While working at a small custom frame shop in my mid-20s I answered to an honest, hard-working butch lesbian. The actual owner of the business was an upper-middle class nouveau riche mama’s boy with unresolved homoerotic daddy issues. Somehow, the two formed a dysfunctional symbiotic parental unit that kept the shop running on an even keel. I loved the women in that building like sisters and felt more at home there than with my family, for the most part. Making $8.50 an hour in Memphis, TN was pretty decent and I could do that job in my sleep. A fine place to sit idle and figure out some priorities. Continue reading Art Lover
Category Archives: Art
Leather Hairdresser
I’m glad I waited for the real thing. Continue reading Leather Hairdresser
Sensational Suspense
Getting tied up is a pretty classic fetish. Hanging from the ceiling while tied up is a little more elaborate. In the world of try it before you deny it, I expected to hang once and never again.
The bruises and rope burn coupled with second day soreness is about what I anticipated. The pure joy I felt – completely unexpected. Swinging violently through the air, giggling like a school girl on the playground.
Much like mountain climbing, suspension play takes effort, focus and various carabiners. Those working together must communicate well and trust each other. The end reward is a new perspective on the world around you.
There’s also decorative rope tying. That’s sexy in a different way. I’m excited to explore the bondage side of BDSM further. Next time I’m gonna get my hands tied into reverse namaskar and go for a supported backbend.
Rimble Ramble
My superpower is rooted in the ability to shift perspective. Call it a defense mechanism if you will but I have unleashed the inherent power. Further than a sense of empathy, I can provide a fresh look from any angle. The cost for this is inability to blend in. I cultivate invisibility by hiding in plain sight and it works most of the time. If I’m ever spotted, I use my feminine assets to misdirect and then make a quick Irish exit. Continue reading Rimble Ramble
The HUMP Film Festival
Go see Dan Savage’s HUMP Film Fest if you ever get the chance.
If you need more endorsement than that – I hope to be in it next year!
Uptight
I haven’t see the worst people can lobby against an organization like the CSPC. Not specifically. I haven’t encountered any real complaints about the concept beyond the all-too-common inability of people to accept what they don’t understand. Then again, sex positivity is just now permeating deeper reaches of middle America. My personal experience is tinged with the havoc sex-negative people wreak on society. Gratefully, the Seattle community will continue to provide a strong sex-positive example for many years to come. Continue reading Uptight
In Her Piece
Visiting the CSPC yesterday, I felt introspective. The exhilaration of last week comes with inevitable wear and tear. Fortunately, this isn’t my first rodeo and I listen to the warnings my body gives me. Skipping the party Saturday and giving an erotic massage Sunday helped me recharge slightly. The satisfaction of making someone feel pleasure, especially when they are new to the sensation, is something I enjoy when feeling drained. Not all gratification is related to orgasms. Continue reading In Her Piece
Blood Clot
At very specific times.
I can see why ancient people
Believe sex is evil
Only takes a
dark
crusty
clot of blood
Dropping out of your vagina
After removing a
thick
swollen
wad of cotton.
Following days of passionate sex.
My period this month
Started early.
I blame the whole thing
On Mercury
But it’s more likely
My IUD.
Surprise visits used to
bother me
Knowledge is power
At sixteen
Before the internet was
a thing
A frightened young girl
Might see
Evil in blood
And swear never to do it again.
Right?
Stooping in the shower
Thumb up my pussy
Gliding around the cervix
Sussing out my G-spot.
Feeling extra clean.
DNA detritus
Pooling at my feet.
Happy to be
Right on track.
With what’s best
for me.
Sexual Repression
I didn’t know what the term slut-shaming really meant until yesterday. Hearing the phrase doesn’t sum up the internal burden of secretly loving sex my whole life. In Seattle, I can just say, “I’m from the South,” and most people nod in commiseration. I could detail my specific self-loathing or recall the flavor of bitter I taste but wallowing is self pity isn’t my thing. I’m happy to know myself enough to be here and look forward to the future. Continue reading Sexual Repression