What Are My Limits?
The Triumphant Return of Mr Insensitive
Trigger Warning – This post deals with the Divorce or two couples we know. While accurate is a bit cold and detached because well I’m kind of an asshole and additionally they really are not part of our lives and I’m not “involved” with with any the parties
Setting the record straight I have very rarely claimed to not be an asshole. Let’s first look at the Month of May. I was home on nights of the 7th and 8th. The Night of the 13th and all day on the 14th and 15th. And then the 27th until now but in that case the Chesty Blonde didn’t get home until the 30th. So now that we’ve established I’m an Asshole with no life let’s pick back up on the Night of the 30th at a Mexican place about a mile from the house.
This post started as a tweet in case it looks familiar. But was worth expanding on
TCB- “X and Y are getting divorced”
Mister Insensitive – “They’re both Assholes, so I can see that.”
So in this case X and Y actually have already been mentioned because it was their “situation” that was the basis of the Bad Marriage Advice post.
TCB “ Doesn’t that bother you? Not even a little bit?”
Mister Insensitive – “Nope” hoping this was the end of this conversation.
Oh look here he comes in a German Luxury Sedan, it is the triumphant return of Mr Insensitive! So while I’m being an uncensored dick let’s be completely honest., I don’t really know either of them on any meaningful level beyond their names, and the fact I liked their dog. I “tolerated” them at a few functions but had absolutely no desire to put up with her constant and obvious need for endless high drama bullshit or his chain smoking, whiskey bottle gulping, drunken frat boy antics. So the fact I could care less that they were having martial issues really is on the same scale as my concern for anything they were doing. Did I mention their one redeeming factor was I like their dog? In fact I like most dogs more than most people so it’s probably not a shock. So as far as I was concerned they should have fun, be who they are, I’ll be at a safe distance.
In others words. Not only was I not in any way emotionally invested in their domestic bliss any more than I am on the latest the mayoral election in Krakow Poland…I could really not have given less of a shit in general. It has no bearing on anything in my selfish little universe. So other than not wishing them any harm I was about as indifferent as possible.
TCB was obviously looking for more from me. I could tell by her expression.
Me – “I saw the moving truck on Saturday…or Sunday. Not sure which. Figured something was going on.”
TCB – “So what do you really think?”
Me – I hope he’s fucking that bar tender she accused him of liking. And maybe six or seven of her slutty friends.”
TCB – “How do you know she has six or seven slutty friends?”
Me “Actually I don’t know for a fact that she has six or seven slutty friends. But as a rule of thumb I figure everyone has six or seven slutty friends. (I proceed to name hers) unless they’re like me and are lucky and have far more.” Note she is not amused by either my ability to tell her which of her friends are slutty (and their is never the implication that that is in any way a bad thing) or by the fact that according to “normal” standards all of mine are. Which I think is wonderful because despite being an asshole I think freedom of sexual expression makes the world a better place.
I hit a nerve, so rather than solve what the issue was dipped a chip in Salsa, eyed the queso and a jalapeno , and wondered where my carnitas verde was. The topic shifts to something else. 10 minutes later. She adds out of no where “R&R are getting divorced.” Now I see the real issue. Unlike the couple we had been discussing this is one we’ve known for 15+ years, have ties to one’s family (one is the brother of one of her best friends who happens to be married to my old drummer.), Lil and their kids played together, we went to the beach with our extended families, and countless other things. This time I decided to think before answering.
Then in my usual sensitive fashion “ Hell I’d divorce him just to escape his family”. It was said only half in jest. I love his family, they are wonderful people but I could never function inside that high level closely intertwined type of structure. As an outsider I can come and go from those functions and enjoy it. Unlike them who have to be at the same place to see the same people at the same time every week, it is just not my style. Fuck I’m lucky if I know what State or Country I’m going to be in let alone having to be at So and So’s house for 6 hours every Sunday.
TCB – “They were in counseling for… a very long time. It’s been really hard on him.”
Now I felt bad but I’m a realist and partnerships often don’t work in romance, life, or business.
“Too much pressure” I offered. The Blonde looked at me, obviously not following.
“He’s putting too much pressure on himself. No one on either side of his family has ever gotten a divorce. So fucking Catholic. All guilt and suffering. People break up all the time. It sounds mutual and as civil as possible. So one moved out and they’ll both move on. The kids are older so no real disruption to their lives and routines. They both work and there is little income disparity so the financial burden isn’t terrible. Assets are pretty basic. It should be fairly clean and easy.”
TCB “ That is really cold.” She paused “ but accurate. It’s scary how your mind works. Everything is some type of transaction or another, a calculation of liabilities and exposure against gains.”
Me – “ You think my mind is scary from out there try living with it for a day” I laughed but wasn’t kidding. I know I’m an asshole, I know all too well what floats through my thoughts, and at even the most inopportune times exactly how calculating it can be. A walking actuary table. It is an occupational hazard, a byproduct of what I am more or less “made to do”. Lions Hunt prey, I analyze situations and structure deals. Sometimes those terms are cruel though usually they are very fair. Still ugliness is part of every agreement. Puts and Takes.
Am I happy either couple is getting divorced? Of course not. In one case there truly is no feelings on the matter, their situation is little more than a passing head line on a news story I won’t read. The other sure it’s sad, Shit happens, and being a cold heartless prick. Maybe it’s for the better. Perhaps both will ultimately be infinitely happier. Sometimes happily ever after is somewhere different than where the story begins.
And that is probably what upset her, the fact that I know and accept that so easily. The fact that I didn’t offer platitudes or reassurances of any kind. At the time it was not intentional I was a lion looking at a wounded gazelle; hungry or not there was another meal. And like the lion I was doing what nature made me to do, looking at the assets and finding the upside or limiting the damage. Happy endings are for massages and Disney movies. Me I like pixies and nymphs…they’re more my speed and very erotic little creatures. And there my friends you have the triumphant return of Mr Insensitive. Hope fully the next installment will involve more pixies and nymphs fornicating and less divisions of assets and dead gazelles (or relationships).
Look I’m the person people come to with tough questions. Real problems and genuine things that they need help (or want me to) solve. And in truth I’m pretty fucking awesome at helping, getting them to the right resources and or getting them to find solutions. I am cool under pressure, brutal but well intentioned, and often a force to be reckoned with. That is unless of course its marriage or relationship advice. Then I’m Hurricane mal and can only offer Bad Marriage Advice
It’s a Friday night. I’m “being social” with a group of (The Blonde’s) acquaintances. Normally they are nice people who I tolerate well in small doses and some of who I actually enjoy. That night was not one of those nights.
One is going on about how she’s upset that her husband is attracted to another woman. Seriously high drama bat shit crazy high school BS. I try to stay out of it.
I defer twice. Then when cornered start a complete and utter shit storm.
Radom Party going woman – “Don’t you think its terrible he’s attracted to her (meaning another woman)?”
Me- No. I think it’s normal and probably healthy actually.
Woman married to said man- “We’re married! I’ve had his children, and this is what he does!”
Me – “Is he fucking her?”
Woman- “Pardon me! What did you ask?”
Me- “I asked is he fucking the woman he’s attracted to?”
Woman- “absolutely not!”
Me – “So what’s the problem?”
Woman – head spinning spewing world class diatribe hateful anti male speech about how we’re all the same.
Me- “So you’ve never been attracted to someone who isn’t your husband since you became a couple?”
Woman- not in the same way.
Me- oh ok.
Enter the ire of other woman who are now offended by me.
“What if the TCB liked X.”
Me – ok
Woman 2 – What if he was flirting with her?
Me- “She’s hot. Who could blame him.”
Woman 3 “And I suppose TCB knows when some woman catches your eye.”
Me – “Usually”
Back to high drama wife where it all began “So I kicked him out!” because this obviouly all about her.
Friends cheer and applaud her statement.
The crowd begins advocating kicking all bastard husbands out for basically nothing even by my estimation of vanilla standards..
Me – that’s a great idea. Nothing makes a man think I want to stay here and put up with your bull shit more than making him sleep somewhere else.
A chorus that amounted to shut the fuck up rang out.
Me – “So you kicked him out because when he admitted to being attracted to another woman? And you’re the one who brought it up right?”
High Drama Wife – “You’re damn right I kicked him out” another soliloquy on having had children “for him”.
Now I’m an asshole and a moron but I think in America women have the ability to decide to have children…or not.
Me – “that’s brilliant. Kick him out for a simply natural reaction. Most men will now be where ever with said woman fucking her six ways from Sunday. And why not you attacked him for being human. Odds are if it’s not the one you’re losing your mind over it will be a different woman in less than a week.”
A Choir of rage an hatred that can be summed up into – “Fucking asshole!”
Me – yep. It’s a well documented fact I’m a fucking asshole.
Another chorus that amounted to shut the fuck up broke out.
Me – Monogamy is stupid.
Some stunned silence, some still challenging my fucked up view of the situation, others consoling my poor wife.
I exit stage left and head to the liquor store to buy the group more hooch,
Truth is I give a lot of bad marriage advice. Sex life isn’t working. Try to fix it then trade out, up, or add another partner.
Husband doesn’t appreciate you, ignores you etc. – Pull the rip cord and get the fuck out.
I’ve lost lifelong friends over honest answers to what I thought of their partners and or future spouse.
Look my own choices are just that mine. The Blonde and I have very different views on the world yet somehow manage to make it work civilly if not well (most of the time). She does believe that monogamy is normal. I don’t and think Poly makes perfect sense. Most people can’t separate love and sex…once their out of college or say “I Do”.
Hell other than PIV i’m from the Bill Clinton school of sexual relations. It’s fun, it may be sexual but it is not in the biblical sense actually sex. Then again I think rope can just be rope and not have a sexual element to it. I think impact play can be like pick up basketball and I accept that my views aren’t main stream and don’t pretend they are.
So if you want to make things worse than they already are come to me. I excel at bad Marriage advice.
Postlude – So Lil overheard/was present for a conversation the Blonde and I about this. It was a difficult thing for me because TCB was in part in alignment with the wife in question. She was emotional about it and thought the wife while overly dramatic had a legitimate concern. And those feeling are valid. I was diametrically opposed. Granted the couple in question are a “normal” couple. I’m not the best judge of what that should mean to others who don’t see the world though an open lens. I freely admit I understand the rules of kink, swingers, and Poly folks far better than the variances in a traditional relationship. Ironically Lil told me that I have an ability to compartmentalize my life that most others don’t. to separate Work, Personal, Love, Sex, kink and relationships into different boxed. Apparently that is unique. I’m just a special kind of fucked up as usual.
A few weeks back i saw the prompt for Wicked Wednesday was about Three Ways. What a hot topic and all but impossible to pass up. So of course weeks later i’ve got this post as close to right as I can.
As a young man a three way was a notch i wanted on my bed post as soon as i learned the term “ménage à trois”. And for the times and my age was not surprisingly a quick study. I got that notch on the bed post, the merit badge, and did post graduate studies on the matter.
Sure I could tell stories about three ways. Ot one i woul like to have. Let’s face it at this point in life a three way sex scene is either a made for tv movie scene, something you see on a crime show, or punch line in a comedy. Unless of course you’ve actually had them.
Instead let’s look at the three way in terms of kink and the relationship between Me, Alice, and Lord Raven. In case you’re new to this little perverted corner of cyber space Raven and Alice are married, she wears his collar and all the other DS trappings that go with such an arrangement (of course i mean that in the nicest possible way) Chips dips chaims and whips…or paddles and floggers and wartenberg wheels oh my. Anyhow.
Then there is me…the third piece of the puzzle. It is a unique arrangement…Alice and I knew each other before her and Raven. Which in a waybis a huge fuck you to my Kindergarten teacher whobsaid i was “unwilling and in capable of sharing”. Yep good old Mal was a pre negotiated arrangement into the relationship which is something iam grateful for. And as complicated and dangerous as it may sound it works perfectly. Neither LR or me are the possive type. Often when I’m going to be around I check schedules with him before Alice and adjust my plans when possible accordingly.
Inside of a scene being an obsessive planner we’ve discussed “the plan” and being the evil fucks we are have been torturing Alice long before the actual play starts. It’s ok she (for the most part) loves it.wait three ways are about sex right? To which I say not always. In fact ours is about friendship and certianly kink but not necessarily sex and only sex..
Granted none of this is a typical three way. It is more than folks just having a wanton fuck…not that there is anything wrong with that. Yes we (LR and I) co top scenes and have a very natural rythm between both of us and Alice. She loads his mind with wants and desires. In some cases they are filtered to me and like a good studious well planned sadist her fantasies and dark desires are brought out when least expected.
Now for the really tricky part Alice tolerating my other relationships. The Blonde who is my wife she will express her thoughts on when i need it. It is always done with the best of intentions and out of concern for me. It works wonderfully in that case. The others as they come and go in my life as they seem to do from time to time evokes a bit of jealousy and concern. She’s protective of me and part of what makes this all work is the communication. Our little three way husband, wife, and evil fucker. Master, Sub, and sadist by proxy.
So a few words of explanation about my use of the word Jealousy. It evoked a reaction in Alice as i had her read this prior to posting. This is an unusual practice for us. The intention in using the word is in reference to the fact I know and acknowledge at times despite being unwavering in her support for me that she is disappointed that all of us don’t get more time together and i acknowledge I am the cause of that. So while i’ve chosen to leave the intial wording in the previous paragraph her reaction isnout of hope amd love amd desire fornwjat is best for me.
Nothing is ever perfect but our arrangement works for us. Our nontraditional take on non traditional arrangements. Its something that in ways shapes and forms i’ve found myself in time and again. But there are unique challenges to every arrangement. I am a quirky over committed, type A. And that is before you add in my bad qualities. So for one reason or another they end. Friends are lost, interests change, i fuck things up or a million other things.
The reason it has worked with Alice amd LR as long as it has is we’re friends outside of kink. We are friends one in one and as a group. We understand each others strengths and for me they understand my complicated life and limits.
So not a traditional three way. Trois done differently as if you’d expect anything different.
What you Meant Was…
Sometimes we can’t help but send mixed messages and then hilarity or disaster ensues. Like when i was out with the Blonde a few weeks back and she whispered across the table “i won’t be in these jeans much longer.” Of course being who i am told her that’s fantastic and i was very much looking forward to it.
Suddenly she looked very angry. “Since when do you comment like that about my weight?” Not being one who always knows what is really being said replied with “what the fuck you were just talking about getting naked! I didn’t say anything about your weight.” As she processed it she sat back smiled and then admitted not only would any comment about anyone’s body be out of character for me but she implied she’d be out of any article of clothing would only mean one thing to me…SEX
This past weekend through a series of harmless misadventures involving dropped items, tight hips and flip flops i found a woman kneeling in front of me admittedly rather unexpectedly. “Are you going to help me up?” she asked. I looked at her just long enough to cause a little concern ” i supposed so. Too bad secretly I was hoping you finally gave in to an over whelming urge to blow me. No you go” Her cheeks flushed dark red with embarrassment. It appears she had realized the some what sexual nature of her position and posture if not before but after it was brought up. Sadly there were no oral favors; just an awkward exchange. For the record the woman in question is always making lewd but harmless overtures at me. It was simple my turn and well with in the rules of our game.
So if and when dealing with me assume anything you can and do say will be viewed through my perverted lens unless appropriate and clear instructions are given before hand.
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.
If you’ve not met me in person by most estimates it looks like I should be the schmuck delivering an earnings statement. The world is a diverse place and mine more so than many. Sitting in a private dining room in a posh London eatery. The kind of place where dinner starts at 100 quid a head ($160 USD) the conversation turned away from the business of the day, the problems of the world, and family to our vices. Men of any means always have vices even if it is simply too much piety, devotion, or faith. Most though are far more fun than that. One gent raced cars, another sailed, some professed their love for wine, whiskey and horses. They talked of expensive trips, lost weekends, and other things men of a certain status and means tend to move toward. Other types of indulgences including chemical were broached (the drugs of choice Viagra, Testosterone, Lipitor, vitamins, and sleeping pills). Andy Warhol we are not. Then came boring old me. Not much of a drinker, perceived as a picture of conservative bliss. Oh they all know I’m a freak show intellectually with certain types of data. When pressed for my “true detractors” since German sedans, suits, and books were deemed not vices at all since they aren’t bad for a person. I quipped then “Bread, Coca Cola, and beautiful women”.
In a way they were disappointed, but they also failed to ask a single question. Rather than ask about lurid tales with morally questionable females they talked about bread. Instead of capitalizing on the fact that if there is an event with a thousand men and four women I will have two of them with me in one way or another throughout, in fact my reputation for that is legendary. So of course this story was shared with one of those beautiful women and astute as always she cut right to the chase “If they only realized how many vices women hold for you.” Now Imagine me sitting at a desk smiling like the devil in a darkened room with a city going by outside my window reading that response. Ironically she may not realize that she’s one of the most powerful vices of all…brilliant, beautiful, and very special friend who in a unique way is now very integrated into my day to day life.
Women come in many flavors. Beyond shapes and sizes, blondes and brunettes, tall and short, ethnicity but more importantly there those I observes, those to cavort and flirt with, play partners are as wonderful, fun, and special as they all are they pale in comparison to those that I genuinely communicate with and let into my fucked up version of life. It has been written here before and said to me very often in my vanilla life that I’m an intensely private person. In many ways it fits. Most interactions are facts and figures, theories and strategies, not at all personal. Most people know what I think but not truly who I am or the things that life actual entails.
Recently while attending a performance of the absurdist play “Rhinoceros” there was a line that went “things don’t usually end well for people who choose to remain unique individuals.” No matter how on the inside one seems to be I view myself as an outsider to the larger group for the same reason it’s essential to surviving as a unique individual. The importance of only keeping a close small circle of friends who truly know who I am, what I do, and what I really think remains a legacy of my youth. It was covered in another post on changes and demands for focus and time are increasing. The pace of life went from hectic to nonstop. And the ability to take as few hours and spend it with friends is all but gone. “The Mini One” and her partner gives me that. The ability to be with her in her world, to simply be me with no demands or expectations, to be included in parts of their life and them in mine for a few days or few hours. To be more or less a normal person is such a rare and wonderful treat for me. Victoria (one of my oldest friends) told me…”she’s good for you, she doesn’t buy into your superficial answers and redirection. Most people don’t stand a chance. You turn them inside out and spin them in circles, leave them begging, and they love you even more for it. Yet she makes you think and question all while looking for the real answer…and probably actually gets it. In fact I’m envious.”
Once you reach a certain point in my world around here you often get a nick name; to protect the innocent or better yet maybe the guilty. So beyond a first reference in a post a while back I suspect that the Mini One will surface here time and again as a partner in crime, secret travel companion, and friend. Every friendship and relationship is unique. And despite everything whether the Mini One knows it or not…though I suspect she is well aware. She is powerful weakness for me, a beloved friend, a beautiful temptation, a seemingly endless series of fantasies, and of course a vice completely and utterly unique unto herself. And on a good day I may be a few of those things to her as well.
Last year for a Kink of the Week on the topic on real punishment I said clearly it was not part of my dynamic. However looking back on some recent play maybe I was (very) arrogant in saying that. We played..HARD. It was safe, it was sane and yes it was consensual. It appeared a good time was had by all. We had played harder in the bygone era but when really examining the scene with a bit of distance after a few other conversations (a forth coming post on connections will explain more) and then bending both Raven and Alice’s ears I should say more accurately when looking back I was a little bit distant.
She was being punished by me and not playfully in the “oh you’re such a naughty girl” role/word play and banter kind of way I like. In fact this time around nothing of that ilk was ever uttered. Nor did I say I’m about to do X to you because you did Y or I’m… whatever I was (hurt, disappointed, etc) . Yet from the very first lick that bit into her bared flesh at an intense force with no warm up and the ones that followed, for every mark, welt, and bruise maybe there was something more to it.
Without knowing it at the time maybe it was delivered as a punishment; something that even if unspoken perhaps was not only deserved but required discipline. Looking back perhaps both my distance and my delivery were in fact a punishment in and of themselves. Retribution for shutting me out so many times without warning, explanation, or apology, for repeatedly not standing up for our (long) relationship when other shiny baubles appeared, a million other little things, and a few perhaps not so little ones.
Even though the word was never said as I laid into her coldly and mechanically not as part of a scene where I got to be the brooding cruel asshole that I love to be (on occasion) but because of something much more real. This was not a mind fuck, it was not about pushing limits or being edgy or even just playing hard. It was as much about my emotions and head space as anything even if I didn’t know it at the time. In fact it was in retrospect without a doubt a punishment that was delivered.
And even though there were no complaints an uncomfortable conversation a day later about other topics not at all related to the previous play made me begin to wonder. It was then that I started look at the two meetings in a different light. So after some thought and with her states away again I did what adults do. I called her not relish the glory of the scene, or wallow in what was and had passed, or even simply to check in in fact those things had already occurred but to specifically ask.
“I needed you to…(deleted/edited by Mal prior to publishing for a variety of reasons)” was her reply. A lot of conversation led to in the past we had played in a way that she wanted to feel genuinely punished (ironically she was the person I had referred to in the KOTW post) and I played the role (very willingly) at times. The difference was I was simply playing at my kink to meet her needs, it was her own perceived misdeeds that led to those scenes. I was just the asshole top who she chose to be with. This time she had the same feelings but they pertained to me, so the same need was there this time and it was tied to our friendship. For me without realizing it at the time I wasn’t simply playing and neither was she even though that’s what we said we were doing when making the arrangements.
So she wanted to feel punished. I’d like to say I picked up on that. That somehow I’m so fucking awesome that I just knew and simply fell into the role she wanted but that would be a lie. Even if I didn’t know it then I do now and looking back I don’t like how it felt or how even now it makes me feel. So I may do punishment after all but I still don’t like it or how it makes me feel…even if I’m the one dishing it out.
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.
This past week was to be a wonderful time. Mistress Victoria and The Key Limey (a lovely woman originally from Manchester with a penchant for Key Lime margaritas hence her nick name) all were set to have dinner in Gotham Tuesday night.
It had been last May since the three of us were altogether, to say I was excited is an understatement. Monday night I get an email “Drinks @ 6:30 Dinner @ 7:30 the reservation is for 9”. Now I may not be a rocket scientist but even I know that 9 is literally 3 times more than 3. And so our quaint dinner became a wonderful little party. All the members of which I knew at least in passing with the exception of one; a large mean looking guy originally from London, but we’ll get back to that fellow in a bit.
No worries, new friends are good right? I’ve mentioned this before but it bears repeating. I’m not a physically affectionate person with strangers and acquaintances (excluding people where hugging and kissing is a cultural greeting then I play along, a la France, some Canadians, any host shot from L.A.). If I hug you it’s because you’re someone I’m very comfortable with( if you hug me I will reciprocate and be fine with it but I won’t initiate) , if I kiss you even on the cheek (not an air kiss but lips meet flesh kiss) you are someone I truly trust.
I enter the eatery second from the last arrive. The group has left the bar area and are all seated at the table. Greetings are exchanged and a few of the ladies hug and kiss me; two of them English and a nice Jewish Grand Mother. Then Victoria and I simply say hello since we’d seen each other before getting into the car however she made it inside far ahead of me and was already situated.
Conversations began and then a bit later the Limey arrived. When she got to me I took her in my arms, gave her a giant lingering hug and kissed her back after she had kissed me. Fair is fair. I sat back down as she flitted on to the next person and that’s when I caught it. The death stare, one that was silently screaming DIE YOU FUCKING YANKEE BASTARD, or something like that with its searing speechless intensity. All of it pointed like a laser beam of hatred in my direction by the Londoner. I tried to ignore it but the fuck just kept staring angrily at me. So I did what I do best just smiled and waved at him but opting to use all five fingers and not just the middle one.
Finally one of the women leaned in and asked “what did you do to him?” After a brief pause offered “I don’t know, I came to dinner? Was on the side that won the Revolutionary War, fucked his sister in the ass and didn’t call? Really no clue!”
Some time and several drinks later he seemed to mellow and the evening wore on without incident and was truly a great time as we talked about travel, and books; music and business. Families and lovers were discussed. People began to scatter eventually leaving 4 women and me at the table.
The topic of the stares came back up. One guest offered “I bet he was just jealous you were covered in all those English women’s kisses”
Eventually the Limey, Victoria and I would wonder away into the warm night but those words kept ringing sweetly in my ears.