Hell Bent For Leather

Once upon a time there was a skinny misfit kid with a bad crew cut from outside a declining industrial city, no real friends, and a black leather jacket his grandparents got him for Christmas one year.   He was always getting in to fights, was too stupid to know when to back down, and in general was a pretty miserable mean little fucker.   Yes it sounds like some cliché teen movie, but in this case no future movie star or heartwarming tale came from the setting. Instead what it produced was me, whether or not I’m damaged is still open to debate on every level.   The one hard luck element I was missing was I had a great home life.  

When I saw that Jade had picked “Leather” as the Kink of the Week topic my cynical old heart didn’t go to sex, kink, or anything of the sort.  Oh sure it would have been easy enough to not be honest about what I thought of and instead talk about cuffs, paddles, floggers, and leather belts.   After all it’s supposed to be about kink right?  No one would have thought any less of me.  Those toys I know a thing or two about and perhaps even own.  Instead though the first thing I thought of was my misguided youth and how leather, in particular black leather played a big part of who I am, who my friends were & are.  In short my very identity beyond my kinks. 

It started with that jacket when I hit double digits, Yep the 4th grade was a big year for me.  My first leather jacket, I bought the Dirty Deeds album by AC DC at the mall, and met my friend Bobby who was in true Hollywood movie story line fashion one of two new kids at school.   I liked Bobby and we’re still friends to this day, both of us only slightly more acceptable outcasts than we were then.  The difference is we don’t give a fuck.  In truth I’m not sure he ever did.

   Soon enough the bands I liked were all dressed in leather.   Not the late 80’s assault of stupid colors like purple, green, yellow, and orange but good old basic black with the occasional bit of red.   So while all the cool kids were riding around on Yamaha dirt bikes in brightly colored motor cross wear and listening to Duran Duran or the latest pop sensation I was riding an early 70’s Harley / AMC abomination on trails and the road (Illegally – no license, etc); when it was running and listening to Priest, Sabbath, Ozzy, Maiden, Motor Head, and eventually some American metal.  

Looking back it was predictable that similar tastes in music and clothes would create friendships.  Now it might be considered a sub culture, then it was just a group of other odd ducks who didn’t care you were different.  

Thus began my long romance with leather.

As a child of the 80’s I thought nothing of excess. Seriously who didn’t drink hard, sleep around, and have friends who were always a mile high?  Oh that wasn’t normal?   Well then moving right along.  Honestly I can’t recall dating a girl whether a Gear Head, a Rocker, Dancer, or even a Cheerleader who didn’t wear leather skirts and pants.  Big hair, loud, fast, and leather clad from early on it’s how I liked my music and my girlfriends.  I was no stranger to the textile long before kink, as a grade school kid I wore the hell out of that leather biker jacket that eventually gave way to a full length leather trench coat, leather waist coats, and more modern motor cycle jackets.  Bobby’s older cousin Missy a hard core punk type who spent far too many late nights in the clubs around town lived in black leather and safety pins, her style and blatant sexuality had an effect on me.   And I’ve written about Tracy enough already. 

In context of BDSM a girlfriend gave me my first pair of leather pants.  By then I had moved beyond BJ’s and Sex in the back seat of a car.   Yes in the lexicon and context of “traditional” leather culture it didn’t make me leather and I had no right to wear them. Of course I didn’t know shit about leather culture, there was no internet back then and all my heroes; musicians, outlaws, and mobsters wore black leather.   

And while the future soccer moms of my generation were buying their mini-skirts, and pants in Wilson’s and Hornes (a long gone department store) at the mall my later girlfriends were buying leather teddies because they were hot never thinking there was anything more to it than it made them feel sexy.  What the fuck was fetish wear?  I had no clue I just knew what I liked.   Of course I was shopping in Biker, Krishna, or Army Navy Stores buying whatever I could find that was different, black and adorned with metal.  A trip to NYC was like going to Mecca because of the selection of styles and cuts but my best finds ever were in the Canadian City of Hamilton.  It was like leather heaven at the time.

The fact remains that even though I have a closet full of suits it’s still black leather that I use to define myself, though these days most often it’s in the form of dress shoes.   When all my preppie business friends were tooling around in brown leather bomber jackets back in the 90’s I was wearing a leather trench or tattered black leather waist coat. Before military style boots once again became all the rage for the young and fashionable I was still stomping around in them because their style and black polished skin meant something more to me even if no one else got it.

Looking at who I stayed in touch with over the decades; it’s not the team mates, summer camp roomies, or even kids from the neighborhood.  Nope, it’s the misfits, long haired, freak shows.  It’s my old leather crowd, the guys and girls I got kicked out of places with for being nothing more than different.  The one McDonald’s refused to serve becuase of our looks even though we had shirts and shoes on.   The ones with the crazy dyed hair before you saw it on kids in suburbia and the ones who piercings when that was thought of as something only bikers, gays, and psycho paths did.  
Oh and for the record most of us turned out ok, some (or most) of us even lead fairly normal respectable lives.  Still when I run into them occasionally or my phone rings even after years of being apart because of what we shared once upon a time usually there’s an instant connection.   A sense of community, then again even in the context of kink isn’t that what being leather is really all about, a group to belong to, having a special sense of community?
Kink of the Week


A New Flavor of Kink on Malflic as I Extend a Belated Welcome to Lord Raven

If you want the pure announcement part just don’t read the Italics
Insert your typical over hyped dramatic baritone voice while reading this.
Once upon a time, in a public dungeon far, far away but not too far and not quite in East Butt Fuck Jersey but awfully close to such a place there was an inter galactic show down next to the St Andrews cross sent to the American kink community in 969 AD for safe keeping by the Scottish king Leatherband in order to see who was the domliest, dom who ever was domly…or something like that. The battled raged on for millenniums or at least 2 or three consecutive scenes and then…Dropping the stupid announcer voice (unless of course you get off on that kind of thing) OK I’m done being a sci fi geek back to the point at hand.
Sexy Storm Trooper Please join me in welcoming Lord Raven to the site as a regular contributor. LR comes from a diverse kink back ground and took a somewhat more traditional route than many of us myself included into the kink community.  He began as a member of a house and transitioned both his interests and role over time.  LR offers you his skills as a talented writer but also  brings new kink based  interests and style of play to Malflic.com that are quite varied from my own.   I hope our readers will enjoy, learn from, and if the itch needs scratched maybe even try some new things. Some of LR’s proclivities include blade play, fire, needles, wresting, and of course the nearly requisite S&M trinity of flogging, whipping, and bondage.  He currently has one collared Submissive (Yeah I capitalized submissive, Yes I caught it in the proofing stage but thought it would be fun to leave with a capital S for all the grammar fetish types have something to freak out over a little)
His first piece So You Want to Know What it Is to be a Dom or At Least My Version of a Dom can already be found on the site and shortly his own featured category will be added to the home page.  I expect he’ll also be contributing from time to time to the He Said, She Said Series and the Wild Life categories.  In exchange he promised not to out me to the leather police and let me keep my pants despite a somewhat irreverent approach to the life style.  All Kidding aside We’re flattered to have him and hope you love his work.

Rope Bondage Hemp vs. MFP

Rope Bondage Hemp vs. MFP.  As of 2016 the audio has been lost to time and a bad filing system. And of course changes in web hosts over the years Here is the test as originally transcribed.  and if i ever locate to hold audio i will add it baclk in as well.


Show Notes Rope Bondage Hemp vs. MFP

Hemp vs MFP Rope Bondage Pod Cast ArtMalflic once again finds a reason to get out his rope bag and pseudo justify buying more new rope that he actually doesn’t need.  Still he convinces the Chesty Blonde to play along as he tried to answer the question for the ages when it comes to bondage…Hemp vs. MFP rope.  It’s more fun than science as he reviews six tied he conducted on his willing partner and the perceived differences that natural fiber rope gave him as the rigger  and the Blonde as the stunt bunny DuJour .  Over time Malflic who is only human became distracted by his sexy partner who was set on seducing him into non bondage related actives before he eventually tells of how he introduced a series of nibbles, kisses, pinches and smacks into to the process along with nipple clamps and sex toys.
Intro The Chesty Blonde
Welcome Back to Exercising My Demons.  I’m the Chesty Blonde and today not only am I the hostess of this episode but I was also the stunt bunny used in the “research portion” .
Malfic’s ask me to do a lot of different things over the years but anything that starts with the question naked or clothed before he explains what he’s planning to do still sets off more than a few  alarms.   As a matter of fact Mal has me tied to a chair right now in the name of “artistic integrity”.  On the upside he let me keep my heels on and was nice enough to close the blinds and turn up the heat in so it could be worse.   As most of you know we’re pretty “nontraditional” I’m not June Cleaver and well he’s certainly no Ward; unless Ward was a closet deviant. Around here it shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone that the topic of traditional Shibari   ties the kind Midori  Teaches are put up against the benefits of 2 Knotty Boys fusion style with bondage is just the kind of thing his dirty mind would obsess over.   Me I’d rather obsess over J.D.
Then of course there is the debate of Hemp vs. MFP rope. Which is what he tries to answer in the episode, with my help of course.  So sit back, relax, (sarcastically) assuming you’re not tied to a chair at this very moment that is.  & Let your imagination run wild and so we begin…Rope Bondage Natural Hemp vs. Synthetic MFP
I thought of calling this “confessions of a rope addict” or of placing an ad that read “Bondage Bunnies wanted for a semi scientific rope experiment”.  After all what kind of man has his favorite rope vendor on speed dial on both his cell phones, skype and his the office desk set?
Of course with all the crazy things that have been happening to people on Craig’s list with my luck an add that read “Assortment of Stunt Bunnies wanted for semi scientific wanted for bondage story and possible pictorial” There is always the morality police or real police running a sting operation but since its wasn’t for sex and I’m sure as hell not paying someone so I can tie them up the second concern was I’d end up with a litany of responses from 450 pound cross dressers interested in suspension work which might be more of an issue because I have no interest or idea how to tie around a guys stuff even if its tucked and well I don’t do suspension work.   With that in mind I thought it best to work within the confines of the folks I know.  Enter my standard quasi interested but willing to put up with me stunt Bunny DuJour and partner the Chesty Blonde.
Like so many things in my life the latest quest started when I went off to one of my all time favorite sites on the internet, in this case it was twistedmonk.com.    So what is a rope guy with a few extra bucks in his pocket going to do…order a bunch of new rope under the guises of wanting to finally answer definitively and for all the ages the pressing question of hemp vs. mfp.
Well that and there is something about ordering a product with the name Statutory Grape that just makes me smile!  This time was going to be different, it was an experiment so why not really get wild and change a few things around so I headed toward pretty kitty pink for a bit of color diversity but sadly they were out.
So after the panic subsided and a quick call to assess the inventory situation I got a pleasant answer from the nice guy picked up the phone who said it would be a while and in my opinion potentially worse yet it might be going the way of green.  I scurried off to asses my options and settled in on what other than sex and violet, a bright, shocking, vivid color.  Perfect and I could only imagine how great it would look next to or tied around black leather.  After all I have enough black rope to last a lifetime and well I’m just not that into red even on sports cars. Now don’t get me wrong I dig red latex and that same color in lingerie is fine but when it comes to sports cars and rope…well just not my flavor.  White hemp would be unheard of and I’ve got a enough issues in life without bringing cotton or an exotic type fiber into the mix.   Besides I have enough white mfp procured over the years from the local dom depot to dock the pacific fleet.   (Clears throat) and Ahem mine isn’t all moldy from sitting outside in the rain.
A box shows up at the house about 10 days later.  Of course I wasn’t here and I arrived home myself a few days later after an extremely long day on two overcrowded amateur traveler filled excessively late flying penis.  I walk in the door soon after sorting through the small of packages and mail that arrive for me.   There it is my box filled with new rope!   Who knew I could love a generic USPS box so much before even opening it.  I ran off to another room to tear it open and admire that wonderful color.
Well now it was officially on! Time to uncoil and get to work.
So the goal was pretty simple to do the same six ties with both kinds of rope.  Starting off with a simple body harness tied with a series of overhand knots.  Then a straight forward chest harness, and since well she is chesty and I’m especially partial to her tits in a Japanese pearl tie that I would abandon mid experiment and exchange for something all together different.    What good is rope if you can’t every so often tie someone to the bed post so why not a one column tie.  I did have a lover years ago who like to be tied to the radiator in her apartment, when it wasn’t on of course.  She never strained against the ropes but really just got off on the whole thing and her body position.  Maybe that’s a story for another time.
Being a bit of an avid reader this little experiment also gave me the perfect opportunity to put one of my new books into action and try out the consequences tie from the two knotty boys new book and then a little chair bondage because well nothing like having her on hers knees, bound to a chair and completely at my mercy.
So as she said I started with Naked or clothed?  She chose clothed to start which was a bit of a drag but gave me another goal of getting her naked throughout our little adventure.  After FINALLY getting her to go along with the plan we began.
First up, the Body Harness with hemp so while looking into her eyes I uncoiled my choice color of the moment and began running the rope through my hands to get a feel for the rope while  in an attempt to make a connection with both the fibers and my partner.   The only Naughty thing was the Chesty Blonde so it was time to start.
Finding the ends and then measuring off to center of it finally I was going to start adorning her sexy frame after entirely too much waiting.  Placing the rope with the center loop on her upper back  and the length dangling tauntingly across her tits the first overhand knot was tied just above her breasts. The second just below those luscious but still covered tits.  Then another knot at her upper stomach, mid belly, and just below the waist.
Until this point she was humoring me and I faced a decision on whether or not to tie another knot or two in strategic places as the ropes underneath her and start back up across that shapely ass that I love to smack oh so much.  You could tell she knew what I was thinking but lacking a specific opinion waited as I opted not to add the additional knots between her legs.  After all this was about the rope itself and not just adding extra stimulation to her kitty quite yet.  I did add an overhand knot at the top of her ass cheeks most to keep the ropes between together as I worked the other parts of the tie.
So up and under the loop on the back of her neck where it all started and then I started.  Around the ribcage and over her breasts, then around her torso.  With each pass the loose ropes started to ever so slowly with each pass her get tighter against her body.  Oh how I love those diamonds crisscrossing her body.  Finally tying off the realization hit me that I had no clue what to do now.  One tie down 11 more to go so after leaving things in place for just few minutes I decided to unwrap her.
Slowly untying it was time to repeat the same process with the MFP which in this case was a lovely shade of midnight blue.  It was a slight contrast against her dark t shirt but trust me is stunning against her bare skin.  Still I wasn’t able to talk her out of her clothes quite yet, it was not time to abandon hope besides this way it would offer a an equal experience to the hemp.
Front knots in place, lines run playfully over her kitty and up her curvy backside it was time to start on the front.  Up and over her chest…maybe I stopped for a moment or two to handle them a little and share a few nipple pinches.  And over and under snugging things up nicely.  Ahh not quite wrapped up and tied tight like bulging cupcakes but still damn nice. Around her torso, across her waist and then there we were tied up nice and tight.
Here’s where my science was off a little bit I was using 6mm hemp and I was using the equivalent of 8mm synthetic rope. Which translates for those of us in the states to about  5/16ths.  You know there is a difference the minute you run the ropes through your hands and the Chesty Blonde when asked said she could feel the difference on her entire body but the main thing was where the rope passed between her legs.   Made perfect sense to me but that really didn’t help determine if the material was the cause of the sensation change or if it was the thickness.
As a little princess told me once it’s not all about length, girth really does matter.  She wasn’t talking about rope necessarily  but still the analogy works, length and girth always matter.
Never one to be deterred by a little resistance or the facts I figured she’s still standing there and I’ve still got rope so why not proceed.  After talking her out of her shirt, but not her bra the tease and I continued to our old favorite the chest harness which is where it all began with rope for the two of us.
Since MFP was close by off we went with bight in the back just off center and my first pass of ropes went over the top of her breasts.  A moment later she had them cupped in her own hands and in  a way I was jealous but a decision needed to be made and there would be plenty of time for holding and fondling just a little later. Around and back under those luscious mounds again this time the top line in my pass found itself lying just under where boobs meet rib cage.  Perfect!  Now back around and again across the top with a pass, to the back now over the shoulder, mmm she does have sexy shoulders too.  A little nibble on her neck and then back down between under the top ropes and inside of her left breast passing through the rope at the bottom, giving a slight upward pull before crossing them over the previous pass and up the inside of her right tit. Over the shoulder and tied off in back.
Here are two important facts one which you probably don’t know about me and the other which is if nothing else fairly predictable.   The first is as a child is was completely  ambidextrous, sure the world tried to force me to be right handed but it never really worked and a lot of time I find myself tying things backwards.  It’s the same tie but done with the opposite hand than most people.  Sometimes things go right to left and other times things go left to right.  Shit happens and its all the same when its done but on occasion when learning knots it’s made things more challenging.   The second thing is when tying of from behind and someone starts rubbing her sexy ass into my crotch I can become distracted. Insert nibbles kisses and pinches all with me behind her.
Moving right along after a slightly drawn out untying period it was time to more onto the hemp.  This one followed the exact same process; more or less.  After all I was only human and well a little more kissing and petting was in order as I took my good old time getting things into place.  The girl knows me well and she knew if she kept rubbing her ass on my ever hardening dick sooner or later it wasn’t the ropes that would end up somewhere.
So with a still bra clad nipple pinched between each index finger and thumb. Wiggling ass thrust against my crotch I asked if she could feel the difference.  She Purred and  pressed  into me a little more.  You see this is the moment where had someone not decided to keep their shorts on it would have been game over.  Rope? What Rope?  But since she had I just took a hold of the chest harness gave it a little tug and started untying it unclipping her bar in the process.
Bare breasts, warm flesh, and I’d bet wet panties  I turned her to face me, pulled her close and slowly assed every single inch of that rope over her body as I found the middle again and decided to take a slightly different path than I had intended heading into the corselet tie.  There’s a great video on the two knotty boys site showing how it’s done and it’s also in their second book.  Three things I learned on this one.  First 6mm was way too thin to have the visual effect I wanted both in the wraps around her torso and in the knot above the those beautiful breast and glistening nipples.  Which leads me to my second point; there is something really special about mixing one moaning sex pot, the smell of hemp rope, and an erect nipple between your teeth that you just might be flicking with your tongue the same time.
Hardcore bondage this was not, damn hot foreplay however is always fine by me so with the two of us lingering with this tie on while we distracted each other just a little eventually I decided it was time for the current set of strings to come off and after admiring the beautiful lines they had left on her skin I went digging into the rope bag for a niche big thick long piece of white mfp.  I how think?  Well I don’t know for sure.  Let’s just say I went back the afore mentioned princess’ comment about girth and this one was damn thick.
Off I went again mixing my tying with fondling, nibbling and pinching at one point having her hold the ropes in her teeth while helping a few parts of her anatomy with my hands and mouth before finishing up the tie.   I did get lazy for a second tying an over hand knot at the top of her breasts but quickly undid it and went to the double coin knot to finish up.
Leaving everything in place I helped her out of her shorts as she moved her hips from side to side but left a pair of thin powder blue string bikini panties on her.  After all this was to answer an important question and I had so much more planned.  So on to the consequences tie which frankly I had never done before.  In no way am I an innovator so I studied hard before trying this one and while not everything was as neat and perfect as I imagined going in it worked just fine and my natural inclination to swat her on the ass added a little extra dimension to it.  With everything in place and the Blonde at this point well bound I decided to give her a smack or two, each time she moved her legs it added or released the tension on the rope that was run right between the center of her legs.  It gave me the idea to use this on someone during a long spanking at some point to see how it worked.  Volunteers are welcome! The Blonde isn’t the type to ever tell my “hey come here and smack my ass a little extra would you”  not that she needs to either that part of her gets plenty of attention from me both wicked and very nice.
With a little pink in her cheeks, a  moist rope on her clit and parting her lips I just enjoyed the site for a few minutes before removing the ropes.  At this point science was about to be abandoned and I was about to move on to more carnal desires but with so much rope on hand no need to leave it out.
So a few moments later my partner found herself on her knees on a very solid chair with nice thick arms.     Almost there so binding her legs at the knee on each side of the chair with lower back arched so beautifully, ass pushed out I took a moment to add a modified single column tie to bound both of her arms to the corresponding chair arm.  Then tie off the still on corselet on her upper body I tied above and below the double coin knot to keep her upper body downward.  Was it tecxt book, nope.  But it did what I needed safely and securely Now came a little play time.  Those lovely d cups just hanging there looked like they were begging for a set of tight clamps that were met with a little whimper and then a series of moans as I continued to toy with them.
Add some teasing with a vibe over the panties but all over her clit had her ass wiggling as I stood to the side and watch playing with varying amounts of pressure and toy speed getting her so far along before taking it away and adding a few crisp smacks.    Then beginning again, tied and teased would be a very fitting description but she didn’t seem to mind “suffering”.
One shouldn’t play with rope without a set of EMT shears near by and we observed that rule.  You never know when you might need to cut your partner loose suddenly.  They also come in very handy for putting a little cold metal against nice warm red skin and eventually nipping a little hole in the back of her panties to allow access to whatever might suit your purpose at that moment.
As each little snip happened one after another eventually leaving her fully exposed to me  all other resolve was lost.  The rest I’ll leave to your imagination because neither of us or our toy bags are telling.
Outro   The Chesty Blonde
Well hello again!  I’d have been back sooner but I’m still a little tied up.  I’m not sure we’ve answered anything but it sure was fun trying.   Like what you’ve heard ?  Well then be sure to subscribe.  We’re in all your favorite podcast directories and even in the podcast section of I tunes under  Malflic.  Then run off hurry up and tell all your kinky friends about us too!   Have an idea or opinion drop us a line at show at malflic.com.
As always thanks for listening to Exercising my demons and until next time have fun being sexy & adventurous. I’m off to wiggle loose so I can stop him from putting suspension hardware in our bedroom Ceiling. This Chesty Blonde has no intention of flying!

Getting to Know Your Temptress

Getting to Know Your Temptress by Malflic featuring the Chesty Blonde
With all the insanity and recording for kink week and finalizing the lay out for the updated malflic.com It’s been a while since I’ve posted and this little conversation is about two weeks over due. It is simply Malflic and the very sexy Chesty Blonde having a playful and harmless chat in a get to know session.
Ironically it is the first time that the two have recorded in the same room at the same time, well other than that video camera incident years ago. (just kidding don’t go looking for it on U tube)
As always the entire collection podcasts can be found at malflic.libsyn.com and is also listed in iTunes under podcasts and of course it’s free! (Not only am I easy but I’m also cheap)

Make Me

I’ve been a bit long winded of late. So here’s something short, a little different and hopefully intense.  You can find the almost equally quick audio featuring the Chesty Blonde at malflic.libsyn.com  


Click to listen.

Make me notice you from across the room when I have other things on my mind. 

Just like the first time so long ago


Make me remember what it was like in the beginning,

When everything was so intense, overwhelming, and unpredictably wonderful


Make me wonder what you’re thinking,

Thinking that I know, but never being quite certain


Make me move in a way that casts a spell on you,

One that like magic dancing in the night is unbreakable and irresistibly alluring


Make me long for your touch, the warmth of your embrace,

and the endless sensation of your lips against mine


Make me see the look in your eyes,

The one the sees and knows who I truly am


Make me drown in pleasure, pleading endlessly for you to stop,

But desperately wanting it to continue


Make me shudder in ecstasy,

Over and over again on the edge of exhaustion


Make me beg you for more,

To meet my wildest desires


Make me feel complete in absolutely everyway.

Girls night out, innuendo, and another woman in my bed

So many of us shade our sex lives from the light of day.  I’m usually a little different, more open, even an exhibitionist about things but still most often omit damming details and specific events that are best left to the imagination or kept between lovers.

So OK so my subscribe banner is a chest that is attached to a woman that I not only know but also love.  Trust me any part of her is far more interesting than anything I possess.  Ironically I still consider myself more of an ass man than a tit guy.  Anyone who pays attention to what I write knows what I’m into and in this case hopefully the Blonde will forgive me because this is one that I just had to share the details of unaltered, without omissions, and intended to recall it with out any embellishment in the least.  But that wouldn’t really be that funny so I punched it up a bit for effect or laughs but all in all for once it is an accurate depiction of how my mind works.

The black type is the Gospel of what happened on one specific occasion.  The red ink however limited is how I would like to think it went. You know if I was really on my game.

It is if nothing else the quintessential example of the life of Malflic behind the corporate greed, obsession with German cars, occasional distraction by shiny things, distrust of law enforcement, and blood lust for power beats the heart of a man who wants what all men and teenage boys really want at the very core of their beings.  SEX and lots of it preferably but not necessarily with beautiful women!!!!

So on this occasion my very, very beautiful companion has plans that didn’t include me, I’m a big boy I can entertain myself for relatively short periods of time with out the need for supervision.

She comes down stairs in black heels (mmm love her in heels), beautifully curve hugging deep dark blue jeans (you really have no idea what you’re missing), a tight black shirt accentuated by her long flowing locks (there’s good reason I refer to her as my Chesty Blonde), and a genuinely pretty face to top it all off. The kind you really don’t see very often. Add to it that she’s a good soul and a nice kind person and you quickly see why people are wondering what she is doing with my ugly, sarcastic, shallow ass.  Good question but who am I to tempt fate?

I offer to drop her off and pick her up at the end of the night.  No need to worry about a few soda pops if she wanted to imbibe.  She agrees and off we go.  I kill a few hours out and about doing nothing of particular consequence and head home to stare mindlessly at the TV and wait for the phone to ring.

It finally does a little before 10 and another woman is on the line.  Now it’s not another woman in the sense that I have another woman who calls me at home when the Blonde is out, nor is it a wrong number, or a telemarketer flagrantly ignoring the do not call list. Rather it a friend she is out with.

Wait why is she asking if I’m the only one on the phone?  Of course I’m the only one on the phone I assure her and she all but screams a few very suggestive things into my ear, not the subtle sensual whispers of a lover’s request, not the playful banter of a phone sex operator reading a script and pretending to get off, but a woman who uses words and made suggestions about the state of my usual companion that were by any estimate the stuff of the very best dear Penthouse letters from the late 80’s (which is the last time I bought a Penthouse so I’m not sure about the current content).   And from there it got really, really dirty.

I like people who aren’t afraid to say what they’re thinking.  I curse like a sailor and talking dirty isn’t usually an issue unless I do it at an “inappropriate time”.  She seemed to be very good at both using profane words and oddly combining them with suggested states of arousal, lewd acts, and suggest how I could in the not too distant future help remedy the situation and building need in a rather shall we say hard and fast manner.  The best part is she didn’t need my Amex number, or a case of beer first to talk like that and she wasn’t trying to tempt me just to get back at an ex anything.  Sorry boys (and in some cases girls) she’s spoken for, lucky man.

OK the girl got my attention and if a fraction of what she was suggesting was true I was in for a good night she’d drop the Blonde off in a bit.  30 minutes later pouring a drink that kills the last few shots worth of Kettle, the last drops of the OJ and a glass of wine for the companion of mine who should be arriving in the near future.  Off to light a few candles, turn up the heat so the house isn’t to cool, and always the hopeless romantic retire to the bedroom to wait and watch sports center sports center since there was no decent porn on cable.  (Why this surprised me is in itself a mystery there is never any decent porn on cable yet I hold out hope)

About 90 minutes (or more) later I hear the front door, her foot steps on the stairs, through the loft, down the hall, Sports pale in comparison and I stay reclined across the bed clad in plaid pants and zippered top. She walks in to the room as beautiful as ever and surveys it, says hello and then wonders back out into the hall.  I had by that point consumed the vodka, the original wine I poured for her and one or two more.  Still stone cold sober but mellow and patient knowing sooner or later she’d be back I waited.

The door opened again as she wondered in smiling, an extra twinkle in her eye and a devilish grin.  Trailing a step or so behind her was the quite alluring dark haired body of the verbally creative sexually charged woman that called me earlier making lewd suggestions about states of arousal, potions, lotions, and dildos.

” I see you brought me a present” I offered coyly.  The friend grins and then takes a few quick strides followed by a large leap over the foot board and jumps into bed with me.

“JACK POT, FUCKING JACK POT!!!!  FUCKING EH, GIRL’S NIGHT OUT IS THE BEST NIGHT EVER!!!”  And other similar things run through my head at a million miles per hour I’m thinking something about the number three in French what is it a again twat no that’s not right it just kind of sounds like that.  Trois! Trois! Trois!  I got it!

 In reality my mind is going a million miles an hour with things like “why is this woman in my bedroom” and “now what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

Her elbow and shoulder ricocheted off my head as she came to a sprawling rest next to me but who cares I’ve been hit in the head a million times for a variety of reasons, failing to move quickly enough is probably the most common one.

I’m still drinking it all in, the rest of the universe outside of that roomed ceased to exist completely.  She’s giggling, my Blonde joining in near unison watching me closely, things still look very good from my lounging view point.  My imagination is still doing the math on the possibilities and required questions like straight or Bi?  Kinky or Vanilla? Even if the answer is yes should we save that for perhaps another time?  What had they planned?  Then after a few awkward moments she rolls out of bed, stands up tall, looks deeply into the dog’s eyes, and starts talking to him.

Cruel vile women!  She’s already lost interest in me and is telling the dog how pretty he looks! What a good boy he is!  How nice it is to see him.  90 minutes earlier she was talking dirty to me completely unprovoked, 30 seconds ago she came bounding into my bed and now she was talking to the god damn dog rubbing his head, scratching him behind the ears.  What the fuck?  At this point my tail wasn’t the one that was wagging!

The ladies converse and said it was all her idea to shock me.  Shock me?  What shocked me was the fact that it was the first time in recent memory if not ever that a woman came at a blinding speed to get into bed with me and then topped it off with paying attention to the dog.  She could have brought home a 100 naked writhing sluts that looked like playmates but were really just nuns out on a bender looking for a nice hard fuck and it would have shocked me less than a woman jumping into bed only to jump right back out and talk to the god damned dog.  Sure I should have known better and the truth be told am such a Germ-o-phobe that sort of thing wouldn’t have worked for me anyhow even if I wanted it to.

And there you have it life summed up into a simple experience, no threesome, no wild new things to explore just a few giggles, some nice conversation, a dog that felt loved, and me as the butt of the joke.  In the end all was made right and ended well but the number involved was not trois but deux and those are the details best left between lovers and to your own imagination but it was awfully damn good.

And in all fairness I uncharacteristically let the Blonde read it before posting and she found my view point less than amusing, but boys will be boys even if all they really want is sex.

2 young lesbians, a drunk girl in a convertible & watching lovers quarrel

Best of works are older pieces originally posted else where, typically they are humorous looks into my less than normal day to day life.

Greetings yet again from sin city, if I had a fifth place I called home there is no doubt that this would be it based on the amount of times I seem to make it here every year.  As an update to my gambling losses I’m down, every red cent I bet this year but on the up side it amounts to 8 bucks (2 per trip).  I was up 80 and blew it all, most gamblers will laugh but for me to not walk when I go up a nickel is a rare event.  Now on to the sites and sounds on the strip this time around.

So Thursdays here start to get busy and with the big fight weekend coming up the news predicted of dire situations and “escalating gang violence” from all the LA hoodlums that were going to show up for the week end.  The erratic and alarmist news caster reassured the viewing public that it would be nothing like the rampant violence and massive crime problems encountered during the most recent Democratic National Convention oh wait it wasn’t the DNC it was the RNC, wait that’s wrong too it was the NBA all Star weekend.  I took a deep and relieved breath knowing that it would be bad but not that bad Still I was prudent and kept on the look out for commie bastards, any potential members of the Axis of Evil, and anyone who might attract the ..:namespace prefix = st1 ns = “urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:smarttags” />Clintons, G.W., or Al Sharpton. What they should have warned me about were the 5 Japanese senior citizens in the suite next to mine that would converse at a seemingly in human speed and laugh merrily at a sleep depriving level all night long the first two nights.

So as I finished my business and began roaming the strip last night me and another middle aged white guy in our blatantly demure corporate causal attire, served as a testament to the possibility that there would be escalating fiduciary responsibility in Sin City along with  the gang presence.   Yes the first two horsemen of the apocalypse had arrived reprobate financiers and drug dealers.  Get thee to a nunnery and may god have mercy on your soul!

The only sign of things that had begun escalating was all the fat mid westerns roaming up and down the blvd after grazing gluttonously at the no longer bargain priced buffets .  After stops at the Bellagio, NY NY and Caesar’s we headed toward Treasure Island.

Oh sure people had been trying to hand us pictures of mostly nude women who would love to visit us for a fee of course but standing waiting to cross in front of Treasure Island the treasure of the evening occurred.  A completely inebriated, perhaps inebriated is too polite of a word,  let’s start this over a completely  shit faced drunk about to pass out in the gutter with all three sheets in the wind woman looks out of her electric monkey shit blue Bimmer with the top down and asks the youngish couple next to us.  “is that your girlfriend?”

Frankly neither of us had noticed the couple before, we were too busy noticing the long legged show girl type strutting in front of us, the Latina with lovely hips and thin wispy skirt and the miracle of modern science in the see through blouse and dark nips standing in all their glory that were beaming at us as much as her pearyl whites that she flashed a little wider with each bouncing stride.

So on to the lesbians. Taking in the pair neither was over 5’3″one was dressed looked a slightly hippy McDonald’s eating out of shape skater boy in a ball cap, baggy pants  sneakers and t shirt.  If the question hadn’t been asked I wouldn’t have thought her to be female, I wouldn’t have looked close enough.  The other in a short denim skirt that showed off her short, thick legs and full round ass.  Not unattractive but compared to the surroundings not in the top 30% either, she had a cute little round girl next door face, longish dark hair and a good sized chest.  These were not the male idealized sexy hot play toy porno lesbians that the adult video companies portray in their fantasy indulging productions.  They were just a real people and a real couple out on the street.

As the boyish looking one replied that the other was in fact her girlfriend and took her protectively by the hand. The drunk hot long dark eyed brunette in the bimmer (who was flanked by an even hotter disassociated looking blond and two Latin lover types in the back seat)  began to blighter on how cute the young lesbo was.

She then eventually she called out ” I’d so fuck your girlfriend!” The butch one got pissed, it was more akin to the starting linebacker from a football team’s reaction  if the president of the high school chess club tried to advance his bishop to capture afore mentioned linebacker’s queen and began screaming back indignantly about how she wouldn’t.   As the light changed and the bimmer pulled out the young couple crossed the street and the pair began to argue.  They argued about the stranger’s proposition, they argued about how the other lacked a sense of fidelity.  The cute one tried to reassure her, she took her hand, she stopped threw her arms around her and kissed held her partner, quite lovingly.


Now any of us who have been around the block know that some people can kiss anyone they want to lovingly and with a heated passion at any time they need to so while it could have been genuine affection it also could have been an attempt to hide past infidelities and trysts.  The butch girl wasn’t buying,.. as we walked up the street a few more blocks you could see her discomfort, you could see her fear and I could remember how un-fulfilling, desperate, unstable, and all consuming young love was and seemingly still is.

How passion and uncertainty of a future could vanish in an instant, in the very second that something better came along.  Gone with little or no regret  by one party and a large gaping wound on the other, the uncertain one the one who failed to see the futility in their devotion and love, and the lack of intention and genuine reciprocation.

The cute one pleaded, she implored, she border on begging her lover to believe her that there was no one else that she had no interest in anyone else, not at that moment not ever, clutching at her, reaching for her hand, stopping just short of a Shakespearian act of throwing herself on to Las Vegas Blvd. to prove her own devotion. A cold hurt shoulder still existed.  Perhaps it was and I am merely speculating here that the butch girl would have jumped at the opportunity to have a dalliance with the drunkard in the car.

Fuck I would have done her and to put it in crude layman’s terms, she was a woman who wouldn’t just look good bent over a sofa, she was in fact very hot, quite pretty  facially and seemingly open sexually speaking …sure I knew nothing more about her than the Quarreling couple she could have had a host of un-redeeming characteristics other than  her adult beverage consumption rate to go with her looks but for them moment we’ll give her the benefit of the doubt.

As my counter part in crime ( or fiduciary responsibility) for the evening turned to me after four speechless blocks and stated “you don’t hear that every day”

I shrugged and said “I guess just because you live an alternative lifestyle doesn’t mean you don’t have the same problems of jealousy and insecurity.  If  she likes a she and she and she likes a she ,then I don’t see why the butch one didn’t return the proposition with and “I and I’d so like to fuck you too   Making it a ménage three.”

 He stopped and corrected my French saying don’t you mean trois ?”    “No I meant three it rhymes better with she.”   He looked perplexed and we headed back to Agent Provocateur to consider wasting money on an iridescent blue garter, g-string and matching mostly sheer bra that his wife will never wear, not for him, not for herself.   Sometimes I just don’t understand people.


I did however ever see a woman at 3:30am posing in a hotel lobby lips puckered up kiss to a Wayne Newton poster, her friend snapped a picture, then she turned hiked up her skirt revealing a thong and placed her backside with amazing skill and dexterity on poor old Wayne’s face as if  he were about to spring to life and get her off.  Her friend snapped another pic and security arrived to discuss their behavior.  Stumbling into the limo not from intoxication but fatigue I was passed by a woman that for some reason reminded me of the old Motley Crue song Same Old Situation and a line from training day soundtrack at the same time ”  …with a Portuguese time piece named Karen”

 These thing also go into the category of things I don’t and never will understand.

One Last Present

After a long hectic week filled with countless visitors, cases of beverages, entirely too much food that all too often began with mornings that started far, far too early.At the end of another long day he lounged on a pile of blankets and pillows not far from the tree but even more importantly near the fire warming his skin. The room was filled with a soft glow as the flames danced behind him casting shadows and reflection off the other decorations and small colored lights flickeredon and off seemingly randomly.

Not a sound, the house was finally silent, no loud conversations, no excited anything, just dark rooms and silence.He drank the serenity in staring mindlessly into the distance with nothing, not a thought, or a plan, or intention of any type until she emerged from the shadows.

At first he didn’t notice anything in particular, that is until her robe fell to the floor mid stride revealing the shimmering glow of her skin adorned with a glistening rhinestone chocker that led between her exposed breasts and circled her waist.She moved slowly toward him, each and every movement choreographed and suddenly why the blankets were by the fire became all too clear.

Suddenly he was alert as she drew closer her body delicately perfumed and glittered.Tauntingly she leaned over him her hair passing by, the body jewelry hanging tauntingly as her breasts mere inches from his face looked like they longed to be kissed.All too soon she was standing again with an armload of blankets.Striding away he watched her cute ass move and she knew it bending over slowly, teasingly, knowingly, his gaze unwavering and intense.The week’s fatigue had given way to more carnal desires her back still towards him kneeling on a pillow and the every so slowly unfolding the heavy blanket in front of him, positioning herself on all fours and then demurely, or perhaps not so demurely onto her stomach glimpsing back at him before rolling to her side reaching toward him and removing all of the pillows, sliding seductively arranging them.

Making her way back to him reaching down and stroking his cock through his pants and then touching herself, her pussy smooth and shimmering with her desire as her fingers danced over, between and into it at first only slightly as she longed to be touched, deeper.She loved how he watched her and at that moment it was now all he could think of as she offered her hand and he stood to take her in his arms, kissing her lips, tongues clashing passionately soon after his arms swallowing her. His hands firmly kneading her bottom and then smacking it playfully.

She kissed his neck, working her way to his chest, unbuttoning his shirt one button at a time, kissing him softly slowly and completely covering every inch of newly bared flesh with her warm lips.It was at moments like these that the hours he spent toiling at the club to build his muscles was most appreciated, visually he was always appealing but feeling his solid powerful body against her did things to her that she never dared to explain.

Unbuckling his belt she teased him through his jeans, the lowering them slowly and leading him to the blankets, positioning him just so, the fire not too far in the distance, the heat of the room growing as she kissed him deeply, drawing back and their eyes slowly met her body hovering over his barely apart until she moved ever so slightly.

He moaned in delight as she slide his cock into her, slowly, a quarter of an inch at a time, pausing savoring, moving ever so slightly, teasing him, it was so hard to resist just thrusting upward and burying himself in her completely, but she savored the slow friction as she lowered herself on him slightly more, a few slow and pain staking moments later her wet and hot pussy completely filled with his cock.Their eyes never broke their gaze,she leaned back and heaved her chest forward, inviting him to kiss her breasts, nibble on her soft flesh, using his warm mouth he teased her nipples , sucking lightly, dragging his tongue slowly across them then biting just to the edge of pain stopping at the height of her erotic delight. She began her ascent upward, as slow and teasing as he had entered her, a fraction of an inch, a small wiggle and a pause, it lasted for ever, then slowly down, and then up again, filling her fully and gently and then leaving her longing to feel him inside of her. All the while her breasts in his mouth, his hands going from her ass to the small of her back, grabbing and tracing and finally a playful gentle smack with him inside of her brought her to the undeniable edge or orgasm.

He sucked her tits a little rougher, she moaned, he patted her bottom crisply, she moaned again louder and ground into him harder, hips rocking front to back and circling in all the same motion her slow measured movement gave way to the drive for release, still far from fast but no where near ad slow the speed of her movements increased again slightly as her body tensed and he could wait no more as he came she tensed and clenched her teeth, throwing her head back and screaming in delight, her body quivering, as the waves of her own intense orgasm washed though her, completely.They finished together, and seconds later she collapsed on to his chest, still hard inside of her, the fire warming their skin, she wiggled, looked at him longingly and asked“Again?”

Reflections and Fantasy

As her legs pumped away Sandy looked over the top of the display on her elliptical, her music droned on in her ears as she passed the time stealing glimpse at the meat heads in the weight room.

She watched as the groups of men who traveled in small packs grunted and groaned with too much enthusiasm as they moved from exercise to exercise.  She had been going to the gym for months, in part to fill the largely open void in her evening social schedule and in part because of the years of stories telling how health clubs were nothing more than meat markets.  Oh the stories she had heard from her girlfriends over the years about the muscle bound Adonis that simply wouldn’t leave them alone, the suggestively laden banter and playful conversation that elevated heart rates, fit bodies and an over abundance of testosterone would bring about.

For months she toiled away watching from the distance as the people in the weight room went about their business, it seemed a strange a foreign land all it own.  There were the aging athletes, some more than 25 years older than her, high school kids, couples, the jocks and the one group of large scary men who seemed to be engaged more in some primitive ritual of testing ones strength with out killing themselves rather than anything to do with being healthy.

Over time one man in particular caught her attention. Much like her no one seemed strike up a conversation.  He was a mountain of a man who moved with intense purpose.  From time to time she would catch a reflection of his ice blue eyes and their blazing fury in the mirror as he approached his next exercise.  Those eyes gazing into hers with lust filled intensity that they seemed to project at all times.  She melted at the thought of them, gazing back at her knowingly, his strong jaw and long locks hovering over her.

Sandy was his prey, and she was more than willing to surrender to his desires.  But he was little more than a fantasy that helped pass the time of her own work outs.  It was better than just listening her MP3 player.  Lost in her thoughts of him she turned the hour long cardio work out into 90 minutes. Effortlessly stealing glimpses in the mirrors as he moved. She learned which nights he would be toiling away for her pleasure and like clock work she was watching him perversely from a distance.

Wondering why he always wore long sleeve pants and swear shirts.  Could it be that his body was not what it seemed?  After all he was nothing more than a solitary figure moving in the distance, one that no one approached.  But one night she caught the reflection of bead of sweat rolling across his brow over his cheek and finally falling free from his rugged chin.  She imagined herself beneath him.  His breath heaving and heavy as he slid in and out of her, his chest bared.  His body seemingly cut from stone except for the heat and delicate friction pressing against and into as that lone drop of perspiration danced from his handsome face onto her breasts.  She could feel him against her as he moved in rhythm with her sensing what she longed for, knowing what she desired as her back arched and her body tensed, holding on for one last second before being over whelmed with her own release.   But all too soon her time ended and she went off to the remainder of her equally unfulfilling night.

Occasionally someone would say hello to her, or even ask a question.  A litany of worshippers they were not but nice polite interaction began to take place between herself and other members who always seemed to be there at the same time.  Sandy blushed as she wondered if the others timed their schedules around a particular piece of eye candy or not.  It seemed silly but if she was doing it odds were that she wasn’t the only one.  The question continued to eat at her as she watched him move, his strides graceful but bursting with power.

Was he shy?  No one ever approached him perhaps he was the one not making eye contact.  Shyness was something at times she could certainly related to. Oh she could help him with his shyness, coaxing him from his shirt, her hands caressing his bulging shoulders and flat hard stomach as she began to unbuckle his jeans.  Each soft kiss grew deeper with the promise of what was to come.  His hands finding the small of her back and pulling her closer as she touched him though the denim, his passion had risen and was begging to be let out as she strained to stand tall enough to kiss his neck playfully and whisper her intentions into his ears.  The words caused him to blush as his heart raced in anticipation of things he had only ever imagined.

Finding her way to the locker room she just wouldn’t let the thoughts of him go as she stood in the shower water caressing her body, washing imagining it was him caressing each and every inch of her wet being. Pressing her into the wall as the warms streams of water washed over her, his touch firm his hands strong and rugged holding her as the water rushed over her chest and onto his lips as his mouth devoured her breasts, lusting after the other equally to the one currently occupying his attention.

Standing and lifting her onto him in one smooth motion, he entered her over and over, his hands guiding her motions as she worked her self onto him again and again. Each time she moved straining to feel him deeper inside of her. One arm bracing her against the wall to the side the other around his neck as she balanced her self and her motion precariously on him.

His chest pressing into hers as she rose and fell endlessly. Drifting back to reality she stifled her moans and breath as the fantasy gave way to the reality of her own touch and her growing lust, her hands touch and caressing as she drifted from the present to the fantasy and back again, imaging his blue eyes gazing into her, not her eyes but her very soul. Finally bringing herself to release, legs quivering, body tensed and shaking fighting the desire to scream in pleasure and satisfaction.  An more sound would have escaped the barely private area with in the shower, over powered the sound of running water and made her action obvious to everyone with in ear shot.

As the last wave subsided it was as if he had been there, her mind lied to her body with the sensation of where his hands had been.  Lingering in the water drinking in the release and the place where she had provided it to herself, a place while not all together public it was certainly not private.  A wash with feelings of excitement and daring she finished washing and dressed.  Heading out into the lobby there he was.  Washed and groomed in hi jeans and Polo shirt.  His eyes no less beautiful but with out the seemingly cruel vacant intensity she had come to associate with them, his face even more handsome.  His bulky sweats had been betraying the lean and strong body now on display.

His smile was wide and easy and his manner confident but unassuming as he carried on with the Jim at the front desk.  Jim was the only person there who knew Sandy by name.  “Did you have a good work out he asked?”  She replied “of course” if they only knew, and for the first time she made eye contact with the man she had watched anonymously in the distance.

As her name left her lips introducing herself to him she wondered how this would change things, would having met him kill the dream, in the end it did quite the opposite as they stood there chatting.  Finally she had a story to tell to her friends about the guys at the gym, what she wasn’t sure about was exactly how much to tell.

The Masquerade A chapter from It Had been Years

Typically when I post it’s random, quickly put together and what ever in going on in the moment for me.This one is not the case based on all the great feed back Kink Week on Myspace I’ve decided to share an excerpt from my completed but unpublished novel that at it’s core is two love stories but is lifestyle centered.This occurs about 120 Pages in so some back ground is…The lead female characters Nadrea is bi and a switch. Donna has bi tendencies but is pure sub.The male leads Vincent is straight confident male who has been around many different blocks and Robert (the husker) is as Vanilla as the day is long. So with that said in the future I’ll be posting my short erotica here but wanted to provide alonger piece to kick things off.

Friday night in a club, not an unusual occurrence by any stretch of the imagination and Nadrea arrived before the club opened the DJ’s were still setting the sound, the “models” were being briefed on their roles for the evening, as a group.As the music progressed to the type that would be pulsating through out the evening, people took their places milling about and the rest of this little world filtered in.As the clubs flashing white light danced sinisterly over the now crowded room full of undulating flesh and flowing hair. An occasional beam of red or violet light caressing a section of humanity moving in their own unique interpretation of life and rhythms for a few fleeting moments of life until most go back to their otherwise soul crushing daily existence.But for those few brief seconds in a lifetime the sounds thump, flashes of light join them in their dance in what would otherwise be a dark cold empty space, but their energy floats along with the man made fog and the smoke.The room continued to fill and assorted chemicals, although they are strictly forbidden, flow through so many people’s veins.

The room was now filled with images that would terrify the good God fearing people of the Midwest.Men were dancing with men, couples and groups writhing in rhythmically induced ecstasy.This was a part of the world that most cultures wouldn’t even try to understand.Something wicked was occurring off in the corner as he entered the club.An angry Goth DJ screamed encouragement or insults, it is indecipherable which, at the crowd.There was no judgment here, no intolerances of any kind for ones choice of preferences or partners.For such a misunderstood group they were very open and accepting of others.Although, one could never tell just by looking into the room they were just people indulging their own consented choices, living in their own personal Nirvana’s for those few fleeting hours, for their own hedonistic paradise before going back out into the light of day that required most to be something they truly were not.A handful of merchants with small tables full of their wares were on the one outside wall of the club, more like something one would expect to find at a chamber of commerce mixer or a small town country craft fair.Except the people who typically attend those things, would think sins that were being committed in the shadows of our nations capital, rather reveling in the freedoms we have.But unlike the Chamber mixers, the insurance agent was replaced with shoes and boots, instead of copiers there are implements of pleasure and pain hanging from a chain link display behind a table that didn’t have diamonds and pearls on it, but rather leather collars and metal spikes.It wasn’t Victoria’s Secret where matching ones lacey little undies to an allegedly racy bra is important, although Nadrea still thought about those types of things should always match or at the very least compliment each other.Here it was leather and rubber. Silk was almost completely out of place: a woman in an woven unlined immodest silk top drenched in sweat dancing next to a seemingly gay man all in leather, a USMC tattoo peaking out from under hi ½ sleeved shirt.Don’t ask, don’t tell, right?The building looks more like a structure that should have been on a corner on Bourbon Street that someone just forgot to add the balcony to.But unlike Bourbon Street, the outside was calm and unassuming while inside the decadent underbelly of sexuality danced its pornographic little dance.Rituals and rights detailed to the ultimate end, such a stringent formal process for something so misunderstood.Tonight was a birth right, it was one of the events not to be missed it was the annual Leather Masquerade.Bodies in some cases painted to hide their nakedness or to accentuate the nudity without actually, truly being exposed. Feather masks and leather headdresses hid the faces of many of the party goers and add an element of old world European mystery to a scene that would have made Marquis de Sade proud.Nadrea in her black latex shined to a mirrored perfection, the boned lace up corset top drawing her waist in tightly and pushing her breasts into an opera singers the compacted flesh producing a fake roundness on her upper chest.The music stopped and the lights froze in place as if time itself had stopped.Nadrea saw Vincent as he passed through the inner doors of the vestibule.Peering through her one hundred and eighty dollar purple feather and faux diamond encrusted mask she sees he was wearing his well shined black Doc Martins, painted on black leather jeans and he had checked his shirt at the door along with his coat.Nadrea until this point hadn’t seen his skin except for his face and forearms.His stomach was not only flat but was ridged with deep muscular creases, quadriceps rippling through the leather pants as if they were a mere extension of his skin.His arms looked large and powerful from a distance, his chest barreled and his round shoulders looked like someone had evenly split a cannon ball placing a half on each side of his upper arm.Most of the other men in the club were toned, some were even muscular but none were built like his large brooding figure. He looked more like an All Pro linebacker looking to smash some one into the ground.“This disco use to be a cute cathedral” rang out as the evenings host explained that the building was “a den of inequity before it was cleansed to become paradise.”Here, paradise resembled more a part of hell, as he screamed into the microphone “let the real beats begin!”And with that the music kicked back in louder and with a much different flavor as Vincent dawned his simple black mask.Unlike the other parts of his wardrobe that fit into the scene his mask looked as if it was left over from his lone ranger costume when he was a kid.Nadrea watched from a distance as people who saw him tried to size him up.The women watched, they couldn’t tell but most were sure he was straight.At first he didn’t notice what was really going on, at first glance it was just another industrial dance club, Vincent thought to himself, “Ok, so they’re having a theme night.Music, smoke, lights and writhing sexuality” it was to him all pretty standard fair.As he stepped forward into the club things began to catch his eye, 12 men and 12 women alternating in gender creating two even rows of souls with their eyes to the floor kneeling with hands tied behind their backs forming a path that had to be walked through to enter the main club area.As he stepped into the space between the first two souls the lyrics associated with the music caught his ear. “Did I disappoint you? Did I let you down? Did I stand on the shores and watch you drown?”As he entered his face was not stoic, his eyes were wild taking it all in as quickly as he could.On the stage there were men and women on display in various forms of bondage ranging from simple shackles and cuffs on the ends of the stage working it’s way to the exquisite Japanese style rope work in the center displaying both the front and the back on different “models”.Nope, he wasn’t in Kansas any more or Iowa either for that matter.As he progressed through the 24 souls slowly admiring them with a child like curiosity and taking in the other surroundings, he was greeted by a beautiful woman who looked like she was part dominatrix out of that issue of Penthouse when he was sixteen and part high end party planner.On one side was an Asian woman in what appeared to be a sea foam green latex outfit that was trimmed in black velvet around the sleeves, the skirt and the opening exposing her cleavage.On the other side was a submissive man and woman.Nadrea hadn’t been able to take her eyes off him since he entered.She knew he would come, her grin widening at the thought of the possibilities.The host greeted him “Good evening.”

“Fuck.” escaped Vincent’s mouth as what was going on around him was beginning to truly set in.

“Top or bottom?” the dominatrix asked as people in the club had begun to not only notice Vincent but to point him out to others.

“Hugh” Vincent uttered sounding like he looked, a stupefied dumb jock.

“Well what are you?” the hostess pressed just as Vincent was noticing that she was wearing a leather teddy and thigh high boots, although the term teddy usually implied something feminine and soft, her outfit was neither of these things.

“I’m meeting a friend, first time here” he then replied in a more coherent and somewhat more confident manner.

“Ahh, no wonder I didn’t recognize you, I doubted that I could have missed someone like you.”She then proceeded to go over “The Rules” as she put it.“No cameras, no pictures, no cell phones with cameras’.If you have a phone with a camera, Mira will cover it with a band aid.Just then the Asian woman with the dyed Raggedy Ann red hair produced a band aid that matched the green in her outfit.

“No, I’m good, no phone tonight, only foreign substance in my pants is the ID and drink money.”Vincent replied starting to sound more like himself.

“That’s nice, love”she said without a second thought then continued on with the rules, she came out of character every so slightly sounding less like an enlightened sexual being and more like the mandatory legal ease at the end of a TV commercial.“We are pan sexual…No touching with out permission, no exposed genitals in public areas”Vincent thought it was starting to sound a lot more like New Orleans. “Everyone is welcome here”she said and it did in fact seem to sound genuine. “Drink, dance and enjoy!”she said flashing a wicked smile at him.The afore mentioned Mira then spoke, her soft oriental features and skin clashed with the stupid red hair and mint green dress.She looked like something that they might have drawn in an episode of the Jetson’s.

“Gay, straight or bi?” she asked again. Vincent who was thinking a little less about the Jetson hooker episode he had just devised in his head and more about why the fuck they cared if they were pansexual.“Meeting a friend not sure what she is.” He said producing the card Nadrea had given him the night before “Why does it matter who I like to fuck?” he asked with and edge in his tone.Mira hearing his question “It doesn’t, but it’s also a waste of my time if you’re gay.”She said taking a leash from the female submissives’ hand and gave it to Vincent.“She can finish the tour and help you find your friend.”

As he followed her, which seemed somewhat backwards for the person holding the leash to do in this situation, but then again as a kid he had a dog that just ran ahead and choked itself every time they went for a walk, at least she wasn’t doing that, he thought.Pausing and realizing that there was probably someone in the club right now who would get off on that.By the time he was past the hostess, a group had backed up behind him clamoring and greeting each other with how great the night was going to be.

As Vincent started to cross the edge of the dance floor toward the bar he spotted Nadrea coming across towards him.“I see her.” he said handing the leash back to the woman, he wasn’t quite sure what proper etiquette was, did he have to take her back to where he got her like soccer mom renting a stroller at the mall or bring her back full like a rental car to avoid an outlandish set of charges.He smiled laughing at his own thoughts, even here he could amuse himself with his own twisted sense of reality.She just took the leash and headed back to the hostesses’ side.He waited as Nadrea got closer, “Drink?” He offered.

“Yeah, but not there asshole.”She said.Ok, looking around all the bars seem equally crowded. So he just continued to head to the closest one.Nadrea tried to tell him not to head in that direction, but he can’t hear her over the music.She grabbed his hand. Despite them spending time together before and kissing for the first time just yesterday their hands had never touched except to exchange metro tickets. Breaking stride and turning towards her.“Look it’s crowded there, I have a private table over there with a few friends, no line, one waitress to every two tables.”

“I’m fine here” he replied mostly just to irritate her.

“Dick head!”

He laughed, at her frustration.“No thanks, I just came to dance.” And with that he took a bottled water from the passing waitress, flipped her one of those infamous 20’s that he tormented Deb with, gulped it down and took himself to the dance floor to join the throngs of sweaty bodies.He wasn’t there for the scene or the shock value, he wasn’t sure why he was there, so he decided to dance.Nadrea was baffled by just how aloof he was, how she couldn’t influence him. How he showed up and then ignored her, did he really think he was there to dance? Although as she watched him, he was fairly good at it. Nadrea headed back to her table.

About an hour later a winded, sweaty Vincent appeared.He greeted Donna and her somewhat shell shocked Husker.He was the very kind of person that would be nervous by the raw sexuality all around him.He thought he was open minded, understanding and progressive, but in truth his tolerances were not all that far from the main stream.Perhaps last week wasn’t as wild, the music sounded the same and upon reflecting on it there were a few people around in leather pants, he just assumed they were French tourists.The Husker sat quietly with his back to the dance floor.

“Nice of you to join us” Nadrea said with faked sarcasm.

“Mypleasure.” Vincent said as he slide into the over stuffed chair behind her.

“That was my seat!” she said as she sat on the arm of the chair next to him.He ordered two more waters.The Husker added a third.

“Why don’t you two just order some warm milk before bed time?” Donna scolded, although she herself despite having been there for more than an hour was barely through her first drink, the Husker on the other hand was playing camel, he was drinking water like he was heading out into the desert.Suddenly the Husker felt a little more comfortable, there was someone else he had met and conversed with.The two talked sports, just like the first time, but updating the conversation with what they expected out of the upcoming weekends games rather than ones that had already passed.Tiffany arrived wearing what could only be described as a shiny Bavarian milk maid’s dress, and heels that were not made for dancing in except for professionals in the skin trade.

When the next round of waters arrived, the Husker continued his camel routine, drinking water as if it could not only save him from conversation, but also make him invisible.This time Vincent gulped two bottles down in less than three breaths, slid to the side of the chair Nadrea was on, forcing her to move as he stood up and in his worst German accent “And now we dance!”Amusing himself with old Saturday night live skits in his head.Taking the milk maid’s hand in one of his, and then Donna’s hand in the other he looks at the Husker continuing on with the bad accent, “Come along now Dieter!”

Not sure of what was happening, the Husker replied politely, “My name is Robert.”“Never mind, Bobby” Vincent said dropping the bad accent, “no fucking sense of humor! We’re going to dance and you’re coming with us.”And as he walked towards the dance floor with ladies in hand into the center where it was the closest and the hottest, the Husker followed.Vincent danced and danced some more. He was suddenly young again, it was like the clock had been set back 20 years and the only thing that mattered was the next song and the next rhythm.Tiffany found him quite alluring and the Husker tried to move with Donna, eventually losing some of his white bread box step awkwardness for a little genuine euphoria in his bounding steps.Nadrea took her chair back as the others at her table slowly snuck away to join the dancing.“I’m the queen of the club.” She thought to herself. But three songs later staring at the one remaining couple around her set of tables finally succumbed “Ahh, fuck it! Let’s dance.”Again she was not in control, other men fell at her feet and he did what ever he wanted. Normally she would have been delighted to dance, but she wanted to make him uncomfortable, to do what she wanted, instead he was the party.She found them in the center, a dancing milk maid closest to him, but the other pariahs had started closing in, Vincent was surrounded by scantily clad dancers that varied in size and shape in costume and race. Mira had made it from hostess to dancing with him and Tiffany.“The bastard” Nadrea said out loud but no one heard or cared.She walked up to him placing herself between his two most obvious dancing partners and joined in.As the song ended the next had a long symphonic opening and as many on the floor took a brief reprise to catch their breath Nadrea stepped closer in to Vincent.He looked her in the eye and smiled a wicked grin. Leaning into Mira asked may I touch you?She nodded her approval while showing a devilish grin.He put his arms gently around her, pulling her close looked deeply into her eyes and kissed gently and slowly, releasing her as if she was unimaginably fragile as he stepped back. Mira’s eyes seductively watching him not breaking contact with his as he brushed himself solidly across Nadrea moving over to Tiffany who was very well aware of the scene unfolding in front of her. “May I touch you?” he asked and with out hesitation, “Yes, any way you want to” He took her firmly almost roughly in his arms, lifted her off the ground kissed her from the base of her neck and raised her higher off the ground until his lips met the lowest point of her cleavage not completely encased in latex, setting her down as solidly as he had picked her up. The song had started in earnest and the floor again heaved in it erotic rhythms, but Nadrea had seen enough, it was her turn. She dropped to her knees and kissed him from the base of his boots slowly up to his knees, her nails gently caressed his sweat soaked back.

Her teeth nibbled on his thighs as she passed over them. Her lips lingered on his crotch as she kissed her way up further to his stomach and in the valley that his muscular chest created.Past the base of his neck to the tip of his chin as he leaned down into her so she could reach.As she moved to his lips he kissed her back, deeply.As she tried to prolong the kiss he moved his head back “Until later. Now we dance!” Looking back at Mira and Tiffany who were still watching as their bodies moved gently to the loud pulsating song. Nadrea had his attention, she had the whole time his display was done just to provoke her and provoke her he had.Nadrea was never that intimate with anyone, people who knew her knew that she didn’t like to kiss and they had never seen her like she had just been with anyone.Nadrea never thought twice about it, she was marking her territory and making sure she had his interest.The other ladies however, would have been more than happy to share him.

More than an hour passed, the group dancing among themselves and with intermittent strangers.The Husker excused himself even camels have to pee, Vincent decided join him leaving the ladies on the floor.

“What was that out there?” the Husker asked with a farm boy’s wonder.

“No fucking clue, but I liked it.”Vincent admitted.Stopping by the much less crowed bar, he flagged their waitress down who was bored since her table for the night was obsessed with dancing and ordered a dozen bottled waters, 4 Apple-tini’s, 4 Chocolate- tini’s and a large glass of orange juice.Vincent slipped her a hundred.“Sorry, it’s my fault they’re dancing, so here’s a little extra for you.” She thanked him not looking right away but realizing moments later what he had done.The water bottles and the Martini’s arrived at the table, packed in silver buckets of ice.The Martini’s still in the shakers and the glasses submerged.

One o’clock rolled around and the group was mostly spent, they headed to the table to find the refreshments. Vincent once again took Nadrea’s chair this time she sat playfully across his lap, a move more befitting the previous night’s school girl look.Mira and Tiffany followed suit. Tiffany sat on one arm of the chair and Mira knelt by his feet. Nadrea kicked her, Vincent may not have even noticed her there, but her quite submission to him was not to be tolerated.Mira soon after took the chair next to them.Most went straight for the water and then onto the other drinks Vincent with his OJ, the ladies with the Martini’s, the Husker however stayed with his water.They collapsed into the furniture, the sweat still poured from everyone’s skin before they could begin to dry.The rested and they talked.Tiffany and Mira babbled at each other about some unimportant similar interests.Donna draping her arms around the Husker on a couch, she was genuinely glad he was there.Nadrea squirmed on Vincent’s lap, traced his face with her fingers and fixed and re-fixed his hair.Soon it came time to go and this time Vincent was the first to leave, bidding his farewells, hugs and kisses for the ladies, jovial hand shakes with them men.He turned to Nadrea, “Care to join me?”

Nadrea responds “Only if we can bring those two” pointing at Tiffany and Mira.

“Fine by me.” He stated unphased and headed for the door Nadrea was again following him.While he stood at the coat check, waiting on his belongings Nadrea caught up.“Where are the other two?” he asked.

“I can get them and I doubt you can keep up with the three of us.I’ve had them both and it takes a lot of effort.”

“Cool, more pancakes for me” as he put on his coat and again she followed him into the street.