Mar 292015
 

“There’s a park coming up on the left, just before the bridge. Let’s go check it out.” Just in time, he sees the turn I mean and swings the car around. We bump down the gravel drive toward the water. The parking lot is empty except for a park ranger’s truck. I groan inwardly. I guess we aren’t going to fuck in the car.

In the dirtWe get out and casually walk down the beach, arm in arm. There are maybe a dozen small boats at anchor along this stretch, but I don’t see anyone on board. My feet shift and slide on the rocks. The air smells of sea and rain. We’ve just missed a spring downpour. As we continue down the shore, around a bend to a place where trees grow out over the water, the sounds of traffic on the bridge fade into the background.

Now out of sight of the parking lot, we stop and kiss. A warm tingly feeling starts at the soles of my feet and rises up, filling my body with golden desire. We pull each other closer. I am deeply rooted in the moment, no longer aware of the cold or our surroundings. Love fills me until I feel that my chest can no longer contain the heat of my desire. I open to him, send my energy to flow into him with my breath. He gasps with the pleasure of it and I know that he feels me.

Cool treeFor a moment I transcend my body, this beach, everything. My consciousness soars and I am a part of all things. He brings me back with his passionate hands roaming my body. I pull away to see his eyes. I want to make love with him. Immediately.

“Let’s go check out that cool tree!” I say, imagining how awesome it would be to have sex on the broad trunk that slopes out 10 feet over the beach. The tree is amazing, but I suddenly feel too exposed. I scan the area for just the right place. There, up the hill a bit.

We climb an impromptu creek bed, rain water running back to the Sound. The fresh scent of the soil squishing under our feet turns me on even more. Part of me feels primal. Part of me is giggling over being transgressive.

We reach the spot I’d picked. We have a great view of the Hood Canal Bridge in it’s entirety, but no one will spot us. Anyone on the boats could see us, but probably won’t. Ditto for park goers. It has just the right balance of public and private to get my juices flowing.

Going down by the SoundWe aren’t sure what to do next. We kiss and feel each other up with growing intensity. I straddle a mossy log and lay back, letting him undo my pants and pull them down to below my knees. He presses his face between my thighs while I contort and hang on with all I’m worth. The colloquial saying about something being as easy as falling off a log runs through my head, but it feels fantastic.

I really want to fuck! I convince him to stop and let me suck his cock. We usually take more time than this, but I am excited. I want him to fuck me from behind. We try it one way while straddling the log, pants pulled down. Then the other, hoping that the angle would be better. Finally I order him to lie on the forest floor and I squat over him.

I easily return to that sensation of being both extremely present and one with everything. I open myself to the world all around us, yet we are alone together in a bubble of our love. Every time I slide up and down the length of his cock, waves of pleasure ripple through my body. The sensations build. I feel my orgasm approaching and I move faster. His face contorts and I can tell he is also near. I draw the moment out, savoring that blissful anticipation, before giving myself over.

Almost thereHis cries ring out over the water as he finds release. I laugh until the muscles in my cunt push him out. I love him so much. I love him like this, on his back in the moss and ferns, by the water, his pants down around his knees. I feel happy and alive. We have so much fun together.

We dust off the dirt and leaves. We find a safer way down the hill to the rocky beach. We kiss and hold hands and look for interesting rocks. Back at the car we notice that the ranger’s truck is gone. We gaze into each other’s eyes, reliving that moment in the woods. We didn’t even get caught this time.

Feb 222015
 

Reflected in the windowHappiness is being in the middle of a naked snuggle pile. I could see us reflected in the glass ceiling of the solarium: Harold and Woody both curled around me, our legs entwined, hands still roaming each other’s bodies. We made a beautiful tableau. After more orgasms than I can remember, I was feeling diffuse and abundant love. They were taking advantage of the lull in the action to geek out together over cool higher math.

My body was saturated with sensation. I was hyper aware of every touch, the unique scent of their skin, the warmth of our bodies together, the blues songs that filled the room and became part of the fabric of our existence, the taste of ginger beer spicy on my tongue and in their kisses, and the sunlight blessing us all. I could close my eyes and feel myself sustained by their strength, nourished by their love, safe in their arms. Not only do these men bring me great pleasure, they also make me relax and live in the moment.

Those moments were pretty incredible. I adored having all the extra stimulation. Being able to make out while someone goes down on me or having a cock in each hand is satisfying. It’s surprisingly challenging to give two hand jobs at once, especially since they each prefer a different style and rhythm. They had the audacity to suggest that I was doing it wrong, but I think it was just an excuse to spend time going down on each other.

It was hot to watch them, two mostly straight guys who have come into their own sexual power in their 60’s. They were passionate with each other. They performed fellatio with a hunger, like they’ve spent their whole lives thinking about what they would do if they ever got a chance. It obviously felt good. When receiving, they each groaned with head thrown back and body arched. I felt a momentary twinge of jealousy to be excluded from this ardent display, but watching them was so primal that I felt connected anyway.

The three of us are so full of love for each other. We respect each other and we feel comfortable being vulnerable. Each of us could ask for the things that we specifically enjoy and wanted. It was okay to laugh and cry and discuss Euler’s identity. I’ve been fucking geeks for most of my life and never realized how sexy logarithms could be, but it certainly worked for Harold and Woody.

Reflected in the windowIt’s amazing how many different ways in which three people can combine. It takes a little bit more work than two people, but we are creative. The advantage to making love with older men is that they take their time. We can have sex for hours and it focuses more on my pleasure. The disadvantage of older men is that I have yet to make them both hard enough at the same time for double penetration or other such hijinks, but I think we’ll get there eventually.

It was a lovely afternoon, from eating sushi with our fingers and catching up to a wild tangle of mouths and limbs – from sensual overload to furious fucking ­– from soaking in the hot tub to dinner and a movie with the family – from Euler to Richard Feynman to Gregory Chaitin. Threesomes have a certain caché, but the time we’ve spent together isn’t like that. We aren’t just there to fuck. We are friends. I have incredible sex with each of them separately. Together we create a function of complex variables that has an amazing integral.

Feb 152015
 

All or nothingWe finally reached a point where I lay limp in his arms, my feet tangled in the sheets, our bodies covered in a thin sheen of sweat. My tears and snot lubricated the skin between his shoulder and my cheek. Emptied of grief, I finally found myself floating in a place of comfort. It had taken all night to get there, but now, finally, 40 minutes before his alarm would go off, I felt the love and connection I had been struggling all night to find.

I fought him. All of my frustration and helpless rage needed out. I opened my mouth and all of the hateful bitter things trapped inside spilled from my lips. I didn’t want him to take it on, but of course he did, stepping into each of my desperate claims and wearing it around like an ill-fitting garment. Maybe that helped me, seeing how ridiculous he looked in my fears. But he would say, “This isn’t me. What are you talking about?” and his voice would be loaded with hurt as we lay in bed, surrounded by darkness, “You don’t even see me!”

And I would cry harder because I wasn’t talking about him, I was talking about my emotions, telling him about the things I need to work through because they are poisoning me. I wanted him to reassure me, to tell me that it was okay to feel, and to be my ally in finding solutions. I would tell him, “Of course I see you. I know you. You are my heart.” and I would writhe against him in agitation, “Please, I need help!”

I felt like I was drowning. Over and over, I would cry, “I just want you to hear me!” like I was begging for a life preserver. The middle of the night is never the best time to try to have relationship discussions, but we didn’t have other time. Exhausted and hopeless, I wanted to give up.

He got angry. On opposite sides of the bed, like continents separated by an ocean, we lobbed bombs at each other in futile attempt to make peace. I had no defenses, being open to him made me an easy target. Every word he said hurt, but nothing as bad as his final abandonment would, when in cold tones he explained that we were over.

It’s always all or nothing here. We give everything or we walk away alone. I wasn’t ready to lose what we have built. I made the same sacrifice I always make, silently wishing that he would apologize first sometimes.

All or nothingUnder the oppressive weight of my sadness, I needed his touch. I longed to be held, cherished, protected from this anguish. He came round to my side, slid under the heavy covers, and pulled my body on top of his. We would both calm with our bodies this close. I let go. I let go of my problems, my anxiety, the desperate emotions I can’t seem to resolve. I made a decision to believe him when he said that I was building walls against him. I lowered my defenses. I was vulnerable to him.

In his arms, I released my pent up emotions in a torrent. His anger dissolved under the onslaught of my tears and the absolution that what I was feeling is not about now, not his fault. I cried until I was empty, even dumping the vague feeling that I had betrayed myself. All that mattered was somehow finding each other before the night ended.

In those moments of stillness I experienced a strange high. I would feel strongly connected to him, but also euphoric, drifty, and hollow – a bit like a balloon on his string. Emptied of all thought and emotion, I found a pure meditative state where we held each other in peace until the alarm went off.

 

 

 

Sinful Sunday

Feb 082015
 

CuppingJust when I think that the new relationship energy must be over – that maybe we’ve exhausted our passion, or built up too much resentment for intimacy to feel good – sex is suddenly better than ever. The past month has brought a sea change in my relationship with Harold, perhaps born of many hours working through old pain in our relationship, but more likely simply paying more attention to some health issues.

It’s amazing how different our relationship is when my thyroid levels are back in balance and Harold gets enough sleep and takes vitamins. He says that vitamins give him the ability to act on the fact that he wants me all the time. Amazing! I can’t wait to see what happens when we both start exercising on a regular basis.

Our connection has always been sexual, but now we can’t get enough of each other – it’s been five times a week, sometimes twice a day. We are suddenly able to experience each other in ways that we’ve wanted but been unable to quite achieve. Harold topped me for a whole session, sending me into spasms of delight. I put needles through his balls, deeply satisfying his adventurous spirit. We played around with cupping while listening to old vinyl on the record player, bonding through a shared love of the blues. We’ve been seriously kinky and had so much fun!

My new favorite thing is being tied up and spanked while I’m on top of the Magic Wand. I don’t come quickly, but the ride is intense. Also, I’m enjoying being fucked from behind with a butt plug in, so it feels like I’m being fucked in both holes. Coming like that is beyond description. I’ve never felt so close to Harold as in those moments of pure pulsing pleasure.

NeedleWe are more romantic right now too. All of that oxytocin surging through us is making us all mushy. We’ve been doing sweet little things to help each other, getting small presents that would bring joy, and leaving love notes. I feel like he is understanding me in ways that were out of reach before. We are both stretching, trying hard to be big enough for this fire that is our passion.

Not everything is roses. I can see how important it is for us to take care of our bodies and our psyches so we can keep having unbelievable sex. We still have moments nearly every day where we feel some twinge of pain or frustration, but now we have the golden nectar of love and sexual connection buoying our souls. For that balm, I will brave a few thorns.

Jan 312015
 

Going downI wake up to him going down on me. My body responds before I am really awake – legs wrapping around him, back arched, hands making fists against the sheets. In the tent under the blankets the scent of his skin surrounds me. The darkness is soft and warm. I focus on the feel of his tongue passing over my clit. When did I get so wet?

I need this man like water in the desert. I’ve been so horny lately, so stressed. In the very early morning he comes to me like a river. He flows over my body. His tongue says, “Be hot for me Baby. Go ahead and burn. I will ease your fever.”

I let go. Sleepily, blissfully, I melt into him. The whole huge complexity of the world narrows to one point. Love. I can forget about everything else for a while. My burdens will wait. I exhale and release all my tension. I’m floating, but his body anchors me. This is the safest I have felt in days.

Heat builds under his mouth. I realize that I am making loud moaning noises and I try to be quieter, but it doesn’t matter. I am pressing myself against him as hard as possible. He pins my wrist to the bed with one hand and captures my soul. I don’t know if he’s doing it on purpose, but this small decisive action tells me that he owns me. I give him everything of me. It’s all his.

Making loveHe is still licking my clit with quick intense motions that make me twitch. Now his other hand roams up to my nipples. He gently pinches and my sounds get louder. I want everything all at once. I want to be right here forever. I want to come. “Harder,” I tell him.

He tweaks my nipples in earnest and my body stiffens as pleasure lances through me. Oh my god. I am gasping with each small jolt of pain. I am overwhelmed with love and flooded with lust for this man. I want more!

I love the weight of him on top of me. It feels secure, like a seatbelt. His is my shield against despair. I writhe under him, swollen with desire, blazing with need. He kisses me deeply and it is like diving into a lake on a summer’s day. His face is moist with my juices. I thrust my impatient tongue between his lips. His mouth is firm on mine. I invite him in.

I feel like a volcano heading for eruption, all lava and pressure. The feel of him inside me, pressing against my g-spot is nearly enough to make me explode. He hands me the vibrator.

That moment just before orgasm is the best – the slow build to powerful peak, poised at the edge of incredible intensity, striving both to slow the inevitable and speed the climax. I find it compelling and excruciating all at once. I think I live there.

He fills me. I am rocked by his motions. Suddenly, like seeing a waterfall approaching, I know I’m going to come. I get swept over the edge, and I am tightening around him in powerful waves. A flood of emotion Connectedovercomes me and then evaporates. I am awash in love. Sweaty, steamy love.

We snuggle in stillness for a few moments. Maybe this is the best part. I feel grounded, connected in a way that has been elusive lately. There are no words here, no need to talk, just us. In the early morning, in the warm quiet dark, we lie in each others arms and we whisper, “Let’s try that again in a few hours.”

Nov 222014
 

Sexually shyThis morning I had the disturbing realization that I tend to explore new sexual relationships from the safety of a threesome. It makes sense in a polyamorous world. I don’t have enough time to spend alone with each of my lovers so why not economize? Or something. I also get very nervous about being in sexual situations alone with someone I don’t know very well, so a threesome lets me get to know someone gradually. You can learn a lot about someone by watching them interact with others. So I’ve been setting up playdates with multiple partners.

Actually, making love with multiple partners at once is the best thing ever. It never seems like there are enough hands, mouths, genitals to do all of the things with just two people. How awesome is it to have hands everywhere? I love the feeling of being overwhelmed by sensation. Having more people in bed means being more creative. It often means communicating more, but I feel more confident, less on the spot to perform.

Tied up

Photo by Shawna

I just didn’t know that I had a habit of arranging threesomes for my first naked times with partners. It’s not something that I’ve been conscious of doing, but I can see the pattern. 

Although Woody and I had made out and done some heavy petting, the first time I was naked with him was with Harold. That worked beautifully. Wood still calls Harold his boyfriend and they are very affectionate with each other. (Come to think of it, that’s also beneficial in a poly relationship – my partners liking each other!)

DW tied me up in his living room while Shawna took photos, but after that DW and I played alone. Still, I made love to Shawna with DW in an intensly mind-blowing way. That was an incredible experience because I was able to do things that I enjoy and get tips from DW and Shawna about what the other person might like – kind of native guides.

My first time with Abby was also with Woody. They are very sweet together. I feel so much tenderness toward them both and watching them together just melted my heart. But Abby is wicked! I Controlwanted to try her Magic Wand because I have limited experience. Abby operated the add-on controller while I held the Magic Wand. That was absolutely incredible. I like having my pleasure in her hands. The three of us were remarkably at ease with each other, naturally exploring bodies and what is possible to do together.

While it wasn’t a playdate, Harold and I went to a hot spring with Woody and Hobbit. There was a certain amount of sex play that happened during our time there. Something about hot naked people turns me on. At one point, Hobbit put her fingers inside me, each guy focused on a nipple, and I used my vibrator to a super orgasm. I love floating in desire – literally and figuratively.

Hot springsMaybe I shouldn’t worry too much about this trend. It seems to be working for me. Each of these trysts came about fairly organically. I do have some (probably legitimate) fears about being physically vulnerable when first exploring sexual relationships. Having been raped, I want to be as safe as possible, but my reasoning is not totally about that. I just like group sex. I like having the people I care about love each other. While I don’t ever want threesomes (or more!) to take the place of the intimacy possible between two people, I have to admit that I feel pretty lucky.

Oct 292014
 

Going downFor Harold

(On the occasion of his 66th birthday)

My dear,
My tweed demon, just one six short of dangerous,
My God, horned and horny in the woods,
The best friend I’ve ever had,
My co-conspirator, my muse,
My love…

So in loveHappy birthday.
I know you didn’t want a present,
I need to tell you what a gift you’ve been to me.

I am surprised to see that you are becoming an old man
(because I always see the you
you are inside)
I like the changes I see.
I would like you most any way.

I trust you.

You turn me on like crazy.
When you walk into a room,
Or give me that smile that’s just for me,
my cunt spasms.
PartnersI have to catch my breath.
Our eyes meet and I know you feel it too.
It’s the little things like that.

You give yourself to me over and over,
Deeper every time.
Like letting me use my knife to cut
your father’s shirt from your back
as we stood under the full moon.
Like handing me a mallet and spreading your legs.
Like letting the camera
document our love.
Like trusting me enough to ask for what you want
and trusting me enough to let me take charge.
Like being the girl to my boy.

Naked in natureI hope I am as generous in spirit as you.
You love me as I am,
honor every path I’ve taken,
and hold me to my own high standards.
It is a rare gift to hold both weakness and strength
in love.
In your eyes my hurts make me whole,
not broken.
You are a revelation.
I am reborn in your arms.

I do not have a gift to celebrate your entrance to this life.
Only words,
and a love that encompasses the universe.
You are my heart,
My dance partner, my dreamer, my daddy,
Male BeautyMy boy in the tall grass,
My first and last thought…

Happy birthday, Harold.
Have the best year of your life!
You seem to be picking up speed
and there are only 1097 days until the most epic oral sex party ever…

Oct 012014
 

High stressLast week was super stressful for me. I started college, I lost my dog, my child had surgery, and I did it all while dealing with my normal stressful things, a broken toe that’s still healing, and being sick with a cold that turned into a sinus infection and bronchitis. Needless to say, I did not go on any dates last week. I did manage a few brief erotic encounters and intimacy of the snuggly kind. That totally counts.

But by the start of this week I was feeling totally depleted. Joel held the fort at home and Harold took me down to the cabin. For five hours he held me while I grieved and ranted and searched my soul. It gave me time to release all of the tension that had been building and threatened to explode. Usually, we would spend at least half of the time making love, but this emotional sharing seemed more important. It’s not that we didn’t make out. We are always sexual together on some level, but he just held the space for me process. That’s more intimate than anything else I know.

We went to run errands. More difficult emotions came up. We were in Costco when my anger finally hit surface. We probably made a spectacle, me raging, then us passionately kissing, then more arm waving. It felt good to express anger and still feel loved and supported.

By the time we got off the freeway on our way home, I had broken down into heaving sobs – the deep cathartic kind of crying, releasing more grief than the tears that sometimes escape and run silently down my cheeks. That moment suddenly made everything real. Harold kissed me and I felt him all the way down to my toes.

It funny that we can spend the day together, naked, sharing our thoughts and still not be in sync sexually. But that one moment in the car, when I found my emotional center, we suddenly melted into each other and all we knew was pure desire. My need to fuck him was intense. Harold starting driving again. We weren’t far from home, but when you need someone like that…

I couldn’t keep my hands off of him. I gripped his erection through his jeans, my hands restlessly moving from cock to back of the head to nipples. He captured my hand and kissed the back, sucked at my fingers. Our pull to each other was threatening Harold’s ability to drive. We had to pull over.

Even before the car came to a full stop in the small dark deserted public parking lot, we were passionately making out. His hand was down my shirt, trying to liberate my breasts, or at least my nipples. We scrambled to find a way to make sex work in the car.

We’ve done this a few times before, but always in larger vehicles, not a sedan. And I’d always been wearing a skirt without panties, with shoes that slip off, so it was easy to straddle him. This night I was wearing tights and an orthopedic walking boot. Not exactly streamlined. No matter, we’ve always been resourceful. I quickly calculated positions. The backseat was out because it was loaded with our Costco purchases. There was no room on the driver’s side. I ask Harold if he could moved over to my side.

You have to understand that this was urgent. We were desperate. When I managed to pull down my skirt and tights and not get my boot hung up in Harold’s feet, it was a minor miracle. When I sat down and guided his cock into my cunt, it was a palpable relief. The car creaked and groaned as we rocked back and forth, but after a minute, we both knew it wasn’t quite right. We needed a different angle and our options were limited.

Looking around, I devised a brilliant plan. I crawled over to the driver’s side, clothing and boots still hampering me. That didn’t give me enough room, so I opened up the door. Harold pushed to his knees, trying to get into position behind me. There I was, with my ass in the air and my head out the open door, Harold crouched over and behind me trying to find an angle where he could insert his cock, when I noticed that the car was moving.

It was fairly dark and it was raining. The car moved so slowly at first that I wasn’t sure if I was moving or the car – just that slight disorientation of movement. When I realized that we were indeed moving, we had a mad scramble, a tangle of limbs and clothing and car. Harold found the parking brake and pulled it on. We must have released it in our rush to fuck. Or perhaps never set it in the first place. We only rolled about a foot, and the curb would have caught us, but the absurdity of the situation was immense. We laughed and kissed, the urgency of our ardor broken.

Releasing tensionWe sighed and straighten our clothes, drove back home to the people waiting for us. I thought to myself that there seems to be more than one way to release tension. Maybe an occasional bout of free fall isn’t so bad. I have a lover who will stand by me through my worst stuff. We have so much fun together. Most of all, Harold and I, after seven years together, still have moments where we want each other so bad, SO BAD, that we can’t drive two more miles to be home and fuck. Really, what else do I need?

Aug 212014
 

Going downWe’ve been laying naked on the bed, chatting in that comfortable stream-of-consiousness way that we have together. The windows are open to the warm air and the sounds of nature. My body is alive to his touch. I am drawn to him, but without any sense of urgency. We belong to each other and we have all afternoon together.

He gets up – I think he is in transit, maybe to get a drink of water or check his phone, maybe get something from the sex toy bag – but he gets stuck. He snags between my legs. My knees fall open, his gaze glued to my cunt. Before I really register what is happening, his tongue is lapping lazy circles around my clitoris.

I had been pretty relaxed to begin with, but I close my eyes and drift through waves of pleasure. He’s good at using his mouth and he knows my body. I just give myself over to his care. My mind wanders. I think about the very first time he gave me head. I was lying in exactly this spot, but in my memory it seems different. I feel myself getting wetter as I get more aroused and I remember that first time being the same, although I interpreted it differently.

I open my eyes and look down at him, “Hey Sweetheart?”

He opens his eyes and looks at me, but doesn’t stop licking, “Uhmmmm?”

“When you do that, do you kind of…spit on me?”

His eyebrows raise, but he doesn’t answer.

“I’ve been thinking about the first time we made love and I was pretty sure you spit on me on purpose to have extra lubrication.”

He sort of nods, keeps licking.

I’m feeling a little foolish but continue on, “I thought that it was a good idea to have extra spit. Now I do that when I go down on someone.”

He pauses for a moment, “I drool.” He goes back to teasing my clit.

“What?”

“I drool during oral sex. I can’t keep it all in my mouth.” He lifts his head and I can see that the whole bottom half of his face is wet.

I begin to giggle. So much for my suave oral sex techniques!

Aug 152014
 

Hotel sexMy head is still swirling with images from last weekend – memories of taking the train to Portland, experiencing my first leather event, and swanky hotel threesome sex all invade my mind. It was a good time. I felt like a teenager running away from home, full of excitement tinged with a trace of fear. I felt like I was getting away with something wicked and I relished every moment on my own. I made it all count.

Harold dropped me off at the train station, where Hobbit and her Princess Girlfriend found me. On the way down to Portland they explained the basics of leather culture and titles. They were both very gracious in answering all my questions. Although I’ve spent most of my life on the edges of the LGBT  and BDSM communities, I have never directly attended a leather event. (I love new experiences!) In Portland, we met up with Woody, DW, and Shawna.

Shawna's formal look

Photo courtesy of Leland Carina

My Sweet Girl, Shawna, was running for Ms. Oregon State Leather. I wanted to be there to see her in her element. And I was there, with the taste of whisky in my mouth, the smell and creak of leather around me, music blasting, and the trace of a lover’s fingers along the back of my neck. I felt alive in a way I rarely experience, but value more than anything. I got to see Shawna and the other competitors explain how they would serve the community. I watched the outrageous manifestations of their fantasies come to life onstage. I witnessed the contestants poise when answering pop questions. I learned a lot about leather culture observing their numerous outfit changes. Underneath everything was a sense of humor and unapologetic sexuality.

Everyone I encountered was warm, respectful, and self-contained. It’s the first time I have ever been in a bar or club and not had someone come on to me in a sticky or obnoxious way. People did talk to me. I had fascinating conversations with interesting people. But I never even came close to having to tell someone to fuck off. It’s nice to be fully and comfortably in my sexual self and not have to defend my boundaries because someone else thinks that all my shiny is for them. I think these leather folks are onto something.

Shawna's victory pose

Photo courtesy of Leland Carina

Mostly, I was happy to see Shawna win the title. My Sweet Girl is now Ms. Oregon State Leather 2014! I’m so proud of all that she’s accomplished and I know that she’s going to spend the next year doing great things for the leather community. I am endlessly amazed by her humility and grace, as well as the strength of her convictions and iron will. I love her.

I was proud of myself because after the contest was over, I did exactly what I wanted to do. I did not go to the after party. I did not go out to eat with friends. I went back to my lovely hotel and engaged in self-care. I ate food that I brought with me, that would not make me sick. I put ice on my broken toes. I read my book.

While I enjoyed alone time, I was excited when DW texted to say that he was in the lobby with Shawna. I took the elevator down to get them. In a surreal moment, we went back up with a couple that had just gotten married. They asked about Shawna’s Ms. Oregon State Leather sash!

When I think about you...It’s such a joy to sit and talk to friends. Even better when we snuggle up in bed together. I think DW delights in helping people actualize their desires because soon hands were roaming and Shawna started moaning. DW had her ask me for fisting (which I had mentioned being into earlier). We had her spread across the bed between us – DW’s cock in her throat and my whole hand inside her beautiful cunt. Fisting is such a deeply spiritual experience for me, although I normally have more of an opportunity to check in with the person I am inside. Her vaginal contractions were so strong, she would force my hand out over and over. It was the most amazing thing.

When Shawna felt she’d had enough, she switched to giving DW head from on top. I played with his nipples and sat on his face until I came. Shortly after, DW orgasmed.

It was four in the morning. I usually go to bed no later than 10:00, but some things are well worth staying up for. Shawna and DW left to return to their hotel room, but Shawna confessed that this was her first threesome. I feel honored that she chose to spend the evening with me. I hope I did right by her.

Satisfied and dreamyI tumbled into a contented, dreamy sleep, only to awaken at 8:00 a.m. That’s sleeping in for me! I stumbled around figuring out coffee and rejecting room service. Woody texted me from the Bolt Bus on his way back to Seattle. I got him to sext me while I used my vibrator to come over and over. I wonder what the person next to him thought.

My own trip home was good. I thought lots of deep thoughts. I felt both satiated and hungry for more. I really love the train. It’s so relaxing to stare out the window and think in peace. My fantasy life is rich, but occasionally, real life eclipses my imagination.