Find us a girl on cragislist… how bad can it be.

Apparently it’s my job to fish because girls rule the world…. I am beginning to balk at being the one who always seems to be the one bringing in the “other”…. sourcing the talent… of finding the places to go – I was the one who sourced the shed, who took us to swingers parties all of that stuff….  When do I get to ask for a boy…..

Sometimes, being the bi one sucks a bit.  (ahaha… pardon the pun)

But, that’s not the point – the point is if we’re going to build a profile in the hope of finding play partners – we need photos of ourselves as a couple…. where both of us are clothed….

Tricksy for two people who dislike photos as much as we both do.

I haven’t been taking pictures because I wasn’t sure of our ‘status’…. such fucking paranoia.  I think the photo of us kissing at Paronella was our first one…

But going through our pictures – all I see is skin and flesh and hideous…. there are two or three where my tattoos work as a distraction – but in reality…. I have to learn my angles or  just get out of my own head.  Who am I kidding though….

He’s fun… he makes me laugh and pushes me.

I told him last night, between rounds that I think I’m weird.  That I go places in my head when we fuck.  When he spanks me, it takes an effort of will and focus not to drop.  I know it isn’t his kink so I have to stay up at the surface – can’t let myself fall into that space.  I think he likes the response, but he lacks the understanding of just how deep I go, how far down that particular rabbit hole it goes.  And we’re so totally mad here.

I miss it.

I miss the release and the surrender of submission in that truest of senses.  Of being in a space where I exist only as a body in space that is a vessel for use.  Of being told what to do.  Of being with someone who just wants to consume me.  He drops me to the edge of that and then asks questions….  So I tried to explain that I couldn’t answer in that space…. he fucks me into non-verbal and I just want to drift but then the talking pulls the boat back in.  I wonder if that is something I can ever find the words for.

He held me the other day – on the wednesday after Dad’s surgery …. we fucked but then he lay back and beckoned me onto his chest and let me be still.  Normally he recovers and he’s back to normal functioning.  But those moments, he surprises me with the simple sensitivity… and I like being simple.  I have never been seen (or felt) simple.  It’s peaceful.

Oh… for all those women who complain that their men cum then fall asleep – I consider that a freaking badge of honour…. I LOVE it when he falls asleep after.  Not only do I get to watch him sleeping (yes… creepy but swoon) but it is a physiological response – the let down of all of the adrenaline and cortisol and dopamine…. stuff you can’t fake.  I love it.

But back to work – now to the future.



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