I'll Give It To You Right

After a week in the sun the frigid Hudson river wind cuts at my spirit like a hard sell Ginsu knife; my partner on my pre-dawn ritual run. But spring is around the corner with its promise of re-birth and re-awakening. For the first time in I can't remember I have no dommy crush girl. At least not one who lives within a subway ride of my done up subbie bachelor digs.

If there was anything to break, I broke up with Crush Girl a few weeks ago. She was surprisingly shocked I'd do such a "dismissive" thing. Did I really owe all that much consult and confer energy based on two dates in three months? And Ms. Mah Wah Kiss and I are no longer Best Flirt Friends. Funny how sometimes getting to know people better either brings you closer or sharply crystalizes why they are chronically solo despite wanting the Manhattan equivalent of a white picket fence and 2.1 children.

So when the mercury actually breaks into the 60's with at least some consistency, maybe my chilled heart will thaw. I need a prowling strategy. How to more consistently run the risk of catching the roving eye of an attractive dominant? A domme friend told me the other day she thought I was doing all the right things. Getting out and about, having scene friends, maintaining my mysterious menage with She; all things that lots of subbie guys want.

So with the promise of the flash of leg, the intoxicant of toe cleavage, and a gaze fixed on the lickable underarm - I'm ready. I'll give it to her right, and she'll be satified. Or at least hurt me if she's not.