My Ongoing Amusement, Craigslist

With my girl on the bed enjoying a book and my endless narrative, I find this headine and ad...nothing more to be added. uckin' a, that's funny.

8:30 lets meet up and uck asap - m4w - 28 (Port-Bvt Area)

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Reply to: blah blah
Date: 2008-12-31, 8:27PM PST


Well Im pretty chill laid back love to puff 420, Im into all type of girls so race and age dont matter as long as u look good.

Late

New Year Story for a boy

This evening, I am hosting a small gathering of intimates. Since my girl is visiting, we are at a hotel, as I've just moved and haven't settled in. In the suite, friends, a mix of women and men are talking, noshing, generally being the smart, entertaining nutballs they are. I put this group together with an eye toward the best comedy among my crowd, knowing that I would sit back and laugh all night. I have my computer up, and as they are used to me taking notes, it is of little consequence and not intrusive or rude.

I am imagining you here, to help us bring in the New Year. I know that the men friends will leave early, off to pursue more vigorous celebrations, leaving Mari, Ami, Amelia, Kat, and me. All these friends would know the particulars of my life and so you would be serving through the evening. As the men left, I would tell you to undress and put on your apron. Each of my women friends is enlightened and, while neither Mari, Ami, nor Kat is an FLR proponent, they are certainly appreciative of the male form, and they love me and always learn from the coloring outside the lines of my life. When not serving, you would be kneeling by my side. I would notice that Kat had a sore ankle, and direct you to her to rub her foot. She would be very loquacious at your strong hands and appreciative of your efforts. I would smile to see her pleased.

Mari is my dearest friend of lo, these many years. Ami is a few years our senior, and we've known one another since college. The two of them are straight and vanilla, also very strong and independent, brilliant and beautiful. Ami is Irish and one of the most hysterically funny women I know. A linguist, she regularly spices up a conversation with a brogue that switches into a country twang, and then I'm back at my cowgirl roots and we are off on another tangent. Through this, I would ask you to lay your hands on Mari's neck. I could see her hunching her shoulders and know that she has yet again worked at her computer until she can't un-hunch. your fingers would work out her knots.

For company, the CB6 would be off, and you would wear pink panties, which would highlight your erection at every contact. I would touch you discretely when you passed me, just keeping you excited. amelia would be some vexed, not quite knowing where to be or how, as the recent change in our relationship still has her struggling a bit for her new space. Not slave, not submissive, although still wanting both, nevertheless, she would look admiring at you and see the smile on my face and she would be pleased.

Near the midnight hour, I tell you to please go to the table and take off your apron and lie on your back. Perplexed, you comply, of course, not before noting the wicked grins on Kat, Amelia's and my face, and the blush on Mari's and Ami's.

Naked on the table (laid with a black cloth for the evening) you wait. amelia comes in and brings fruit and begins laying it on your belly. Kat brings chocolate sauce (these are women, there must therefore be chocolate, although I do not share that seemingly universal love), and decorates the fruit. Ami brings berries, adds them to your belly. The fruit is cool, the sensation bring gooseflesh. Each of us sits at the table and I pass champagne to each of them. I raise my glass and say, "To my beloved women, may 2009 bring you shalom -- the peace that derives from ha-o-lam, from wholeness. May you enjoy high adventure, low brow humor, and absolute health. And, right now, please enjoy your dessert off my fine platter. Je vous salute!"

They toast, drink, and begin sopping up the chocolate along your skin, teasing you mercilessly. amelia is boldest and dribbles chocolate on your manhood, then leans in to taste it with her tongue. (she has served as the dessert tray many a time and is delighted to be one of the diners rather than the tray). Kat is soon licking your nipples as Mari and Ami contain themselves to the fruit. I am standing at your head, watching my friends enjoy their dessert, mind steps ahead to the dessert that awaits me.

The women are full of champagne, fruit, and chocolate. you are sticky and stiff. The ladies take their leave, heading home to beat the craziness on the roads. I tell you to shower and come back to me. This is the 10th day since last I allowed your release. In that span of time, you have been teased by my friends, have serviced me with your tongue on several occasions, and I have played with your backside to near release every day. you are battling your brain, thinking surely tonight.....but, you have learned that even though I plan and you can sometimes guess outcomes, my quick devious Gemini brain loves to surprise. So, you try hard to not imagine when next....

Out of the shower, you come to me, and before you kneel, I slip the PA out of the tip of your manhood and tell you to get on the bed, on all fours. I bring the blindfold because I want you to focus on sensation, not visual stimuli. you hear me stepping into my strapon and you try to relax. I am glad to be tall, but wish I had a couple more inches of reach. you are required to wear your hair long enough for me to be able to grab it when I wish. I am not natively Sadistic, evil from time to time, yes, but pain is a thing about which I am circumspect. Forceful firmness, absolutely. I want to control you, simply, and for you to feel overpowered. I begin narrating as you feel me at your backside, lube, fingers, slowly opening you. "pet, feel My strength....try to get away....struggle..." you do not. I smack your butt and say, "STRUGGLE!" you try to get away, flattening, and immediately, I'm on top of you, have you in a camel clutch. I only hold you for a moment, not wanting truly to subdue you, simply to make certain you know that I could..."good boy, love, now come back up." you are breathing hard and now, I notice, fully turgid. I lightly rub your manhood and go back to my former place at your backside. "open for me, boy, take me inside you...." you feel My cock opening you and soon, you feel me against your prostate, teasing, driving you crazy. I can FEEL you warring with yourself, wanting to not achieve release this way, wanting a deeper connection. I bring you close several times and back off, you moan softly, sweating lightly. Finally, I slowly withdraw. "turn over, pet," I whisper as I take off the blindfold.

you comply and I lay the length of you, softly playing my hand across your chest. I love to play you, and spend a lot of time doing so. Tonight, though, away from the busy-ness of our lives, I want to mark the passing of the year, our first together. "may I serve you, Ma'am?" "no, john, just be still. Kiss me, pet." The kiss is the beginning of a conversation, the first step in the lovers' dance. I am taken with how well you've learned to listen, and that shows in your kiss. The call and response of my tongue to yours, I lick your lips, nibble them, pulling gently, then begin thrusting my tongue rhythmically in your mouth, slow, then steadily faster, deeper. As I do so, your pelvis begins to rock softly, and I feel myself engorge. I am hungry for you, pet. without breaking the kiss, I swing on top of you and take you inside of me, pushing down onto you. you reach up and we embrace hard, you half sitting up as I ride you. I am very careful to not ride too fast, although that takes a Herculean effort. I separate from you and put my hands on your shoulders and my breast in your mouth, cooing to you, "That's good, boy, harder, yes, good..."

I then lean and take your nipples, each in turn, in my mouth, teasing and sucking them. you groan and push against me, and I stop, again, trying to prolong the coupling. I look down at you, flushed, sweating, and find myself with tears in my eyes that wash down over you. I am still trying to wrap my brain around the reality of you. you catch the emotion and smile softly. I say, "john, thank you for your service, dear pet. Happy New Year." leaning in again to kiss you, this time, I tighten on you and ride hard, fast, and begin to shake as your manhood plunges again and again inside me, triggering my own release. you feel the spasms gripping you and I say, "Yes! Give Me your gift, boy, NOW!"

Kissing you, you scream into my mouth, shock wave after shock wave rocking your body.

Until finally, spent, heart racing, you relax.

I straighten out lying still mostly on top, feeling you slip out, sighing.

I wrap my hand around your manhood and we fall asleep, sated, in ways that neither of us could have imagined.

Eroticism of Sound

Chain clanking against metal as a restraned arm struggles and tests
SMACK as palm meets bared ass
Rhythmic thud as the flogger repeatedly hits its target
A tremulous "yes, Mistress" whispered in the middle of the night
A deep throated groan that turns to a scream in orgasmic release

Sound. The bass line of an erotic dance.

As A Rule

Life provides reminders when we pay attention. A recent reminder is a simple, simple one.

Always do my best.

When something that I deeply desire presents itself on my path and I have an opportunity to get it, will I organize myself well and mount a full court press, or will I fall back on my arrogance and make a less than stellar effort? In watching another of late in a situation similar, I scratch my head and am almost embarrassed by that less than stellar effort. I resolve hereby at this moment to keep sharp and bless the clarity of vision I have when I have it.

Gifts come with responsibilities.

May we all keep sharp and do our best, as a rule, not an exception.

Winter Solstice

I don't remember a Solstice that looked this wintry -- certainly not in the nearly two decades during which I've resided in the northwest. The snow drifts form an irregular pattern on the yard -- like a restless lover's bunched up blankets my bed.

This shortest day yielding to the returning of the light is the favorite day of the year in this quarter. The simple analogy of darkness yielding to light, and the blessed reality, the returning of more light in the long winter compel me to gratitude.

Understand holidays, leastwise those based in the retail environment, eludes me. Weary head scratch. The Solstices and the Equinoxes wherein something actually happens that isn't human created -- are the days that evoke deepest contemplations.

Yin/Yang

He is strong, deeply intelligent, engaged in the world, well spoken and well traveled, firmly suited in his maleness. She is beautiful in the way that stops you, and incredibly shy. All femme, she is, but for a bit of plumbing. When I look at him, I do not see her, and when I look at her, there is, perhaps, a flash of him. When I go inside the male, I feel her; when I touch inside her, I feel them each as well.

En femme, she is coltish, younger than her years. But for the shyness, she would be commanding and graceful, despite her submissiveness. Her style is hip and cheeky, as though she wants to flaunt tradition and combine several styles. The result is ... delightful. She REALLY gets makeup. He is blessed with a face that, sans makeup, is absolutely male, with eyes that are witchy in their intensity. Her makeup takes about as long to apply as does my own. Fifteen minutes to make a transition. Stunning.

I freely admit a deep interest in and fascination with cross dressers. Gender bending, androgyny, drag; the increasing fluidity with which sexuality is defined by every person who engages in the exercise is an incredible opening of our sense of possibility.

My angst is in the still institutionalized and heavily practiced misunderstanding and condemnation of those who blur up the lines. I wish everyone who has another person living inside who screams to be freed is able to give voice -- and life -- to that part of ourselves. It is my Pollyanna idealist self who thinks that every one of us can help soften up the edges of fear and misunderstanding by simply articulating our comfort with fuzzing the lines. A girl with a surprise under her skirt is ALWAYS welcome here.

Call in Straight.Ish

Today is Call in Gay Day, to honor queers and to show how our absence from the community would MATTER, and of course, to protest the passage of Measure 8 in CA and homophobic laws in AZ and wherethehelleverelse.

Since I'm bisexual, I called in for half a day.

Some Notes About A Girl

She has been in my life now since 1992. That's quite a stretch of time. She has been my girl on the side, my lover, my slave, and my friend. I've watched her grow from being a tough, very rough around the edges butch-dyke kid to being a capable, lovely, sweet, intelligent feminine woman. Ours has been a rocky, rocky path. I am incredibly hard to live with (and I don't just mean co-habitate), and very unforgiving of boundary breaches. Somehow I have made space for forgiveness with her on several occasions, as she has for me. I don't believe that there has been another soul in the world to whom I've granted such impunity. There's just something about this girl...

To look in her eyes and see the magnitude of her love is purely daunting, even still. I cannot keep looking there, because it is not in me to fully return that kind of love -- not, I believe, to anyone. My independence keeps me isolated, demands that I hold back from full engagement. She pays a price for this dance, this I know. And yet, she is still here. To be loved unconditionally, without reserve, it is not a thing for which I'd ever ask or seek. But, it is the gift she gives me. She will no longer let me hurt her heart, as she has grown into the fullness of her adulthood. For this, I am deeply grateful.

For my part, I give my best. I try to share my life without inviting her in to places I know that I will regret letting someone share. That's a thing I am slowly learning. As a solitary being, I have to work my discipline and NOT open places where I know, ultimately, I will want to keep private. She has suffered my clumsiness in this regard. That is my own journey with grace. How does one live a private life without unwittingly offending those I love by keeping private? A definite work in progress.

She is coming for Christmas. Neither of us celebrates Christmas, but we will celebrate one another during these sweet days as we partake in whatever adventures I concoct and in which she is happily complicit. I'm looking forward to sweet sleepy muzzy mornings with the crossword puzzles and her soft body, so ready for my touch. She's a gift, and I love her.

Listening Through the Silence

As a verbal, wordy, reasonably articulate person who is blessed and cursed with clarity most all the time (with notable lapses!), one of my biggest communications challenges is relating to those for whom words are NOT the effortless form of expression I know them to be. As a Dominant, in an intimate engagement, I rely on my ability to get inside someone's head, their heart, and deeper still if our energies work together to make that possible. Certainly, words are an essential vehicle to facilitate that drive. But, when the other cannot call forth words...?

There are a LOT of ways to listen. I pretty much do the world through my ears. Taking words out of the equation, I am forced to employ my weakest sense, my eyes. I always pay some level of visual attention, but truthfully, my visual acuity is laughable. In the silence, however, my eyes wake up. I see textures, I watch (in addition to hear) breathing. I scrutinize facial expression.

My second most finely tuned sense is my visceral/kinesthetic sense. When words go away, I deeply rely on my gut. I love operating with this sense as primary. It is amazing, so long as the person that I am "hearing" is energetically on a wave length onto which I can grab, that's a gift. I appreciate the challenge of the silent language, and I confess my worry that I will miss something.

As a D, confessing an insecurity is vexsome. There's a balance between imbuing a feeling of security for one's s and in speaking a truth. Setting expectations is important. "I need for you to stay at least present enough to give me some mileposts along this journey. I know words are not going to hold you in good stead, so you need to find another way to speak to me. If you do not, I will stop." And so the dance becomes much more subtle. A touch of a hand on my arm, very light, a flex of muscles, toward me, away from me. A call and response, asked and answered. Sweet.

Still, I am edgy to HEAR the words. And always, I am grateful for the lesson.

I STILL Can't Help Myself...

A followup to the last post. CL headline.

Man in plutonic marriage seeking woman in same situation

Can't Help Myself

Craigslist is an amazing resource. Sell stuff, buy stuff, find jobs, services, lovers, you name it. It's also on my short list for entertainment. The creative use of language is a never ending crackup. Today's grin:

You Must Be:

Over 30
Have Car
Have Job
Clean
And Able To Host A Fun Time At Your House At Your Discrepancy.

Truth is most always funnier than fiction.

Life is good.