversation. Nodding and smiling as she talks about team X vs. Y and the results and standings.   It could have been cricket and I wouldn’t have had much less to offer.

 A bit later my Siren gets brought up. “I’d really like to meet her” the Blonde insists; I shrug. Then agree maybe someday and opt not to go into a myriad of things including the fact the Blonde has bailed out on meeting her several times. Mean while I’ve not seen the Siren for any length of time since late last fall.  Honestly there is no objection to the Blonde meeting her other than when I do see the Siren again would like to not have to share her and focus for a few hours on just reconnecting.  Or trying to.

Some innocuous topics… then the topic of rope as non-monogamy comes up…rather gets brought up.

“I don’t get how you can see doing a rope as non sexual” the past explanations have failed to appease or enlighten her. So I try again using a pick up basketball analogy.  Sometimes you are simply practicing, sometime you play the game for the love of playing and the where and with who is merely details. She’s not convinced. And in fairness that is not always the case because sometime it is intense, connective and in it’s own way intimate and sexual  After all the only rope the Blonde ever experienced was done by me and was part of sex. Well more or less.  So I try again using the examples from classes.   It becomes a series of inquires about who I have tied when and how.

This is a topic that first surfaced late last fall.  It was then a attempt to redefine acceptable behaviors …by me.  Impact play was completely ignored…thank your own personal deity.  As the title indicates I am a lousy monogamist.  This is simply a given, it is how I’m wired. It is where the phase for my own actions “to much is never enough” originated.

Still I am pretty damn good at agreeing to limits and sticking to them.   “Don’t do X with Y type compromises and request to me have been fairly easy to reach agreement on in the past. The jealousy that is or isn’t present is understood by me in each case and even as the no jealous type understanding is key.   Direct requests to not sleep with, kiss  or whatever after discussion and explanation have always been adhered to.  Still it gets frustrating, and yes I’ll play to the line but quit trying to limit how far is too far.  Moving the line closer is not an arbitrary thing.

We will never agree on what is monogamous and what isn’t.  Either decide to play with me again literally & figuratively…  The change was not going to get solved so rather than go down that rat hole and ruin what was so far and would later turn out to be a really great night the offer simply is “You’ve never gone to anything with me. So it’s impossible to articulate. You need to. You’ve never seen me play with another person; either causally or that I do have a relationship of some type with. You really should.  Then decide what is what”  She paused, thought and took it in. Asked few more questions about how I view my own dynamics with others. and we went on to have a pretty great and very hot remainder of the night.

Which brings me to the real point.  None of this means I love her any less.  Being like this is simply my nature, denying it is living a lie. Yes it’s different. The fact is if you know anything about me at all it should be I’m different and always have been.  No matter what the looks on  the outside; the picture of conservative business bliss.  Everything about how I live is not “normal”.  It is not a indictment of anyone. I can go from Tennis to running, to hockey, and not see it as odd. I can be at classical theater on Friday and a death metal concert on Saturday and not think twice.  I can go from a corporate whore mongering to looking at things in start up mode in 10 seconds flat. And I can go from being wonderfully happy with one person in one way, to being extremely happy with another with a different dynamic just as easily.

The only thing in my life that seems to be singular or monogamous is my love for the color black above all other colors.  Mainly because it matches my soul.

Corsets and Kink

The Chesty Blonde in a Corset

So are corsets a kink for me? Like all lingerie on a woman it is about intention and how it makes the other person feel but corsets do have a beauty all their own that other things lack.

My History with Corsets – Abridged

The Mini One
The first time she left me speechless it was an early fall Saturday morning. She was in a corset and skirt. She had come up to thank me for lending her significant other a little something and as I recall her words were “my ass is completely on fire”. I probably smiled and uttered a feeble and stunned you’re welcome while trying to not make a complete fool of myself and admiring her chest.  The corset certainly left an impression.


TCB In a coral Corset and Jeans

The Chesty Blonde and ME
Photography is not something The Chesty Blonde and I engaged in even in our kinkiest of times. Ironically the only pictures I’ve ever taken of her in any form of lingerie (excluding holiday PJ’s on Christmas morning) is the ones you see in this post. It was the culmination of months of negations, compromises and several panicked calls to me from the lingerie store. She wore the damn thing for maybe 15 minutes before discarding it for her usual attire and it was out of the house onto a second home within a week. Still I love the pics.



Temptations and Alice
There was a period in the early Alice and Raven relationships days when pictures of her in a corset were part of my regular diet. She was in her “Corset phase” and my phone and I certainly befitted from it. Since you don’t get to see it much on here and in case you are not aware Alice has quite the chest…epic in many ways which of course provided an epic amount of cleavage just begging for all sorts of evil attention.

My Favorite Sexy Little Brunette (a since past multi year relationship)
She had a body built for corsets and she knew it. They accentuated her already small waist and pushed her chest which all but stayed in place on its own (ok she was a 20 something at the time) into even more alluring positions. MFSLB was a lingerie kind of girl. Corsets were part of the routine just as much as stockings and g strings. From pretty and colorful to dark and brooding she would don her heels and simply strut and preen. You could always tell when she was wearing one. She exuded a special sexuality in them.

My Nasty Habit -Rocker Chicks
First off the “Nasty Habits” were Motley Crue’s backup singers for a time in the 80’s. Add a corset and you have several volumes of my exploits with similar looking corset clad versions of that look. Add leather pants, short skirts or skin tight torn jeans and you have it. Rinse and repeat for decades.

Defiling the Bride – One too many white Corsets
Once upon a time a very evil man had a raven haired beauty with light skin who favore4d white lingerie including corsets…lots and lots of them in fact. All in varying shades of white. It was that sadistic pricks mission in life to stain them with cum, her tears, smeared make up and whatever else he could every change he got.

…of course there are more including a few other bloggers who are etched into my mind (and fantasies) from corset based exploits, pictures, and encounters.


Corsets for Corsets Sake the Beauty Beyond the Bodies

Particular women aside I really do love the way a corset looks. For me a lot of kink is intention and while I know they are often used to portray Domme types on the net. Not being my kink or orientation yeah for them I guess it works…right? That portrayal aside I find them incredibly sexy and adaptable to every erotic situation for just hot sex to a woman bottoming in kink play, to a night out and turning heads at a club or party of any sort.

So with the intention piece cared for there is the sacrifice that one makes when wearing one, the restriction of movement but beyond that a beautiful corset would catch my eye even when not on a person. In a way so many of them are art in and of themselves.  Bonded, adorned, and highly detailed i can admire them but they are so much better on a person.


Click the Heels and See the other Kinkster’s Thoughts on Corsets.

Kink of the Week

A Weekend in a World Away

No kink, very few sex references, and a lot of relationship stuff. It’s a recap and a reprocessing for me because as you know if you read me very often one of my main sports is tearing myself apart to understand what makes me tick.  If you’re interested in the mundane inner workings of my emotions (or are in some type of relationship with me) then great please keep reading.  If not no worries I’ll get back to writing about actual sex and not feelings or relationships in the next post.


–          Mal


Late last week the Blonde and I went away for a few days, not far really only about 40 minutes from the house but it was like we were in a different world.   Frankly one I liked a lot better.  As an added bonus we left behind the kids who ending up watching their grand ma (not a shock).

Going in even though it was our 21st wedding anniversary I wasn’t sure what to expect.  The Blonde had planned it all and I had absolutely zero details.  Being a control freak with trust issues I did my best to just roll with it, I knew she would have it all figured out and it would be fine so no need to press the matter.  Her one stated agenda was to get me drunk.  Given I don’t drink much anymore it wouldn’t take much.   That however that didn’t aid the packing process since I had no clue what I would need.  Moving beyond the logistics in the back of my mind was the question of whether or not we could still actually function as a couple like we used to.  Hell did we even still like each other without the noise of other demands.  It sounds silly to say but honestly I wasn’t sure.  I knew we get along, I knew I loved her, but I really hadn’t felt like we were connected beyond day to day operations on any level in quite a while.  So I had shut down, with drawn and was just letting things run in a way that worked for everyone else but not me.   Doing things for the great good simply sucks.

In a lot of ways though I got to do things this weekend that I have needed or wanted to do for a long time, her goal was to get me to have a few drinks and relax.  I suck at relaxing but it worked and I did.   Along the way I learned she is happy being married and monogamous…well all righty then let that sink in for a second or two.   Ok now moving right along.  It led to some interesting and good conversation.

A Crane visible from the top of a parking garage in U CityBecause I’m OCD calendar boy and frankly am a fucking asshole if I don’t get to eat the topic of lunch came up late Friday morning.  One would think that hitting a friend up on twitter for the names of the places you’d talked to her about wouldn’t lead to anything more than a good lunch.  It was a great lunch, the drinks were creative, the food top notch, and the crowd well heeled, urban, and artsy… which is a setting I feel at home in.   As we parked on a roof top of a parking garage I spotted a crane a block away which led to me taking a picture to send to my friend for a scavenger hunt she was trying to do while we were at Eroticon.   This opened the flood gates at lunch and much of the remainder of the day became a conversation about my writing (which she apparently hadn’t even looked at in years), what it takes to be in a scavenger hunt (she showed more interest participating in front of the camera than I’d have ever assumed), plus a show and tell of who I read, who I recently met, and why I like their stuff on and off for the rest of the day.  Most of it wasn’t really new ground except that she was engaged and listening in a different way, a good way.  In the next breath was a ground breaking statement.   For the first time she asked real questions about my “other” friends.  Not things out of common courtesy and passing questions like “did you have fun, or how are they doing” but real ones wanting to understand relationships, situations, and in many ways my connection to them.  It is something that I’m always trying to share with her so often without success.

The Blonde has never gone to events with me; I ask, she says no, and I determine whether or not I want to go anyhow and plan accordingly. Sometimes it irritates me, things like I cannot learn to do suspension bondage without a partner and more importantly I want her to be that partner.  Most often it is a non issue. I know that my needs and interests are different than hers.  Sure on some level I want to be able to share them with her and get more than “oh that’s nice” but I really do try to respect that boundary.

A drink from over under on Washington Ave in St. LouisThen it came out of nowhere “I’d really like to meet her” from nothing more than a passing comment about be sure to give her a kiss for the lunch recommendation.  Those 5 words might not seem ground breaking but they were a first. Of course there were caveats that followed “not at an event or conference, Vanilla expectations, etc.” but she was interested and wanted to get to know this other person I’ve been talking so much about. The Blonde added “We should have drinks; actually she and I can have drinks you can be the designated driver.”   It’s a role I do very well and was fine with it.

This was more than I really hoped for, ever actually, a willingness to step into that other part of my world, the one where I really do spend so much of my time and live a huge part of my life.   The flood gates opened.  We talked about having Alice, LR and maybe even their boys come to town to meet our girls.  How I worry about them on a variety of levels, and how great it has been for me to have the relationships I do with each of them and what it’s done for this site which is my labor of love.  We talked about how I’ve stopped writing erotica and porn except here and why it’s not really a fit for me and my style (my stories aren’t really very dirty in a main stream kind of way).  Sure there were things in there about her and her friends and about the kids but a lot of it was conversation about us for the first time in a while.

In the afternoon we walked though a part of the city filled with lofts, I looked for smaller empty buildings I could buy and convert into a home, she mused on whether it would be better to live in another part of town rather that this section “ I like the Central West End, and Tower Grove better”.  We ducked in and out of bars and I had a few more drinks. We talked some more, about upcoming trips back east, about my career direction, about our friends.  I even got to discuss rope and kink a little in very plain language.  No pressure, judgment, or pretext.   Eventually we’d head back to the hotel where I took to our old cruise ship routine of napping a bit before a late dinner and an even later night out.

Now she was in her element, hair done, make up perfect, jeans hugging all the right spots and I was the one in tow.  She took me to the places she had talked about so many times, the places she went on her girl’s weekends with other friends, places I had never been and would never have thought to have gone.   It was a peek into what she liked, enjoyed, and shared with others much like I had done earlier.  Dinner at one place (an Angry Shrimp Po Boy), a stop in the casino (which is no longer non smoking so it was a very short stop), a few hours in a favorite watering hole of hers where we each tried 12 different shot sized cocktails with creative names like Pink Pussy, Lick my Banana, and Bend Her Over.  We watched the young waitresses bounce, grinds, dance, and carry on with one and other occasionally sending pictures of drinks to her friends that she had been there with before.  I learned things about her I never knew.  It was great fun, we connected, and most importantly we still worked as a functioning unit without other distractions to hide behind.  I was just happy to be there, in the moment, and to she her enjoying herself without distraction.  A few more stops and a few more drinks (26 different ones in the course of the day) it was like I was my old college years self again, out and social and not burdened by the demands of my profession and others for my time.

A Mint Chip MartiniEventually we made our way back to the hotel to be alone, these were not moments I wanted to rush or bring to an end. I was both very giving and completely selfish at the same time.  The next morning started too early and I left the room to let her sleep a while longer.  I hugged my coffee and just sat back and watched the people pass by as I reflected.   Worried that once we got back in the car and headed west that in a matter of days if not hours we’d drift back into the same routine as before the weekend began.  After lunch this time she napped and I mowed the lawn, did a little work, and got ready for the family to head out for the night.


In the end we decided something we’ve need to for quite a while and that is to move at the end of next year whether a career change forces it or not.  We’ve not decided where but a more urban lifestyle surrounded by more things and different types of people is something we both desperately need.  Odds are it means out of state.  She has family here, I don’t so it’s another concern to address in the future.  In the mean time the two of us looked at options to get out more, events we could both enjoy and without the kids, and began planning to have drinks with my friend in the coming weeks.

Is everything perfect? No but it never really is and there are still a lot of things that we need to sort out (aging parents, kids school, kink stuff, more time for us as a couple on a regular basis) but it’s a lot better at least in my head than it was 96 hours ago.  Over all I’m in a much happier place. Never let it be said that enough good sex, alcohol, and a few days can’t make the world a better place.

Tickling Her Fancy

I realized after writing this that it offers a more intimate look at my relationship with the Blonde than I typically share.  Well that and for kink of the week this time around I’m not very kinky.  Consider yourself warned.


With a crazy and also very exciting week ahead of me (in just a few days I’ll be at Eroticon USA)  I’ve decided to take on Kink of the Week early this time around and the topic is Tickling in case the title didn’t give it away.  Now if you looked on any fetish list I’ve ever filled out I don’t think ticking has shown up.   Hell it’s not something I’d ever even written about.  

However if I push aside the cheesy 80’s porno scenario of having someone tied to an office chair and another person or group of people wielding a feather duster and look at it as not a fetish like so many other things are in my world but instead focus on tickling as mere a part of non kink play it takes on a much bigger role. 

I recall reading somewhere that being ticklish changes with age, that is was believed to be something experienced by a young woman when a touch may become inappropriate during a courtship.  No wonder that America’s sexuality is fucked up.  Really who comes up with this shit?

And certainly while not all tickling is sexual my experience is that at least in my case it served a purpose while in youthful relationships of being both teasing and in a way a physical outlet when more overtly sexual activities were not an option.  However even later on in a more direct and open way.  

The first toys the Chesty Blonde ever bought for herself at a Porn shop were a series of long and exotically colored feathers.  You’ve seen them; the long ostrich looking ones in purple or blue, whimsical bright greens, hues of red and burgundy that look almost weightless as their falls dangle and all the other types sold around the web.    There were two lessons there 1) I needed to be more specific if I gave her the instruction that she had to buy herself X number of toys before being allowed to leave.  I expected her to come out with the teeth chattering giant hung like a horse vibrator from hell. Because that’s what I thought she’d want.  Not because she ever indicated that but because I’m a dumb man. 2) I should probably ignore number one because her selections taught me more about what she wanted physically and emotionally than anything I wanted her to buy. 

If you asked her (and I have) if she likes to be tickled she would emphatically tell you no.   With reasons ranging from “I simply hate it”, to “my brother ruined it for the rest of us because he was merciless” when they were young, to “I just don’t”.  Then why the hell did she buy those exotic feathers all those years ago and so many more in the years since?  Does she tickle me?   No on that one.   I’m not ticklish and never have been.  Maybe that should be a follow up post “why I can’t relax Version 817”.

 The truth of the answer lies in that area in between her words and actions.  What she means when she said that she doesn’t to be tickled as I’ve learned over the years is she does not like it to be in a way that makes her squirm and ball up, laugh uncontrollably, or lose her breath.  No need for a safe word the panic attack or anger makes it pretty clear.  So no torture scenes though a few times over the years after she’s had particularly intense series of orgasms everything tickles and I may have pushed that boundary a little bit.  Look I respect boundaries but when the cards are on the table I’m still that jerk off 12 year old boy deep down and can’t resist pushing those buttons just a little from time to time.  Maybe it’s rooted in the innocent flirtation of youth, maybe it’s because I’m a complete dick, or because sometime it’s ok to push just a little.  Say “Stop It” and fight back and wrestle enough and eventually I’ll quit and leave you alone; after I’ve had my fill.   Safeword and I’m done, even when simply being playful there is line that cannot be crossed.

So where do the feathers come in?  After all in every picture I’ve taken of the toy drawers by my bed the ropes and paddles are mine.   She claims the vibes are my toys and “I just use them on her for my own amusement”.   Yep she’s a funny one.   But the feathers she calls hers and they are usually in frame and never that far out of it in toy drawer pictures.

You see they are sensation play.  Sure the sensations are different than the impact play I tend toward, or  the S&M torture scenes described by Jade in her overview of the topic.  There is no Ds dynamic or even inclination.  Early my marriage to the Blonde it became a way for her to be naked with me for extended periods of time, without overt sexual contact or tension.  Something that allowed her to relax and connect as the feathers were slowly tracing the length of her legs, across her back, face, breasts, and elsewhere and yes occasionally I’d flip it around around and whack her on the butt a few times with the handle.   And she’s protest mockingly at the pathetic makeshift cane “hurting”, so of course I’d swat her again.   All the while it was light hearted and was very much part of our routine, a regular activity and not only something she enjoyed but something that really turned her on.   It was sensual and slow, she knew she had my undivided attention which is often hard to come by, occasionally just silence filled the air.  Other times we talked about things going on in our lives or silly things that didn’t matter at all.   In the end it simply slowed us down and would give us quality time together.  Unlike other activities it didn’t lead to wild and hungry sex but something soft, gentle, and slow.

As so often I like to say “it’s not my kink” and this would be one of those.  Yet it’s something I did when asked, and offered to do of my own accord for years.   What was in it for me? Well her naked for starters, usually pretty amazing sex a little later, and most important of all she truly enjoyed it and had no problem with asking for me to get the feathers out.  Not everyone is comfortable in their own skin, in their own sexuality, or with their own bodies.  It gave her a way to be more of all of those things and that is what really worked for me because I enjoyed seeing her enjoy it.

Kink of the Week

A Sunday in the City

First off I’m a bit old fashioned if you asked the Chesty Blonde we went in “to the city” meaning St. Louis but to me the city has always been Manhattan. For the sake of the title I’ve violated the rule that if I’m in the “the city” it means NY. Moving right along. 

I don’t know why I take vacation days but I do.  Often they’re more work than work and work never stops calling anyway.  I had delusions of sleeping in, lounging around naked, extra coffee and lots of sex.   Boy am I fucking stupid.  You’d think I’d learn. On the upside it had been a year since I made the mistake last time so maybe just maybe I’m getting a little brighter. 

Instead of any of those things I hoped for it became dealing with car repairs, broken garage doors (not related to car repairs.) Kids underfoot (they are 14 & 19 so I’m constantly mystified why they are ever at home unless forced to be), a case of food poisoning for the entire family (high end eateries make me sick more often than greasy spoons) and a variety of other things like missed long runs and bike rides due to Missouri being  142 degrees hotter than the 6th circle of hell.  Finally along came Sunday morning and as everyone was laying  around the house the Blonde and I got the bright idea to go into South City; a part of St. Louis known for antique shops, the Brewery, etc.

Our first stop Shameless Grounds.  It was her idea.  Hell might have just frozen over.  What can I say we’re both coffee junkies? Then because we had no agenda we looked at a few (roughly 10) open houses in that and a few other area’s as we discussed whether or not we’re ready to go back to city life, either here or elsewhere.  I wanted to call to find out how much a catholic church with a “For Sale” sign was going for and maybe convert it a private residence.   That was discouraged both for budgetary reasons as well as my plan to call it “Dante’s Purgatory” if converted in to a residence. As a point of interest I refer to my current house a Chateau D’If the island prison from the Count of Monte Cristo. The Blonde hates that I view it as place of little hope. If the suburb fits …however back to the topic at hand

The best part of the trip was without a doubt when we were standing in a fully restored late 1800’s home and the 30ish tall Blond, good looking, and seemingly very traditional looking real estate agent asked if we were there because of a breakfast place nearby.  The Chesty Blonde didn’t even flinch “No we just wanted some time in the city and he likes to support Shameless whenever he’s nearby.”   The fellow knew where she meant and maybe didn’t approve or know how to react.   So guess who won’t be my agent if we do get serious?   Not his fault and the beauty of it was it was genuine and harmless on TCB’s part.   On the upside next time we’ll plan for brunch

Moving into another part of town our open house tour continued.  On one block there was a pride flag flying on the front porch of all but 3 houses on the street.  It caught me off guard, not that it was a problem.  It’s none of my business who and how you like to have sex unless I’m part of the equation but after being surrounded by right wing bible thumpers in the burbs for a decade it was a refreshing change. 

I knew the part of town we were in had a large Gay population due to the fact several of my same sex oriented friends live around there. Still I had no idea it was so prevalent; which reminds me to call those fellows and ask if those were actually pride flags or some fucked up block identity thing.  If it is someone has a great sense of humor.  Now I just need to find a street with leather pride flags on almost every house and I’d be pretty close to all set.  Too bad the rope flag thing never really caught on that would be probably be the best fit unless a spanko flag happened to become popular.  Where do I live?  On the corner of Rope Freak and Spanko way.  How about you? But back to reality…

Most of the places were nice, remodeled already and far too small for us.  It was the first time in quite a while that she and I got to get away from everyone else.  Sure she scoffed at me when I asked if she wanted to go to a Damsel in Distress style bondage class next week weekend.   And there still isn’t an answer on if she’s even going to go to Eroticon USA; that answer came over lunch today and she’s a no go. Still it was a nice change for a few hours and we were almost a “normal” functioning couple again at least until we got back to the burbs.

It dawned on me as we rode down a street that looked like a flat lander’s version of the street where the generations old Malflic family homestead back east sits that my life until moving here always involved a city.  As a toddler I was taking street cars with my grandparents all over town, even though from age 6-18 my home was  40 minutes from the city I went to school there a good percentage of the time(not good for ones social life though), I worked in a downtown section until moving here, and spent many weekends roaming the streets and sleeping in hotels.  Perhaps it is time to call it a day on a number of things and living on the edge of the world might just be one of them and at the top of the list.