I've recently reinvigorated my sex life after nearly 2 years of solo escapades. We have oddly found a formula that works, but is never quite the same.

The general idea is outlined below. He also asked if I'd written about our sex yet. I said no... he said it would be kinda hot. So, with that seed planted... Now maybe he'll visit the site and read

1. Text message or call to confirm we're still on. This goes either way.

2. Quick shower, stop at convenience store for caffeinated beverage then 12-13 minute drive.

3. Park in his driveway.

The tale is as old as time. Countries ripped apart all over sex. Relationships based solely on sex. Jealousy over sex, who's getting it, who's not. Billions of dollars on pornography, condoms, prostitution (legal or otherwise) based solely on sex.

But it's not just the sex, it's the foreplay. The moments leading up to the sex. The hunt. The dance.

This was originally posted on fetlife 9 days ago:

As unique as the fetish lists that grace our profile pages are the people we play with. Something innocuous as a flogging seems to be as many shades of the rainbow as, well, a rainbow.

The tiny details make some difference, sure, but it's not just the deer hide vs. the buffalo. Not the 22 falls vs. 122. Not the weird ass music or smells of new paint.

Tomorrow: Saturday 4.14.12 I'm gonna celebrate on cam with y'all. I'll be on from 1pm to 5pm mountain standard time. No guarantees on nudity or seeing my feline, but I'll be there.

Perhaps we can have story time for old times sake, or whatever?

Can't wait to celebrate with y'all!!!

-pip

I was on my way to bed when I realized what seems like a pattern. A disturbing pattern.

We all have opinions! Weeeeeee, the spice of life. We differ in opinions by the thickness of a Webster's dictionary page. And we know I love me some dictionaries

There is an issue with the disagreement of opinion and attacks on character lately. To disagree with a point of view is not the same as attacking someone's character. Tearing down a person because you disagree seems like the lowest common denominator in an argument.

So, I've been in a lot of discussion lately. Probably the most diverse, challenging fun and aggravating than I've had in a long time. No need to thank you all by name, you know who you are I love it all!!!!

Through these discussions a few things have been pointed out to me... or more accurately pressed with force into me. It has been said that I enjoy my time here so much, but also that as much I gleen everyday from the regulars, I love helping anyone with a questions. Whether it has to do with the lifestyle, this site or just with baking recipes.

Yeah! My One Year Anniversary is fast approaching

It seems so very long ago and so near.

All the people. All the pictures. All the chat.

I'm trying to think of something appropriate to commemorate 365 days being openly kinky. Okay, openly kinky online still counts to me! It took several more weeks to meet a special person to show me pain in real life and only in private and for a very short time period, but, the fact remains.

I would love to celebrate and give back to all of you in someway!

Something else I hadn't considered.

People ask me how many hits with the cane was that? Honestly how the hell do I know?! I have no clue! I was writhing and processing, just waiting for the next with dread and greedy desire. There was no negotiation besides I wanted it below the 'x' and above mid thigh. I wanted hard hits and very little warm up. He had two metal canes and one ratan one. He used the metal for just light thwacks to get the area warm, get the blood flowing.

I got whipped for the first time last Friday.

Of course I approached it with trepidation and curiosity, probably more calm than I've been in negotiating a scene to this point. This would be the first time playing with this Dom but I was confident in his ability and information. I had seen him in a flogging and spanking scenario before and have been attending monthly classes on varying bdsm topics.

This is based, or a kind of adaptation of "Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" by Frost.

Admittedly, someone asked me what I thought of the poem... this is what first came to mind:

Whose bed this is I think I know
his wife is in the talent show
She will not see me there
To watch his head fill with dew

My throbbing button must think it odd
To focus so near on stupid clod
From her to him I feel dark
The most insignificant kind of nod

He flashes that familiar smirk
To confirm the same cloudy murk
A quiet still tunnel forms
Of focused moment they both partook