15 October 2012


I own a girl. A beautiful girl. Smart, sexy, silly, serious, and
stubborn. Like that alliteration?
Friday night, she pointed out that we've gotten halfway through our
contract and just sort of stopped. Stymied on how to write out in
words what we want, what we feel, how we love.

Because I am lazy, i set it aside to work on later.

And then, as it does, life happened.

I got sick.
The baby got diaper rash.
D got snippy.
Work got busy.
JJ got in trouble with school.

Life happened.

And as so often happens to all of us, dynamics and lover-ships got put
on the back-burner for the necessity of being co-parents, grown-ups,
employees, and PTA members.

Friday night, our girl called us out on it.

Saturday night, we put her training collar on.

No, it isn't the collar we'd intended- in fact, one of the reasons we
put things on hold was because we couldn't agree one what collar we
*do* intend! But it works until we finish bickering about our
preferred styles.

Our girl is wearing a thin leather cord with my opal ring. It sits
perfectly on her neck, and every time I see it I have to fight the
urge to grab her by the hair and kiss her senseless.

03 September 2012

Without words

I don't know the words...

flashes return.

The clamp of her thighs across my face, the scarlet heat of her body
convulsing around my tongue. The salty-sweet taste of her, cumming
over and over and over.

D's mouth on my breast, her lips soft on my most private ones. The
gentle lap of her tongue and the heat in her eyes as she brings me
over the edge.

Her weight across me, the writhing of her hips as D toys with her
pussy and ass. The warm trickle of her juices across my thighs as she
cums for him.

D's heat sliding inside me, the clamp of her hand and the lust in her
eyes as he fucks me. D's groan of ecstasy as I surround him, my own
desperate pants.

The taste of her breast as he fucks her. The slap of their bodies and
the heat of her throat in my hand as he cums inside of her.

The warm, snuggly afterglow of their bodies pressed against mine as we
curl into one another, thankful for this life, this relationship, this

...as my husband so colorfully expressed it last night: "I am one
lucky motherfucker... that's a whole lotta sexy in my bed."

02 September 2012

A life of joy

This is my life of joy. I am covered in sand, about to take a shower. The baby has had a bath from his first dirt-eating episode, and my 5 year old stepson is freshly showered himself. I am covered in sand from the playground today, where we taught T to swing himself.
The washing machine is chugging in the background while my shower heats up, and there is a sign on my wall that says, "I love you because...". It is framed and has a blank space beneath where my husband has written, "you're a wonderful wife and my beat friend."
Our girl will be home from work soon, and she will enter our home where I am cooking her dinner and go to her knees in my kitchen to receive her kiss of greeting. This is my life of joy.

We will eat meatloaf, and salad, and talk about our days, and maybe watch a silly tv show. My baby son will fall asleep in her arms and I will tuck her 5yr old into bed, and we will curl up together for grown-up time before I go to work tomorrow while they are off.

And tomorrow D will watch the children so Akasha can unpack and organize her house in peace, and I will text them both from work... missing them but a little grateful to be out of the unpacking. Tomorrow night, a vanilla friend will join us for dinner and we will cuddle, and feed the baby, and eventually take our beautiful girl to bed and fuck her senseless before cuddling in a warm and loving puppy pile.

This is my life of joy.

Sent from my Verizon Wireless Phone

01 September 2012


This is supposed to be my evening of alone-time. D & Akasha are together, the baby is asleep, and I am finally able to truly just relax and be entirely alone without weight of expectations or needs.
I love my partners with everything in me, but true alone-time is an increasing rarity in my life.

Instead, I am thinking about the Navigator tonight.

I have just finished re-reading a piece of erotica we co-wrote, passing it semi-randomly while looking for another document on google and clicking on it from pure nostalgia.

What we wrote was never truly on the table in real life, it was a fantasy that even the one wonderful night we did have could never truly live up to... no experience, no matter how amazing, can match 3 years of fantasy and pent-up desire.

But reading that story, remembering the heat of his lips on mine and the faint hint of worked metal that he always seems to carry rubbed into my skin from his own... I miss him.
I know that we are never meant to be, and I wouldn't leave my husband, my girl, or my son.
But it has been over a year since I have seen his face, heard his voice, or smelled the warm scent of his skin on mine, and I miss him.

I miss the comfort of being curled up with him and bullshitting about everything from cars to the insanity of women's fashion. I miss the warmth of his hands in my hair and the easy comfort of working beside him painting, landscaping, or writing a paper.
I miss the solid trust in his friendship and the pleasant sexual tension that never quite went away.

I know that my life right now, and the relationships I'm in, do not allow for the same relationship that he and I once had. I have no idea if he would even find my post-partum body attractive, with its stretch marks, widened hips, and still slightly flabby belly. I do not like my body now the way that I once did, do not trust its sexual power the way that I once did, do not have faith in the responses my body once drew.

I know that another man in my life is not in the cards for a variety of reasons, and that one as alphic as the Navigator would be a disaster to the delicate balance of my polyamory.
I know these things, and I do not regret the life I have chosen.

But tonight, I will let myself remember the warmth of his arms around me, the conscious tenderness of his kiss, and the hot metal and male scent of his skin rubbed into mine.

22 August 2012

Her Words

My beautiful, amazing, articulate girl wrote this in the wee hours of the morning, regarding last night. I'm blessed that she allowed me to share her words, because mine are inadequate.

 Lying in your arms feels so perfect. Your flesh pressed into mine. The tangle of bodies. Your heat feeds my soul. I want so badly to run my hands over you. To stroke you gently and lovingly. But I know my hands are rough on your delicate skin, and I know that you find the tender touch I would give offensive and I don't want to risk you feeling as though I was trying to tickle you. I want this. This moment. This connection. You are such an anomoly to me and I find that frustrating yet challenging. I love you here--well, I love you everywhere, but here in this place where I get the slightest glimpse into your heart will always be my favorite. I lay beside you and know why it is important to have alone time enough to build connection with you both. This is about so much more then sex. This place is where I will fall for you. This place is where the hurt happens. These moments have to happen if we are to progress. I listen as you give me pieces of your puzzle and I will slowly put you together in my head.

     I love it when you touch me. When you force your tongue into my mouth. Your hands on my flesh. The passion in it all. Feeling your teeth graze my flesh melts me. You fuck me and I am yours. My body opens to your strokes, my flesh split by your hands allowing you to take me over.  I can feel that you want to be rough, but you are still hesitant. It is ok in this place to hurt me, love. My flesh is yours to take in any way you see fit. I will cum for you over and over again because your teeth grab me, your hands force me down. Because it is you. Because I bend to your will. Because it is here I give myself to you. This is me. This is the physical representation of how I feel for you. And as you take it the circle is complete.

     When you hurt me I feel your love because wordlessly I share years of your pain. That sharing heals your wounds and mine. It allows me to feel good enough to share it with, allows you power over your fears and acceptance of all that you are without judgement. It gives me the ability to touch the darkness and show you that even in this I will still love you--that in essence you are worthy, you are good enough, and to prove it I will physically go through hell and back for you and I will still love you in spite of yourself. I will not run. When you mark me I bear witness to our union. When you fuck me like nothing more then property to be used you remind me that I am yours. This is my safe place. That vulnerability that you need happens here. The reassurance that I need happens here. After the walls are shattered- when all the facades recede, when I no longer rely on my strength and can stand stripped of pride, stripped of obligation, stripped of fear, and still be the one you want. 

17 August 2012

Muggy day

It's hot, muggy outside- Georgia in August.
I am sweating through my Pink Floyd t-shirt, and I can feel my
sunglasses slipping off of my nose from oil and sweat. It isn't a sexy
We are at your storage building, and the sun is beating down on both
of us as Rammstein blares from my car. Your polo shirt is stained from
working out here, and half of the storage unit is unloaded onto the
concrete pad as you dig for the lawnmower and weedeater you are
loaning us.
This isn't a sexy feeling, isn't a sexy situation. So why do I want to
wrap you in my arms, set my teeth in your neck, and drive every
thought out of your head except the taste of my skin?

14 August 2012

An Update on Life

So much has changed since I wrote last, so I suppose this should just be an update.

Boywonder and I were married in November of last year. I had my beautiful son in January. Yes, I know, that’s not the usually preferred timing. D (Boywonder) and I had already discussed getting married and having children when I found myself pregnant. We chose to keep it, and simply escalated our timeframes for everything.

Pregnancy was very hard for me. I don’t like being out of control, and pregnancy isn’t something that was in my control at all. I hated that. I hated my body changing without my permission, I hated being sick, or tired, or sore, and not knowing why or what to do about it. I hated feeling off-balance, emotional, and scared.  Childbirth didn’t scare me… motherhood did. It still does, but I’m learning that that’s a feeling common to all parents.

Childbirth was…. Awful. I know a lot of women romanticize it, or forget what it was like, but I can’t and I won’t. I never want to go through that again. Ever. With that said, my birth was easy as births go… D played with the pressure points in my ankles on a Saturday morning as a way of avoiding going to a funeral, but no dice. However, that night I started to have contractions, just very far apart. I slept Saturday night without much trouble, but Sunday morning the contractions became regular. By Sunday afternoon we were en route to the hospital, but they sent us home. We returned a few hours later, much to the nurses’ amusement… but they were wrong, because within 2 hours of us arriving, my little Bonkers was born. I had a waterbirth, despite changing my mind and wanting drugs. They didn’t get back to me in time, not believing my labor was progressing so quickly, so by the time  the midwife came to check on me, it was time to push. 20 minutes later, my son was in my arms. D cut the cord.

I was… ambivalent, to say the least. I remember thinking, as they set him in my arms, “Kid, you’d better be a fucking Rhodes Scholar or some shit to make this worth it.” I did not receive the endorphin rush of love many women talk about, and in fact didn’t like the baby very much at first. I cared for him, nursed him, and cuddled him more out of obligation than anything else. I ended up with very severe post-partum depression, which thankfully a dear friend finally made me see. Going on medication was a godsend, and I finally fell in love with my son. He is beautiful, and cheerful, and sweet, and terrifyingly precocious.

He was born on the Chinese New Year, in this the Year of the Water Dragon. My little Dragon Baby.

Needless to say, my kink life has slacked off a lot due to the stress, exhaustion, and preoccupation of life with an infant. Thankfully, a lot of loved ones have stepped up to the plate to help us out. Jack, my darling former partner- who never wanted kids!- is currently Bonkers’ nanny. No, I’m not kidding. Once he starts back at school, Amber, 2011 Ms SELF and dear friend, will be alternating days with Jack.

Meanwhile, a dear friend has become so much more. We met Lakasha through the Kinky Parents group I started here in Atlanta, and got to know she and her wife. We became pretty close, particularly Lakasha and I. During the family camping trip we took over Memorial Day, she and I spent most of the 2 hour ride discussing hooking up our spouses… and it turns out that they were discussing the same thing.

D & I took it slow, having been burned several times now by girls who seemed interesting, but didn’t suit what we were looking for, and we were concerned about a likely drama-bomb of their relationship which seemed like it would be problematic soon.  We are actually pretty glad that we did, because their relationship didn’t last much longer.

After Lakasha’s wife moved, we became closer and closer, and it wasn’t long before we were dating. It was even less time after that before I feel in love with this smart, beautiful, strong, and loving woman. She is incredibly submissive, service-oriented to a sometimes terrifying level, and has scars I recognize in my own mirror.

She is exactly what D & I have been looking for- passionate but pragmatic, beautiful with no idea of it, ambitious but loving, and just generally amazing. She has a lot of life changes going on right now, which definitely complicates the beginning of a relationship, but she is handling all of it with formidable strength of will. It scares me a little to be almost the only solid thing in her evolving life right now, but I know that when she comes out the other side of all of this, we will all be stronger and better.

On a more pragmatic note, I also started a new job at the end of July. I work helpdesk for law firms, and so far I love it. The office environment is casual and friendly, and we are encouraged to be familiar (within professional limits) with our clients. I’ve already made several friends here, and I look forward to a good long run here… and possibly a career, as I’m setting my sites on their HR Department.

So that’s my life right now in a nutshell. Busy, loving, joyful, stressful, silly, serious, and wonderful.

About Me

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I am just your ordinary average every day sane psycho supergoddess