Writing frustrations

I was working on a great post about my wrist collar, my shackle, but an analogy of mine fell completely apart when I started talking about shoe care. And that took down my big analogy. Damn it. So, instead of being able to save it, I just deleted it all because I realized the point I was making wasn’t clear. It was not such a great post after all.

It’s frustrating when this happens, but being able to say goodbye to a post is certainly a step forward in writing. And a step forward in learning that sometimes what I write isn’t right. So back to the drawing board.

Apart

I am away for almost two weeks. The last time I was apart from Chloe, it was only one week and was a conference in Vegas. So far I’ve been gone one out of the two weeks.

This time I am not alone but have my kids with me. Kids that I don’t see as often as I used to and I try to make up for that with giving them good experiences, which make me focus on them while I’m with them and not other things. It’s not possible to forget about Chloe, but it is possible to be focusing on other things that make me not want or need sex so much. At the beginning of this trip, I was taking advantage of time alone and stroking the long denied cock, because I could and because I wanted to feel that pleasure. That’s gradually trailed off to this morning where I didn’t even bother to touch it at all, outside of the normal guy scratching his nuts when he wakes up.

So, while I’ve been away, my sex drive has dropped, which is okay, because I don’t have a Chloe nearby – to tease me, to deny me or for me to please. So, given that any jacking off will be incomplete, there’s little point in doing so for myself. It’s so much better when I’m able to bring her pleasure and she gets to decide whether I’m going to get any direct pleasure myself.

But I was just commenting to Madame this morning via text that it’s good to miss each other. If we were not apart, we wouldn’t know what we are missing. And that’s a good thing. If I were indifferent about my being apart from her, that would tell a much different tale. A sad tale, to be honest. It would be like my oldest son who has a “girlfriend” with whom he does very little, but doesn’t, as far as I have heard, reach out to her when they’re apart. But that’s young love, they have a different idea of things and that’s okay. They need to learn more aspects of what love is and is not.

But with Madame and I, well, she wrote last night how incredibly horny she was for me. And I too have written similar things back over the past week. We both go to bed at night clutching something that is not our partner. Clutching a pillow does not make a suitable substitute. There is no substitute at all for her being able to clutch her cock and balls while I pet her to sleep. We fit so well together at night that it’s something neither of us can replicate on our own or with any other partner. Even when she has visited other men, she doesn’t sleep in bed with them like she does with me. They don’t spoon like she and I do. And they don’t pet her back and backside like I do.

We simply cannot find substitute nor do we want to find substitute for each other. And the fact that we miss each other is an excellent thing to show us that we are, in fact, the right people for each other. Missing each other hurts, but without it, we wouldn’t have beautiful reunions and beautiful moments of pressing our bodies together again when we reunite.

Missing each other hurts, but the alternative – not caring that we are apart – would be a far worse fate for not just the two of us, but our relationship. So, I miss you Madame, very much. I know we have another week before I return, but “Always toward absent lovers, love’s tide stronger flows.”

Some tiny sense of normalcy

She posted about the difficulties that were coming around in our world, so you’re all aware of that. I’d been away this week house sitting (and dogs and kids) and it was a fortunate turn of events that I was away some of this week, though it was hard to be without her for those nights. I thought I’d be back tonight, but imagine my surprise when the homeowner came back Wednesday night instead of Thursday! Well, I was already well into my cups Wednesday and had plans to work from “home” Thursday, so I stayed through Thursday, made a beautiful brunch of steak and eggs, did my work and left Thursday evening to show up at home and surprise Chloe before she and “The gang” headed over to Troy’s place to enjoy a picnic of Troy’s nosh plate and a ton of food from the nearby mexican place.

I served where I could, helped here and there and we made it a lovely night until the mosquitoes came out, which drove us inside and then shortly thereafter, homeward. Home again and with the evening falling to darkness, we retired to our room where I serviced her, as we had both missed that.

“Get that tongue in there boy… ” “Good boy, you’ve been missed while you’ve been gone.” “Yes, hump that bed, boy… ”

And I serviced and I humped the bed and her hand and I rubbed her back. She told me to calm a bit, then to get my face into her ass while she lay down her body in a comfortable way. We fell into a nap sleep state there, but soon were roused and coupled, and fucked and then went back to the same position again where we fell into a deeper slumber. Until the morning.

But things have some normalcy about them, which is good amid the turmoil. I am back in my place, she in hers, and we just have some extra company a little more often than one might prefer. But it’s temporary and okay. And she and I are good. And we’ll have to watch for tension, but we’ll get through it.

Hard work is good for the soul

We all know this, that working hard at manual labor can release something within ourselves that is healing. I have done all the hard work in helping set up this place to be a beautiful space for people to play and fuck and get their PYL on. And that’s awesome. While setting all this up I work with a good dozen or so people that are all just out there kicking ass and taking names and just getting it done. We throw canvas, we move the things, we make it all work. We encounter problems and overcome them. We sweat. Holy hell do we sweat. We go through gallons upon gallons of water. We eat because we’re either starving or because we know our bodies need fuel, even if the heat is telling us “No, sorry, not hungry”. More salt on those eggs please. More water.

And at night, we party strong too. The last three nights have been very busy in the party department, but all within good boundaries. Things have been pretty good and hoisting a cold one with these comrades on the crew is always a highlight of the event for us. Even though we get comped into the event for 4 wicked long days of work, I’d still be happy to be on the crew and keep working beside these people. It’s inspiring to work with these folks.

And as I’m writing this, I’m thinking that I owe it to these folks to go out there and get my fucking kink on and do what it is that I do. Where the hell are my clothespins?

On writing…

Not to be confused with another Mainer that wrote a title like that.

I’m at camp, Chloe and I have done all the set up things and things look good. It’s raining (All due respect to Allan Sherman) and breakfast is over and I haven’t found my camp inspiration yet. But it’s okay. At the moment, I’m finding some solace in peeling away from the world, sitting in the one room that gets wifi and writing perhaps a few short blog posts, which I’ll schedule to come over the following days.

At least, at camp, I can write in the nude. But this is certainly not me. ;)

At least, at camp, I can write in the nude. But this is certainly not me. ;)

Right now, however, given my lack of mojo, I’m thinking about writing. I like doing it and I’m enjoying the time and ritual of finding that space to write and I can dash off a few ‘pages’ in no time. But then I do just one proof and hit publish and it’s out there in the world. I don’t edit as much as I should. And that’s okay, to be honest. “Writers write” is the mantra and it’s true. Does my writing my blog make me a writer? Kinda? I write. I’m writing, I’m learning more. I am, in fact, practicing. After all, nobody steps up to the plate and smacks out home run after home run the first time. This is a good field trial.

Add to that writing portion of things that I am learning about myself, my kink and my relationships in the same breath and that’s even more helpful.

I will find my mojo while here. And I will make it work. Of this, I am positive.

 

Travel time

I like watching the TSA guy look at the screen and shake his head. I’m amused to no end. Was it the steelheart? Other things in the bag? Who knows. A pretty benign pack this time. But something made them shake their head. At least I didn’t try and hide a thing. I thought for sure they’d ask to see my razor, as it’s a double edge safety and my reading online tells me to expect a search 50% of the time, as they look for the blades, which I don’t have.

Am traveling. And yes, I packed the Steelheart and am going to get locked up in a couple minutes, once I’ve finished with my pre-flight lubrication. By which I mean beer. Madame didn’t request my lockup, but it seems like a good thing to do. I’ll be away from her, in sin city, and will have some measure of time on my hands – which I’m filling with some extracurricular activities.

Tomorrow, we hope for pics of this dog around Lake Mead. Am going to try and make naked April happen with a dip in the water. I’ve heard that rangers are not favorable to this behavior, but all one has to do is go where most people do not go. I believe that leaves many square miles of space. So, Hoover Dam? Valley of Fire? Lake Mead? I’m coming for you! Don’t give up on that 80 degree prediction tomorrow, I’m very happy to take advantage of that. I even bought some TSA approved sunscreen! And a hat that Madame won’t mind if I lose on the journey. I did NOT, however, spring the extra $ for the convertible rental car. That was just too much. And when I looked, all the convertibles had been rented, so I’d have had to rent from ANOTHER location. Not willing.

 

So, let’s see if I can find a power outlet in JFK for my layover. I hear Casey Neistat is traveling today, maybe I can run into him in JFK.

Is that a naked man over there?

Is that a naked man over there?

Renewed blog

Unfortuantely, the transfer from the old server to the new server failed, most likely due to some improper configuration before the old server went away. This is the way of things sometimes, but it allows us to wipe the slate clean, make things neater in the backend (computer geeky term) and have the front end look better as a result. Expect adjustments as I continue to configure and add back in all the plugins I had in the past. It’s been a nuisance to try and figure it out, unfortunately, I didn’t make good enough notes before. Bear with us. In the meantime, expect more frequent posting as we continue forward.