I love a sombre B&W erotic photo as much as the next person, but sometimes I can’t resist pushing the envelope of post-production filters and the extreme, graphic results you can get with just a few taps of your finger. This is from a batch of pics I snapped a couple weeks ago. I love…
I just published a post called Daddy’s Boy. It took me a bit of thinking to decide on the words, I had the image but somehow the words just wouldn’t come. I think I was afraid. Blogging can be a very myopic hobby. It’s easy to get totally into your own stuff and there’s no…
He’s a good boy. He’s smart and educated, , confident, kind and funny. He’s generous and affectionate, he’s curious and thoughtful, and an excellent boyfriend. He turns me on. He pleases me. He’s submissive and eager to please. He is creative and kinky. He’s masochistic. He’s suggestible and pliant. He’s obedient. He’s a slut for…
“Love is not simply giving; it is judicious giving and judicious withholding as well. It is judicious praising and judicious criticizing. It is judicious arguing, struggling, confronting, urging, pushing and pulling in addition to comforting. It is leadership. The word “judicious” means requiring judgment, and judgment requires more than instinct; it requires thoughtful and often…
I had a kink “a-ha!” moment the other day. It was fascinating and exciting and I can’t stop thinking about it. Allow me to paint you a picture. I was seated on the sofa in my livingroom, and Loverboy was on all fours, ecstatic to be gagging on the front half of my right foot,…
I’ve never wanted to hurt someone more. I’ve never felt safe enough to hurt someone so much. He likes the pain, but it’s the endurance that he craves. I want to suffer for you. Are there any sweeter words? Is there any greater symbol of devotion? What two forces are more central to the human…
If he should be so lucky as to find himself in my lap … If I offered him a turgid length of silicone to slide down … If I let him writhe and buck and ride my cock in the gorgeously soft halcyon glow of an August afternoon … This is what I’d see. Who’s…
Standing between your knees, looking over you laid out across the table, I’m aware of how vulnerable you must be feeling. It’s not your shifting eye contact or the tense way you have rested your arm across your stomach, just a little too high as if it’s in an invisible sling, it’s the way you…