It’s been a while, but that’s sort of how things go. Depression hits in waves, and you think you want to write, but then you’re reminded that nobody wants to read what you have to say.
And then again, it doesn’t matter if anyone is reading, what matters is that writing helps.
Enough of the deep stuff. I have a house!! I rented a house with my housemate (and two children, of course, since Children’s Services frowns on you leaving them behind with the old furniture and hairbands lost behind the bed). HUZZAH! Happy Domme Dance!!
And Special K and I have gotten more intense, since I discovered how deeply, wonderfully submissive he is (“Plastic bag over your head while I fuck you in the ass?* I believe I SHALL, thank you!”). And, in the ever continuing attempt to make this Poly-Thing work, I am even trying to work things out with his other girlfriend, She Who Drives Me Up A Fucking Wall. He sent me a text the other evening, “Hey. Just a heads up that I’ll be posting a photo of Her on my Fetlife page.”
I am duly warned. I took a look at it the next day. I probably could have gone my entire life without seeing her labia, and never felt I missed a beat…. but it wasn’t as upsetting as I thought it might be. Of course, I knew this would happen at some point. Just as she must know that I’ll be posting photos of his outfit from the upcoming rubber and latex event. I’m hoping to put him in something a bit…. extreme. Look away now if, uhhh…. well, you probably shouldn’t be reading this if you’re squeamish, anyway.
I can’t imagine that the Little Pink Princess will be pleased with seeing the man she thinks of as HER Dominant, dressed in an outfit like the above. That’s not my problem, and I’ve done my best to warn her. My conscience is clean, you guys.
I WOULD like to write a bit about how watching Special K lick my latex-covered body helped me develop an increased appreciation for the material, but I think that’s best left for another time. Baby steps, my friend(s). Baby steps through the divorce, depression, and BDSM.
*I am a trained professional. No, seriously. Please do not just randomly throw plastic bags over peoples’ heads when having sex with them. That typically causes DEATH. DEATH makes it difficult to repeat awesome sex with your partner, unless you’re into some SUPER kinky shit………… I’m going to stop typing now.