The Day I Humped My Womanizer

It was the weekend after Eroticon and for a couple of days already I felt this twitch in my crotch, alerting me that it was time for an orgasm. The last one had been at my own hand on the Friday morning in Camden, while Master T was downstairs smoking a cigarette. I actually could ... continue reading

Life… grief, depression and disability

Everyone who has followed this blog or my Twitter in the last year knows that my heart is filled with sadness because of my mom’s passing. I have made no secret about the way losing my mom to cancer has influenced me. But, today’s post is not about the grief I feel, but a different ... continue reading

Twenty-One: The Magic Number

Our relationship should never have been. However, there always something that hinted that we were not in the traditional roles society might have placed him in. He was of my mother’s generation, her friend, her confidant but they drifted apart. About two years later he came looking for her, but by then she had left ... continue reading

Shaving vs Waxing

I can really not recall the first time I took a razor and decided it was time to rid my pussy of all its hair. I only remember that I was roundabout 20, but how I felt before and after I had shaved… i have no idea. During the years it became a habit. There ... continue reading

Permission, sort of…

As I have mentioned here before, Master T is not well. It all started with his leg in September 2016 and progressed to a point where in December 2016 he started having panic attacks and hyperventilated almost 24 hours a day. He couldn’t go to his work anymore as driving became to dangerous, but thankfully ... continue reading

Two’s Company, Three’s A Crowd

Many years ago, twenty-three to be exact, I ended up in a relationship with a married couple. I wasn’t seeking a relationship with them. At that time I was on the verge of exploring my bisexuality, but also between relationships when I met them at a party. After the party, he somehow got hold of ... continue reading

Love & Marriage

The first time I got married in 1987, I married for love. Or so I thought. I was eighteen when I met him, twenty when I married him and twenty-two when I divorced him. I really believed that I loved him and that he loved me, but eventually I realized that he manipulated me. He ... continue reading