The brief moment between the swing and the sting of the dressage whip seems to span eons. Sometimes he’s a bastard and swings it so I’ll hear it and think the pain is coming, just so he can watch me wince. Like Lucy pulling the football away from Charlie Brown at the last instant.
But not this time. » Read more
“Thank you so much,” she says, wrapping me in a hug before she steps into the cold. “We had a great time. Page, you’re a wonderful hostess.”
I tell them I love them, wish them well. I beam.
“Thank you for coming to our party.”
Back in the summer of 2003, » Read more
It’s a valid question. Once upon a time I was in a vanilla (i.e., non-kinky) monogamous heterosexual relationship. We met through mutual friends, dated for 4 years, and got married. After another 4 years of being together, we opened the relationship up to other people.
There was a party we threw back in January 2009 before the big move, » Read more
These days I’m polyamorous in spirit, monogamous in practice. It feels disingenuous to claim that I am one or the other completely. Even though my current relationship is monogamous, meaning that we are sexually exclusive, I have learned so much from experiencing polyamorous relationships that I will never be the same person I was before. » Read more
He sees me outlining the cartoonish bruises on my breast. I hear his laugh and became totally aware of what I’m doing. I must be getting that dreamy look on my face again. He leans in, his hot breath on my neck. “Awww… you’ll be lording over those all week. Every time you glimpse your cleavage. » Read more
That first bite of fried egg hit my tongue and sent my whole mouth into paroxysms of joy. Just a kiss of butter, the white so delicate and chewy, medium hard yolk melting, sending shivers down my spine. It was as good as anything I’ve ever eaten while stoned. And we were both perfectly sober. » Read more
Photo by em-volleyball-1-6 /CC BY
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