FFF

The Boy and I will be at the Fetish Flea in Boston this weekend.
See if you can spot us. I know I haven't given you that much to go on, but I sort of like the idea of being looked for, and more of random people walking up to other random people who are not me, and asking if they are.
More likely this will not happen, as it I think most people who both read this blog and would be going to the Flea actually do know me.
In other news, no real scenes as of late. Nothing planned. Some very Dommy/subby sex of various flavors, and we did some very brief, fully clothed suspension, but no scenes. No hitting. No blindfolding. No roleplay.
I am hoping the Flea will inspire us. I would prefer not to be the couple that runs that one little kink club, and talks about kink, and thinks about kink, and are nominally members of that other kink club, but do not, in fact, participate actively in BDSM.
I know we love theory, but I'm really starting to miss the practice.

Ah, well. Either we will find time or we won't, either we'll be inspired by such things as the Boy's new room arangement (floorspace! airspace! playspace?) and the Fetish Flea, or we won't.
I hope we will, but I've learned it's better not to depend on such things.

Anyhow, hope to see you all this weekend!

That Seatle Crew

One of the things one comes to learn about the Boy (relatively quickly, actually), is that when he likes something, he researches it. I wouldn't call it obsessive, but I probably should. Part of the reason we got so advanced (not actually advanced, but farther than most people who'vve only been doing it a year or so) in Kink was that we researched. We did our homework. And when I say we, I mean the Boy. He got books and read them, he looked at hardtied and other BDSM porn sites, and used them as much for inspiration as for jerk-fodder. He read blogs.
Twisted Monk, Mistress Mattise, Alex of The Red Sneaker Diaries, Goose and Gander, Nerdy Girl. All of these people, these giants of the altsex blogosphere, are just one tiny little group of friends. An artisan rope maker, a professional domina, and the rest of what amounts, more or less, to their seatlebased polyamory cuddle. One big luvin' swingin' floggin' bindin' riggin' sort of family.
They represent the new face of Kink, in alot of ways. Not the Old Guard bike crew of 50's-80's San Francisco, all gay, very exclusive, not the professional domina-oriented het groups of aroundd the same time, nor yet the slightly sickening web-based, Gore-loving communities that begin to grow up today, but something else entirely. They are all real people, who use the web not to meet people but to publish discussions about actual happenings. They are, indeed, masters of their crafts, but they are young(er), they are hip, and they are the beginning of their kink community, and not the end.
I'm not entirely sure, though, that I want to be like them. I mean, of course I do! They're superstars of blogging, of writing, and of kink, all at once! But I am not ready for polyamory, and it colors much of what is discussed. Every time Monk blogs about Dancer and doesn't mention Tambo, I feel a little tiny ache inside. I don't want that in my life.
Goose and Gander, though, are another story. If I had to grow up into Kink, I'd want to grow up into them. They are married and in love and live life and have kids, and they still play, still like it, and only now, after years, have they taken (as a unit, they, the couple), a new play mate. The Boy and I are looking at that, and I think about the honesty with which they blogged the fear and unsettledness that bringing a third into what had been a duo can bring, and the joy they had in playing with her. The idea of a threesome is of course interesting to me, who was once a bisexual, but the nature of my relationship with the boy is unnecessarily, and sometiems unfortunately, complicated. The idea of adding a third to something I still have a hard time believing really is a duo is scary. It helps to think of it as the pair of us and her, instead of three seperate individuals. Looked at as a set of two and a one, it is an opportunity for the Boy and I to combine our wicked skills to bring another person to extreme pleasure, to take joy from mutual dominance or create positions in which one of us puts our loved one into a situation with another person and can watch the pleasure it creates from the outside. Looked at it as a set of three, it's an opportunity to watch my beloved lover make love to another. And that, of course, hurts.
I don't yet have my thoughts on this Seatle Crew really worked out. I admire them and respect them and in many ways want to be like them, but I also value the importance of certain types of monogomy (emotional, mostly), and the more comforting environment we've found with the group. I am taking bits from both of them in forming the little tiny group the Boy and I run, and I hope, someday, to pick a home and create or meld into the kink community there. And I know, for certain, that I don't want it to be entnirely like what I've read about the Seatle Crew. I also know, for certain, that there are alot of things I would wish to be similar.
I just don't want how we think about kink to be totally overshadowed by one group of perhaps 10 people who live across the country. I want to find our own way, and the compare notes once we've figured out who we are. I got these blogs from the Boy, and I've recently found that they are in my site-history, that I visit Goose and Gander and Twistedmonk and Mistress Matisse's blogs every day. And I'm not entirely sure yet how I feel about that.

Well, partly I am. I may be new, and I may be young, and I may bounce around from Michigan to New York to Connecticut, but if I read their blogs religiously, I think they should do the same for mine!

So. Internet-Scanny Seatle-Based Kinksters. If you stumble across this little gem of sex and love and kink, come back to it. Maybe, just maybe, you'll find that I've got something new to bring to your cuddle, just like your writing has brought new things to my life.

Ramble

I went to his house.
The wonderful scene I described last post didn't happen -- club was closed on New Years, which, in the end, was good.
We celebrated it not by being gothy-fetishy in a way we aren't, ussually, nor by being out at a crappy concert, but by doing something deeply, truly US.
We cooked a really fabulous meal (I cooked, he chopped and tasted and advised and companioned) listening to Flogging Molly, we ate it by a fire, we went up stairs and ripped eachother clothes off and went at it like nigh-nymphos who'd been denied eachother for a week, we wandered out, glowing, to the hill outside his house, and as the wind gusted up and the rain began to fall on this warm warm New Years Eve, we watched five or six fireworks displays in surrounding towns, all at once. Instead of champagne we shared a bottle of our favorite hard cider, and went in when we were too cold to stand it, and the fireworks were mostly done.
Later on that night, having been sated once already, he tied me spread eagled to the bed in the guest wing. Either we had sex or he gave me head or both, but I recall being thoroughly sated and happy to be able to burrow into him again.
I see to recall trying to be silent, and having a hard time with it. But that might have been the next night. At times I crawled on the floor and we played like animals, at times I was servile and at times I was dominant. I cannot now recollect any night in its entirety, but all of them were lovely.

The only real note is the acquisition of smartballs. They are much like the chinese zen balls one has as child, either laquered or chrome, that jingle gently and are to be moved in a circle around eachother in one hand, either always touching or never (I forget). They have the same deep inside jingle, which is some small ball or something moving around. There are two of them, silicone rubber and attached by a tough, flexible bit in the middle, and have a cord for withdrawl:



They are inserted vaginally.

My first impression was, I can't feel them. Then, yes I can. That feels weird. I started out sort of waddling, but soon realized I didn't have to. They vibrate, silently and unpredictably. Sometimes they're moving and sometimes they aren't, but they're always strengthening up your vaginal muscles. They are fun for bouncing, and good when one has the leisure to think sexy thoughts. They are not fun at a club especially one at which you want to jump up and down: although they do not tend to for everyday use, they can fall out. And that sucks. But for wandering the house, doing laundry-with-a-tingle, they should be amazing. And I think that in combination with a judiciously used vibrator, they could be really earthshattering.
I will get a new vibrator and tell you all about it as soon as I can.

(A final note: they can be used in anal play, but as they have no taper they are VERY hard to put in. We had the most fun with one ball in and one pressing against the opening: I begin to see the fun of anal beads, but I think something smaller or jelly is necessary. These were pretty intense, and maybe not entirely good.)

Generally, a wonderful sojourn with the boy, and fun new toy, and nothing more to add for a while. Hopefully there will be a week and half of cybersex before the real stuff resumes again.