Tuesday, September 18, 2012

The EverReady Bunny Needs A Boost

So there I was happily groveling on my hands, knees, elbows, hips, and stomach, eating my sushi dinner from in between She-Who-Visits french manicured toes. The spare foot ground my cock into the marble floor. She had made a show of insisting it be "covered" so the condom, with whatever the hell "pleasure enhancer" is, would keep me from actual contact with the sole of her beach worn foot. So as she fed me with one foot and pushed and polished me with the other, we were both caught in perverse bliss. Pedidexterous is her term for her prehensile hooves.

Then all of a sudden, I went limp. Actually, it was agonizingly gradual. I got distracted and eventually I was reduced to flaccid, floppy, frustration.

"Hey Thumper, this is not like you. What's going on?"

What's not going on? Like, maybe I'm tired, (I had packed the car that morning, driven us from Sanibel to Miami, and unpacked us to the condo); or maybe I was distracted because worry for my wife creeps in unexpectedly, (she has great friends who come by when I'm away and a part time caretaker who helps out); or perhaps I was distracted by going to work the next day, juggling She returning her on-line shopping rejects, and getting her to the airport. Nah, nothing going on. But I was not to be deterred.

"I have some Levitra! Let's experiment with better living through chemicals!", I eagerly suggested.

"Oh no, I don't believe in that, even if it is doctor prescribed. Last thing I want is you having a heart attack on me."

"But what about all the meds you take? It's a momentary solution for a momentary problem."

"No, and that's the end of it."

Seemed a little rigid...okay roll your eyes and read on.

Mind you, fifteen minutes before we left for the airport yesterday She got me naked and she foot fucked my brains out to my first orgasm in two and a half months.

But the whole thing got me to thinking that there really shouldn't be any stigma or fear attached to adding a little extra charge in the tank if it's needed. And these marathon chastity sessions are just unnecessary.

Ah well, mostly I'm blessed with a dog's dick; happy, wagging, and loyal. I was just disappointed She didn't want us both to continue our bliss on this rarest of evenings together.

Sunday, September 2, 2012

Finding FetLife

I really don't get FetLife. I love the concept but the place just seems so massive with little opportunity to participate in a real time, on-line community. I also imagine that most people join to meet other people with similar interests, to find play partners, and to search for the elusive special someone. While the site has discussion groups, the posting architecture is cumbersome. When I used to post on Max Fisch I so often felt either immediate or semi-immediate personal contact. I admit to not really giving the FetLife discussion process much of a chance, but it just hasn't worked for me.

The site operators seem to have purposely made it extremely difficult to search out play partners. I can't do a search for dommes between 45 and 65 in the New York City area. This is a big drag. It seems to me that this is pretty basic and would be of tremendous use to all members.

However, this failing has not deterred me and in spite of my critical whining I have had more success on FetLife meeting attractive kinky women than with any other method I've used. It just takes obsessive compulsive desire, of which I am blessed with plenty. You can search by city, state, or country so I just click on NYC and I'm immediately shown 40,237 profiles displayed 16 to a page. Then I begin scrolling in search of connection. And so it was last weekend when I sent a message to an attractive domme. Since I am a veteran of this sort of effort I really expect very little. Dommes get massive amounts of email and IMs. Responding to each is a huge time waster. Plus, I've been told that lots of the communication is not high discourse.

But I got a response and we met for coffee. I arrived early at the cafe and found a seat. It was such a nice day there were no outdoor tables available. Just as I went to sit down she walked up and just stood in front of the place. I had a perfect view from the big glass front facade. Petite and sexy she wore a form hugging white strapless summer dress and carried a large brimmed straw hat. She had long, strawberry blonde hair and an easy, confident looking manner. I just looked.

Then I got up and introduced myself and from there we just talked up a storm. We discovered we'd both had difficulty "converting" non-kinky partners. She had a great sense of humor, a keen intellect, and a mischievous smile. When she got up to get something from the counter and the sun light hit the back of her dress I could see she wore a tiny black thong.

It is always tremendously liberating to be "who-I-am" sex-wise on a first date. She asked what I was into to gauge our compatibility and confessed to being a recent convert to domming, having been a sub for most of her time in the scene. She had all sorts of enthusiastic plans to learn the craft and I immediately offered myself up to guinea pig for her.

We both lead very busy lives but as we parted we promised to be in touch. Later she texted me in response to my electronic thank you note and said she looked forward to seeing what sort of trouble we could whip up. So just maybe, despite my contrary mewling, FetLife isn't such a bad place after all.