Gonna Take A While For This Egg To Hatch

Somehow Thanksgiving just doesn't inspire my perv side like the week between Christmas and New Year does. But despite all life's current challenges and difficulties I am very thankful. I have lots of new kinky friends. I get to go have Thanksgiving dinner with the same folks I've done the holiday with for twenty two odd years and my wife and I will eat together and be happy to see each other.

I have a kinky dance partner and though I know the studio and instructors are just hustling us, they all say we're hot.

And then there's the new crush girl who is cooking dinner for 20 and called me the other night from the grocery line just to say hi. And even though my condo deal in Miami went south and I won't be going to Art Basal with Ms. Mah Wah Kiss; I have my license to practice in the sun.

I'm to bring soda, near beer, and cigars today and on the way back, my playlist produced this goodie which made me think of my kinky new crush girl. Sometimes I'm just a teenage girl.

Holly Came From Miami FLA

Upheaval, cataclysmic transition, adjustment as agonizing as it is thrilling. But at bottom, it is all about change.

A few months ago I sat in the Fort Lauderdale aiport, writing my blog having come up short. Today as I write, I'm a sworn member of the club (I'm told there's a secret handshake), I have an office, and I am reviewing a lease for a huge, cheap, sleek, apartment with a free parking space. For a Manhattanite - this is shangri-la!! My dream of being a bi-east-coastal big shot is upon me. Now the trick is to get work.

On the other hand, my wife has been diagnosed with a horrible neurological condition that may in fact lead to an utter dissembling of any remote quality of life and cause the most horrible of swift, but torturous deaths. We find out more just after the first of the year.

I could talk about riding waves or the best of worst times or worst of best times. But figure if I show up each day and reach for the strength to be present; I'll be here to deal.

Not much kink. Just a lot of life with its fractured and frustrating flights of fancy and fear. I just f'd the f out of that, huh?

Snapshots

Me...I'm learning how to lead on the dance floor and she's trying to learn to follow. It would be hilarious if she'd relax and admit she's a domme. We're actually getting quite good together, though I've given up thinking there's any chance of sexual combustibility.

But on Wednesday night when I got up to offer the other one, the new blind date, the wall seat at the little local neighborhood restaurant where everyone seems to already know my name she said, "Of course I'd like that spot, and you should immediately sit here", she smiled and pointed to the outside chair. Be still my heart! Senorita Kinky did pre-screen!

Our conversation just flitted and flowed from this subject to that one. She asked if our mutual friend had told me anything about her and I said only that she was beautiful. It made her eyes sparkle and her glossed lips curve into an appreciative smile.

"So do you do both roles", she asked.

"You mean am I a switch?" I asked. "Well let's put it this way, I'm actually learning to lead on the dance floor. Does that count?"

She laughed.

I yattered on.

"Well, I have this dear friend who thinks it's a team sport and you should choose a side," I smirked a bit. "But life is change, who knows. Stranger things could happen."

She held my hand as we waited on Hudson for a cab to take her home. I put my other hand over hers and softly ran my fingers around her fingers. I lingered a bit. As the cab pulled up she took my face in both hands and kissed me, just left of my mouth, long and slow. I helped her in, shut the door and began the two block walk home.

I reached for my phone as I passed by the Louboutin boutique and to my surprise there was a message.

"You're supposed to wait and watch as the cab pulls away. You are out of practice. Naughty, naughty."

Somos novios? Hmmm...maybe I'm jumping the gun just a bit. But maybe, just maybe, I'll get some practice one of these fine evenings after all.

Sometimes A Heart Is No Place To Be Singing From At All

For years I told lies to satiate powerful sexual desire. Through three long term relationships; two marriages and a serious five year girlfriend - I just heaped lie after mendacious invention after bald faced, flat-out fib on the pile of pursuing personal perversion. Now as I begin a difficult struggle to rid my body of a new, inadvertent craving; I realize I was an addict. For me, the white hotness of the secret sneak to the forbidden was an irresistable narcotic.

By saying this I make no accusation of enabling. Most prodommes totally rock. Some of the women I saw helped me so much. One has become the dearest of friends who will have to mercilessly drive me off if she wants to dump me. I am hers.

But I can also be another's. And even another's. Because there's room in my life. And just like the benzos will be gone, I am mostly free of desperate double crossing deceit. Secret sex has become merely private. It's my business.

Ms. Mahwah Kiss worries that I'll be "caught". She worries that someone will "out" me and I will be "discovered". What? The New York Post will find my blog and do some sort of salacious story about how a respected lawyer is actually a perv? Could my livelihood be affected? I guess so. But it's who I am. This blog and the open references I sometimes make to liking "controling women" have taken something I used be ashamed of and made it into a creative celebration. Welcome to 2010. I say bring it.

Bring it...and I'll deal.

That's why I was so disappointed to be lied to this past week by someone I'd hoped wouldn't have to be like me and hide. Look, I understand. It's supported by every right in the world. But it made me sad.

Sad for all the lies I'd told my wife. How I had repeatedly gaslighted her and denied the incontrovertible. How she'd believed me; until the next time and the time and again after that. My thirty three year surreptitious stealth eroded any semblance of intimacy.

Do I "man-up" by separating and dating kinky? For me, I have no choice. I choose me. I choose to get off my lovely mommy helpers because I miss the anxious, nervous, quivering little guy who said "I think I can, I think I can" often enough to become a successful professional and a proud perv all in one.

Do I risk?

Hell, yeah I risk!

But this is life affirming risk worth taking. We are gorgeous, glittering, outlaws. Why constantly hide all that beauty? I'm not notifying the media mind you. Reasonable precaution is mandatory and wise. But neither do I always screen, veil, and shroud. I don't guiltily inter the marvelous anymore. But that's me. And I'm feeling good about it these days.

"But all at once the world can overwhelm me, there's almost nothing you could tell me, that could ease my mind"