Over the past three years I've come to believe that my kinkiness is a wonderful, rich part of the fabric of who I am. I've become comfortable with my submissive sexuality and have developed pride in a trait that I had for years been ashamed of and had kept secret. But with all the stresses of this time in my life my kink feels lost and unmoored. I can hear a distant horn sound in the thick, cold fog but the sea just feels bleak, dark, and forboding.
Sometimes your kink just gets lost for awhile in the tide of a life. It'll come back though. In a couple of months I'll be writing about seeing the first green buds, a rebirth of life here in my middle ages, and I'll be spring fevered over the blooming of open toed sandals. But until then it just feels like the season of the witch. Oh wait...witches are hot!!!
Prostate - Milking vs Orgasm
1 year ago