Oct 262014
 

Boots and cuffsThere are some really great things about being polyamorous. One of them was coming home around one in the morning (wearing only knee high boots and bondage cuffs) and having my partner, Joel, only cock an eyebrow and ask if I had a good time.

I had a fabulous time with DW! When I showed up at his door the kissing was passionate and intense. It lead to me, on my knees, appreciating the finer points of button-fly Levis. And then to DW buckling handcrafted black leather cuffs around my wrists. It made me very happy.

Cuffs and bootsWe went to a party full of poly folk. I realized how odd and awesome it is to not know who people are in relationships with. It’s different than most social situations where everyone is seen as part of a package. In fact, it felt strange for me to be at a party without one of my primary partners.

That didn’t stop me from ditching my clothes as soon as possible. I joined a cuddle pile. DW tied me up in beautiful ways and did things that made me come. I got the spanking I asked for, with people passing by the room. Have I mentioned that I like to kiss this man? When it was time to go, DW shook his head when I picked up my clothes, handing me his leather jacket instead. It felt deliciously deviant to go home that way!

So yes, Joel, I had a good time.
Sinful Sunday

Oct 192014
 

Kyle,

In my fantasy you show up at my hotel room, sweeping me off my feet with your suave and dapper style, but it’s Daddy’s hand on my backside that makes me melt. I can’t stop kissing you. I want you in my mouth. Oh Kyle, we only have a few hours. Whatever will we do?

At the hotel door

First kiss

Taste you
Under your boot
Spank me Daddy
Tongues and teeth
Nipples
Grind like this
Take me now
On my knees for you
In your mouth
Your chest

Sweet in your arms

 

(Special thanks to Kyle from Butchtastic for helping me to shoot this fantasy sequence! Stay tuned to see what happens when a couple of gender queered sex-positive bloggers get wild. There’s lots of kissing, talking, giggling, and strap-on wars…)

Sinful Sunday

Aug 252014
 

Love the tuxedoWhen I look in the mirror I am usually pretty happy with what I see. I like my body, my hair, my face – but sometimes I get frustrated when what I see doesn’t fit with how I feel inside. I like being female, but there are times when I feel very male. I struggle with how to present myself as a male. How do I express who I am as a man?

I recently fulfilled a long time fantasy to dress as the man I see myself as and it was really pretty much a perfect evening. I had so much fun! My friends got married and held a masquerade ball. (Congrats guys!) The invitations said, “dress to impress” and I immediately thought about wearing a tuxedo. I’ve always wanted to wear a tux. It seems the epitome of men’s fashion, suave and debonair. What could be sexier?

I fetishize tuxedos to such an extent that just picking up the tux gave me a high like participating in a BDSM scene for a couple of hours. I went to the Tuxedo Club in Kirkland and they were amazing. I had a lot of anxiety going in because I worried that it wouldn’t be right. I was there for over an hour while they explained each piece. I love the details – cufflinks, spats, pocket watches and such. They worked with me to make sure that I had exactly what I wanted in a tuxedo. I left feeling exhilarated.

DW and EvoeI wanted the perfect date for this wedding reception, so I invited DW. I got dressed at his house and he was full of useful information, like tips on how to better use a compression vest to bind my breasts. (“Pull together and you’ve got cleavage, pull up and out toward the armpits and you’ve got pecs.”) I am so grateful to DW for all of his graceful instruction and sense of humor. He also looks damn hot in a tux.

We had fun at the party. I saw people I hadn’t seen in years, and a few of them didn’t recognize me! I felt amazing: strong, sexy, grounded. DW and I got increasingly friskier, groping each other surreptitiously while everyone focused on the bride and groom cutting the cake. It felt good when his fingers brushed against my clit, but I kept wishing that I had decided to pack so he could feel my cock.

DW and Evoe kissingWe left while the night was still young. We stopped at a grocery store because DW insisted on getting me food I could eat, something that earns him a hundred gold stars in my book. Walking through the store in a tux made the experience real. I was not just going to a costume party, I was in public. It was awesome. I want to own a tux so I can put it on to run to the grocery store. (After 5:00 p.m. of course, as DW pointed out.)

Once we had taken off the tuxedos and I had eaten, we retired to the bedroom. DW has a perfect way about him. I feel comfortable and I trust him, which makes it possible (just barely) for me to submit to him. He brings me right up to the point where I would have to stop. I find myself sitting in uncomfortable places that I would not normally tolerate with anyone else. And then I feel amazing afterward. This man has incredible skill.

Pre masquerade He called me “boy” the entire time. I dropped to my knees in front of him. He urged me to take his cock deeper and deeper into my throat, slapping my face when I didn’t try hard enough. I gagged and tears ran down my face, but I eventually found my rhythm.

He wrapped his fingers in my hair and dragged me to the bed. He bent me over the edge and bit my back while I squirmed in protest. He was gone briefly then came back with what I think was a belt. He used it to encourage me to use proper responses to his attentions. It sounded like this: “SMACK. (breath, breath, moan…) Yes Daddy! SMACK. (sucked in breath, exhale) Yes Daddy!” Between the belt and his hand I started to get the hang of it.

Our play got gentler after that. I did more cock sucking. We snuggled. I orgasmed. He is a fabulous kisser. He wove incredible fantasies for me. He rolled me over and fucked me hard, like I had been wanting in a desperate kind of way. I also wanted him to come all over me, so he straddled my hips. We took turns with lube and his cock. He talked dirty to me (cuz I’m a dirty boy). I played with his nipples and really felt like a boy. I could feel my cock and I wanted him to sit on it. I wanted to fuck him with my cock while he spilled on my chest. It was toe-curling, back-arching, super-hot fucking.

Morning strollI had so much fun. I’m still on that high a couple of days later. It’s interesting to me that none of the (sometimes crippling) anxiety I feel in social situations plagued me at the reception. Perhaps it is the power of the tuxedo. Maybe I feel more confident as a boy. Could be that DW puts me at ease. Whatever it is, I’ll take it.

I’ve felt great all weekend. I put on the tux again to take some photos with Harold, this time with me on top. Those images turn me on so much. Like crazy horny. I’ve never had that experience with photos of myself before! I don’t even know what to make of it. Renting a tux has been more than a costume for a party, more than cross-dressing, and more than a fetish. It’s been a dream come true.

Jun 212014
 

KissHarold and Melanie are having a date right now. It’s making me feel all warm and tingly thinking about them finding pleasure in each other. Their love for each other is a beautiful thing and makes the whole family happier. I adore Harold, so I want him to enjoy himself. I feel compersion – joy and expansiveness in my partner’s pleasure with others.

In fact, today I did my best to gift wrap Harold for Melanie’s enjoyment. From the time I woke up this morning, until he left for their date, I kept him turned on. We both knew he mustn’t orgasm, but everything else was fair game. We avoided penis-in-vagina penetration because neither of us has that much willpower. Other than that, I was ruthless. I know Harold’s body so well. I can keep him pretty close to the edge without going over.

We just flowed together from the moment I stretched myself awake and demanded that he scratch my back. We kissed, hard and wild, soft and sensuous, deep and demanding. I let him go down on me until I couldn’t stand it. I came for him with his fingers curled inside me. I taunted him with my body until he took his pants off. His balls suffered my brutal attentions. I squeezed, stroked, and slapped his hard cock.

Although I had no intention of actually letting him fuck me, I slipped into guy mode, turning the tables with every lame-ass wheedling plea I have ever heard: “Come on, I know a slut like you wants to,” and “You don’t want my balls to get blue, do you? You don’t want to hurt me,” and “Stop being such a tease.” It felt empowering to role-play with those ridiculous lines. We almost couldn’t resist!

Even though we were laughing and thoroughly enjoying ourselves, we both could feel when we needed to stop. There is a place where the energy shifts and frustration takes over, turning desire into something uncomfortable. We went to make breakfast, but we kept some low-level tension going – mostly caresses and kissing, innuendo and eye contact.

I picked it up again later, taking advantage of him helping me to bleach my hair by sliding a couple of lubed fingers into his asshole. I might have followed up with some lube on his penis. Poor boy. But I didn’t get into the shower with him. Again, we don’t have infinite willpower! I’m glad that I can orgasm as much as I want.

Delayed gratification can be so good. I don’t even care that he isn’t going to be fucking me! I imagine him like a wind up toy that I have spun up and sent in Melanie’s direction. I can’t wait to hear about how it goes!

May 312014
 

EvoeI had a date with the most wonderful man. I’m full of glowing excitement – equal parts desire, contentment, and anticipation. He seems to understand perfectly how to seduce me, or at least he is content to let our relationship unfold as it will. I spent days looking forward to our date and I have spent days savoring the memory. Yes, it was that good.

I like that we made decisions about our date together, but it was obvious that Woody got a lot of enjoyment out of my pleasure. I think that this is always a good sign in a potential lover. It’s also true that when I am happy, I spill joy out over everyone around me. We both had a good time.

I’ve been getting to know Woody for a few months, but this was our first time spent alone together. I appreciate that he has let me go at my own speed. We sent many emails back and forth before we met. I had to cancel our first meeting because of a family emergency and he quite understood. He’s been supportive of my recent struggles with thyroid problems, sending me reading materials and reassuring messages.

Harold and I went together to meet Woody in person the first time, which cut down on my anxiety over meeting people who found me on the Internet. They even hit it off, talking so much that I sometimes felt excluded. Woody and his wife had my family over for dinner and it was totally awesome. People who genuinely like my kids get super bonus points. It was a really fantastic evening.

The thing that is really working for me here, is that I feel accepted for who I am in the context of my life as it is now. Woody listens and he also shares about himself openly and honestly. I know about his other lovers, and I assume I will probably meet them at some point. I think he is building a community of brilliantly sexy people and I find that (and him) appealing. This is how I believe polyamory should work.

We shared a date, which rates as one of my best ever. We both love blues music, so we listened to some in the car. We are also both extremely sensuous, so sharing good food over brunch was basically when we started to make love. I adore that he noticed my fondness for all things bubbly and made sure we factored mimosas into our plans.

We held hands during the vampire movie I waited months to see, a warm champagne buzz releasing any lingering tension from my week, erotic energy building in the connections between our fingers as we sat in the dark. I left the theater feeling changed somehow. Big raindrops kissed my skin and released an earthy scent from the dry pavement. The drive home seemed too short.

I invited Woody in when he brought me home. I asked him up to my room to see my art. No, really, my art for SEAF was hanging on the wall! As I got my courage up to sign my artwork, I kissed him for luck. It became a very passionate kiss. A very probing tongues, groping hands kind of kiss. A kiss that penetrated my center and left my cunt wet and his cock hard under his jeans. A good kiss.

I had one of those moments where I had to use a brain fogged with lust to make a decision about what to do next. While I was enjoying our interaction, I knew my teen was downstairs and that it might be weird for her. I think because I was enjoying myself so much, I wanted to wait before going further. I like to draw things out. I like the anticipation. Lusting after someone is fun. My imagination is my greatest sex organ, right? We have time. So I showed him to the door.

I hope he had a fabulous masturbation session, thinking of me while he got off. I was certainly thinking of him. And about next time…

May 302014
 
Full package

Full package (Evoë Thorne)

Last night I went to the hard hat opening for SEAF 2014. I’m super excited for the festival this year! There are several pieces that really caught my eye and I think it’s going to shape up to be one hellava amazingly sexy party. You should totally attend today, Saturday, or Sunday for brunch!

This is my 4th year involved as an visual and/or literary artist and I really feel like I’m coming into my own this year. (You can read about previous years here: 2011 and 20112013) I let Harold talk me into submitting a large format image. There is something about having my work on 36″ by 54″ canvas that makes me feel like a serious artist rather than a lucky amateur. I couldn’t breathe when I took it out of the box. I am learning to take up space and it feels good.

Waves

Waves (Evoë Thorne)

I am also proud of Joel for getting an image selected for the festival! And bravo to Harold for modeling in all three images. Not many people start their porn careers in their 60’s. Even our friend, David Steinberg, is selling a print of Harold and me in the festival store. I believe that all of these images were originally published on this site, but you’ll need to attend SEAF to get the full effect!

For the literary portion, I had two poems selected this year. One is my found poem, UR so SXY, and the other is the sestina my teen dared me to write:

Bad Habits

I need a cup of coffee almost as bad as I need you.
Bitter and dark or sweet as honey,
I miss the taste of you on my lips.
I want the rush of you in my body,
But with you gone, I have to settle for another cup,
And you’re not here to know.

kiss

Death from above (Joel Thorne)

If I stayed up all night, would you know?
I roam around the house thinking of you,
Fingers dancing round the edges of my cup
Remembering orgasms golden like honey,
And the comforting weight of your body.
Up late and alone, I touch my empty lips.

I pour whisky and bring it to my lips.
You don’t like it when I drink, I know,
But I need you like this burning in my body.
I’m all afire, desiring you.
You go down smoother than whisky, Honey,
And I’d rather have you in my cup.

Restlessly, I put down my cup,
Words to that song you hate on my lips.
Well I’m playing it loud now, Honey!
I can dance better than you know.
I would grind like this for you,
Bouncing, gyrating, and sweating on your body.

Why aren’t you here to satisfy my body?!
I hate being discarded like an empty paper cup.
I gave so much of my life to you.
My fingers find the pearl between my lips,
There are some things I still know.
One, is where to find honey.

And ohmygod the honey!
Pleasure ripples in waves through my body
Revealing mysteries I’m momentarily allowed to know
I pour coffee and whisky into the same cup
And bring a fucking cigarette to my lips
For a moment, I don’t even think of you

Then I realize – Honey, this is my cup,
My music, my pleasure, my body, my lips.
Perhaps my biggest bad habit was knowing you.

 

Pleasure

Photo by David Steinberg

So come celebrate erotic art and your own sexuality! Wear whatever makes you feel sexy. Enter the Shoe-down with your most outrageous footwear. Check out awesome installation art. Watch erotic films. Interact. Have fun. And check out my art!

Jan 112014
 

Tip of the tongueIt’s so easy to take something for granted. Like the tip of your tongue. I never fully appreciated how awesome my tongue is until a few weeks ago, when I had some dental work done and the tip of my tongue never stopped being numb. It’s just the end on the left side, but I’m going crazy.

I guess this happens sometimes – some damage to the lingual nerve occurs accidentally during the numbing shots for routine fillings. I’m harder to get numb than most people, maybe my nerves run differently, I don’t know. It is supposed to get better as the damaged part regenerates. Nerves are slow to heal. I am not patient. I want my tongue back.

It feels weird and tingly all the time, sort of similar to when I’ve scalded my tongue on something that’s too hot. Only it’s been going on for nearly a month, leaving me hyper-aware of the tip of my tongue all of the time. This problem with my tongue is affecting me in several important areas: speaking, eating, and kissing.

I find it hard to talk. It feels so strange. I don’t think anyone notices but I feel self-conscious, like I am speaking with a mouth full of cotton balls. I keep scraping my tongue on my teeth or biting my cheek. Articulation is frustrating. Since expressing myself is pretty important, feeling speech-impaired is getting to me.

I normally enjoy eating rather immensely. Food is a sensual pleasure. Now, not only is it physically more challenging to eat on that side of my mouth, my taste buds are also affected. SO sad!

Kissing is by far my most keenly felt loss. How can I explore my lover’s body with my mouth if I can’t feel anything with my tongue? How can I flick the tip of my tongue across sensitive areas? How can we make out, our tongues darting in and out of each other’s mouths, if my tongue feels dead?

I’m whinging. All in all, things are not so bad. Numb tongue is a minor discomfort. It could be so much worse. People don’t even notice that there’s a problem, I bet.  The damage to my tongue is unlikely to be permanent. I just have to wait. And take my vitamins. And try not to accidentally bite my tongue, lip, or cheeks.

Patience is not my strength. I need distraction.

Nov 012013
 

Beautiful morningA few days ago Harold (my partner in life, love, and hare-brained scheming) turned 65.  He’s not much for celebrating, but we wanted to do something special. Of course we wanted to make love, but what else? We couldn’t think of just the right thing until the day before. I don’t remember now, how tattoos came up. Initially it was sort of a dare or a jest, then we started talking about tattoos as a form of submission to each other – how cool it would be to channel the energy of pain and excitement into sexual energy.

What if I gave my pain to him while I was being marked by his symbol? What if he actually brought me to orgasm while I was being tattooed? We were intrigued by the possibilities, but neither of us was sure there was a permanent mark we were willing to take on. We had feverish conversations throughout the eve of his birthday. Optimistically I made us an appointment.

The next morning we got together early. I wanted to shower and spend some time connecting, so I started up some Janis Joplin and both of us squeezed into a shower clearly made for one. I adore hot water and slick soapy skin. Things were starting to heat up.

With his cock hard in my hand, I asked Harold what he wanted sexually. Like normal, he temporized, telling me to just go with what I felt was right. I’ve been pushing him more to think about and vocalize the things he desires, so I didn’t let him off the hook.

Going downHe began to talk about me punishing him somehow. I was in an excited sexy place, so it took me a few minutes to realize that the energy had changed between us. It stopped feeling sexy. I immediately centered myself and opened up to Harold. I sat him down on the toilet seat and straddled him, wrapping my arms around him. I could feel some pain from his childhood there – something that I had triggered when we fought  last week. We talked through it until it felt okay for us both. We do this kind of thing a lot and it makes for much better sex.

We walked down to the cabin in the glorious morning sunshine, wearing only shoes and coats. The chill air on my thighs and the thrill of being naked outdoors started to make me wet. There was already a fire going in the cabin. We proceeded to have some of the hottest sex we’ve had in a long time. He went down on me until I came. I strung him up in cuffs and did wicked things to his nipples and balls. I pushed him more than I ever have before and we both reached new heights.

IMG_3613When neither of us could wait another second, I bent over in front of him and let him fuck me from behind, his arms still suspended above his head. This is one of my favorite positions. I bent over the bed, where I had all of my tools spread out. He pounded into me. I rocked forward with each thrust, my breath coming out in harsh gasps, escalating to full throated moans, followed shortly by Harold’s ecstatic bellows.

Evidently my head was bumping my phone in the final throes of Harold’s birthday sex and Siri heard our vocalizations. Her voice surprised us, “I do not understand ‘who, who, who, who.’ I could search the Internet for you.” I laughed hysterically when I figured out what was going on.

From there we drove to to get tattoos, anticipation and anxiety sharing equal space. We knew what we wanted but we weren’t sure where. We talked through the positives and negatives of every possible location. Eventually we went with what felt right for each of us.

Harold and his tattooHarold went first. You have to understand that he’s never wanted a tattoo before. The fact that he celebrated turning 65 by getting his first tattoo is very inspirational to me. I think he enjoyed the process. He got spacey in a charming way, holding my hand. Afterwards, he was proud and blissed out. I love him so much.

This was not my first dance, but I was shocked by how intense the pain was in the tender flesh of my upper stomach. It got better over time, but initially there was no way that I could have sexualized that sensation. I’m just not a masochist. What I did do, over and over, was send the energy to Harold, giving him my pain, taking his mark. He held my hand and touched my face.

After, we were so high on endorphins. I felt amazing. We had so much fun.

We went home to my darling husband, who had prepared an incredible and gorgeous conch and squid ceviche just for Harold. Joel had even managed to find Harold’s favorite alcoholic beverage, Punt è Mes, which is rare in these parts. (Have I mentioned that sometimes it is unbelievably awesome to have two partners who care about each other?) The children had all made birthday cards and gotten him flowers. More glowy happiness!

Heart and delta tattooHarold spent some time talking with his wife and I put the kids to bed. We fell into each other’s arms and the softness of bed. Tired happiness gave way to gentle kisses. deep probing kisses became grinding gyrations. Without any thought we were making love again. Happy birthday Baby and many more…

Oct 012013
 

Wrapped in a sheetHave you wondered what it would feel like to make love for hours on end? Could you take sex to such a sacred level that everything you do together is about sustained attraction and pleasure? Could you open your heart and let your partner flow through you?

We had 40 hours alone together in an alpine chalet. We made love for every minute of it, so happy to share company, so enraptured by each other’s pleasure, that everything we did was infused with love. Every time we are together we create a bond that goes deeper.

We made love for 40 hours, holed up in a tiny rundown a-frame. I said “made love”, not fucked, although we did lots of fucking. No, I mean we created love between us. We slept wrapped in each other’s arms, breathing in the scent of our sweat on each other’s skin. We slept in blissful golden safety.

When we woke in the morning, our desire peaked. The river rushed by our window and we simply merged – his mouth driving me wild, fingers inside me, my orgasm stretching out, taking his proud erection in my mouth.  We paused as he entered me. Is this what we wanted? We had all day…

Almost thereBut I’m all for taking pleasure in the moment. We never know what will come. No regrets, fuck now and hope fore more later. We fucked and the sweetness built between us. He filled me with his jism.

For 40 hours we made love with every action. We nibbled on finger foods, drank orange juice and coffee. I feel loved when I am fed. He shows love by providing for me. Food is such a sensual joy when we take time to enjoy it.

I meditated on the bed, feeling his presence strong beside me. I spiraled deep inside myself, seeing everything laid out before me. Anchored by his love, I healed parts of me that had been broken. Stretched out beside his warm body, I experienced a clarity that is often elusive. When I opened my eyes to his smile, I knew he could feel it too.

We cuddled in the hot tub, rain pouring down, but the mountains gorgeous around us. I couldn’t keep my fingers from his skin. I watched his lips when he talked, needing to kiss them.

We surrounded ourselves in music, filling the small space with rhythms and lyrics that conjured up our past, times before we were together and since our lives have slowly grown together. Sometimes the music felt like it was my whole being and sometimes it was the backdrop of our conversation. We danced.

Harold made upI laid him out in front of the gas fireplace. Naked in a nest of blankets and pillows on the floor, I sat on his hips and made up his face. Touching a lover’s face is one of the most intimate things I can imagine and I loved making him my art. I was conscious of my cunt moist against his semi-erect cock, but I was intent on applying eyeliner. He never looks effeminate in make-up, it’s more that his fey nature shines through.

Talking seamlessly moved into oral sex and back. I hovered on the edge of orgasm. We fucked in spurts, laced with making out and kinky bits. I spanked him with a hairbrush, but it was my soft caresses that made him cry. We made love before and after eating, in and out of the hot tub, all over the cabin. Always, we stopped short of coming, letting our energy build.

We tumbled into bed, a bit sore, yet still full of need. A storm raged outside and the power went out, plunging us into total darkness. I felt afraid and slept holding his hand, a flashlight clutched in the other. There was a kind of isolation in that darkness, like being wrapped in a cocoon, but in some way we were still making love. It was just the two of us, far away from the rest of the world.

In the morning, he pampered me – an array of breakfast delights, my vibrator, and kisses all over. I finally found release with the help of his hands and it was incredibly sweet. I took over and spent some time focused on his body. It’s such a gift to have him give himself to me like that.

End of the weekendWe talked more in the hot tub. He broke through some wall I didn’t know was there. One moment we were drying off and the next I was crouched on the floor sobbing. He wrapped his whole body around me and held me while grief thundered out of me. I dripped snot into his hair.

We cleaned up and left. It wasn’t nearly enough, it’s never enough, but we so desperately need these times to connect with each other. We had 40 hours together in a run-down a-frame and we made every second count. What I know is that every second always counts. I want to make love every moment because I don’t know how much time we’ll have together in this world, but the love we make is real and will stay with me forever.

Sep 142013
 

making loveI’m waiting to see if the new relationship energy (NRE) will fade for Harold and me. We’ve been together for six years and I still get hot when he walks into the room. We continue to stay open to each other emotionally. We still send each other mushy emails, IM’s, and texts throughout the day. We talk for hours, gazing longingly into each other’s eyes. We are increasingly more in love every day.

Most romantic and sexual relationships start with a surge of NRE. It’s that intoxicating rush that happens when you establish that you really like each other – the excitement and happiness that makes it possible to sleep for less than 4 hours a night and still function at work the next morning. It’s the happy space where you see all of the potential of a person. NRE can be exhilarating and is likely the mechanism of falling in love. (The best article I’ve ever seen about the chemical processes of NRE is in National Geographic, if you want to read more.)

going downThere are benefits to NRE. I am stronger and more willing to take risks or to push past my comfort zones because I am in love, both because I feel I have unwavering support and because my body is flooded with hormones that make stretching as a person feel good. We make love constantly, leaving me feeling relaxed, focused, and full of love for everyone around me. Every day I choose to be with Harold because I want him, not out of obligation or shared commitments. We simply desire each other body, mind, and spirit.

Rather than love making me blind to Harold’s faults, I find that his inner self unfolds at my touch. I can see all of the places where his energy sticks or snarls. Sometimes we collide, but often I see that his stuck places have nothing to do with me. I can hold him with love and shine my light for him to see as well. I know him well. It’s amazing to drop all presentation and know that I am loved for who I truly am, not who he wants me to be.

KissOne of the biggest challenges for us is being in a poly family. We both have partners whom we love very much. We don’t want our exuberance to hurt anyone’s feelings, but we don’t want to feel like we have to keep our feelings secret either. We’re walking a fine line. Our partners have been fairly tolerant of our passionate relationship because they both like to see us happy. I feel like the love we generate between us spills out, benefiting everyone.

Our sex has certainly flourished under the influence of NRE. We’ve gotten more efficient at giving each other pleasure over time, but never has making love gotten stale or routine. We constantly explore new territory, examining every dark crevice of our perverted brains. He makes me shameless. Literally. There isn’t anything I would hesitate to ask him for. I am never ashamed of my desires and never flinch at his. I want every bit of him.

We make love in every way, from rough and kinky to slow and sweet. We make out in public, intense lingering kisses. We make love while we cook dinner together. We don’t even touch, but that energy between us builds with erotic tension. He goes down on me under the covers, sweaty and wet with my juices while I writhe and try to stay silent. We drive each other wild until we can’t stand it and absolutely must fuck in the back of the car, or bent over a stool in the bathroom, or at the side of a hiking path. We role play and explore power dynamics. We’re animal together. Our sex life is everything I have ever wanted and more that I never dreamed.

making love slowlyEarly on in our relationship, I had a vision while we were making love. I saw a lotus blossom slowly start to unfold, revealing a core of golden light. This is me, and this is our love. I don’t know anything about tantra, but I think that the truth that Harold and I have discovered together is probably the same truth that mystics and lovers have known forever: it isn’t about the orgasm (although coming is powerful), it’s about letting go of the ego and opening to your partner in order to experience ecstatic unity.

New relationship energy is expansive. It expands the universe around the relationship. It seems to me that at some point people usually stop expanding and settle down. They let the relationship define their boundaries. It’s comfortable. It feels secure, but often the passion dies. Maybe it depends on what you want in a relationship. If you want marriage and children, you would likely stop when you got that. I’m older than that I guess. I want amazing sex and someone who sees me as a whole person, someone to dream with and explore the world with.

BlissI don’t want to ever stop expanding. I’ll take the ever-changing surprises of honesty, empowerment, and lust over the lure of stasis. I find my happiness being in the present. I don’t think this is NRE. I think this is the energy of our love together. We are always opening to love like a lotus to light.

 

 

 

 

Sinful Sunday