Compersion is so fantastic and ever-present for me (even when I’m sexually exclusive) that it gets to go first, and it gets an entire essay to itself. I’ve included a basic definition below for the uninitiated who stumble across this writing (quick, rough definition of compersion is “the opposite of jealousy”). » Read more
I’ve been wanting to write this essay for a while, stopped and started. Floundered.
Because while I feel strongly about the following issue, I find myself reluctant to admit openly that Skyspook and I have had disagreements. Which is ludicrous, really. But I’m a victim of social pressure. So many times have I heard people in relationships proudly proclaiming, » Read more
I remember the first orgasm I ever had for one distinct reason: It terrified me.
It was New Year’s Eve ’97, and I was sitting on my boyfriend Greg’s lap, straddling him as we kissed on the couch, and he fondled my breasts – a Kathy Griffin stand-up special blaring raucously in the background. » Read more
So much work has already been done, sorting out my own head, my feelings, thought patterns, behaviors. And so much lies ahead.
Today, a single thought crystallizes into word form, “He treats me better than a friend, and this is what shocks me.”
I’ve felt this, thought it wordlessly, nebulously, without form – » Read more
May 23, 2011:
I’m in the midst of an incredible romance with Skyspook. He keeps doing things for me that I like, taking me places I like, etc, just because I like them (something I’m not at all used to). Also we are play fighting (hitting, wrestling, biting, etc) with a vengeance – » Read more
As I’m sweeping the floor, I find myself thinking of last night, how you grabbed my hair as I sucked you off and thrust until you came, wild with desire. You’d been so gentle until that moment, polite. I run the thought over in my head, polishing it like a stone, lording over the fact that I’ve learned your body well enough to draw out your animal instincts, » Read more
Growing up, my friends were really good-looking girls, stylish, very popular with the boys. Most of them were rather sexually active because they were desirable, pursued. The hot girls.
I had acne, baby fat, and a habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. I hid my curves behind thermal shirts, » Read more
“Before you treat me, I need to make sure you’re comfortable with a few things.”
“I’m part of the local kink community. I’m really into it. It’s important to me.”
“Kink community?” The look on my therapist’s face is one of sheer confusion.
I sigh. » Read more
I am still lost. A traveler here. But I’ve recognized I have no home where I came from, no place to go back to. This sets my course.
I lost everything I had. I lost very little.
This is not the first time I’ve suffered a great loss, turned my back on people I’ve loved in the name of self-preservation. » Read more
I’ll never forget that night. November 1999, my first semester of college.
I had gone to a party hosted by the music frat. I knew a lot of people there because I played in the jazz ensemble and orchestra, even though I wasn’t in any Greek groups. I was there with J, this beautiful genderqueer boy I had met through the atheist group on campus (having become quite enamored with secular ethics), » Read more