Honored

Lately I have been feeling like so much of a non-blogger. Writing infrequently. Having sex infrequently. And yet, here I am!

Thanks to Madeline for including me in this weeks Fleshbot Roundup. It's an honor.

And thanks to my buddy the Bunny for giving me the heads up.

Doesn't Play Well With Others, or...

I don't like to share.

There are some things I love to share with others. I love to share a meal, music that I love, I love to share the company of my friends with the company of my other friends, I love to share good books I've read, a cup of tea, a blanket if it's cold, my toys, my time and, of course, my opinion.

I don't, however, like to share partners without knowing I'm sharing them. Meaning, if you're dating me then, well, you're dating me. You're not also dating someone else. Or other someone elses. I require, in a word, exclusivity. I'm pretty damn clear about this. Always have been.

It's this issue that has brought an end to my relations with our linguist here. It's too bad because that was some fun, but I know my limits fairly well and this is a hard one. (A hard limit, I mean.)

Ah, well. Win some, lose some.

Thank God for masturbation and an active imagination.

Boogie Nights

There's a party tonight. Yes, one of those parties. And I'm going. Somewhat alone. I'll be with a friend and her occasional fellow, but I suppose that essentially will put me on my own. To which I am not averse. I like the freedom.

Of course, we know I don't really want all that much freedom. Tie me up and my heart sings.

The theme of this party is Boogie Nights. Which, in effect, makes the theme the 70's and early 80's. A period with which I too had Farrah Fawcett hair and did too much coke. Porn wasn't much in the mix for me, but I'm a late bloomer.

My outfit won't be exactly a period piece, but close enough. I'm in it for the dancing and whatever trouble I can get myself into. Or, whatever trouble (read: cock) can get into me.

Stay tuned, loved ones.