And now for something completely different.

Because boozy tramps get spanked.

I'm cruising to Kara's place and decide that I'm in the mood for dirty martinis. Lately, I've discovered jalapeno-stuffed olives, which add a subtle and eye-opening zing to them. I text her as I pull off the expressway.

Me: Got gin? Wamme to bring jalapenolives?

Kara: I'd love to kick back and enjoy martinis with you, but only am able to have a little and still be decent at work tomorrow. And it's hard for me to only have one cuz I really like them. :(

Me: I'll keep you in line, you saucy tart. ;)

Kara: Ha! That's ALMOST a challenge!

Me: Yer a gin-soaked trollop who needs to be put in her place. A lush, a speakeasy wanton whose bloomers are due for an unbloomin'. Boozy tramps like you should be spanked. So there.

Kara: Yes *hic* sir! :p

Me: I'll expect you to say that when you're across my knee, after you've counted each firm, cupped swat to your tender ass. Hiccups are optional.

Kara: 1 *hic* 2 ... *hic* ... 5 ... 6 *hic* ... 9 ... :)

Me: Kara. Kara, Kara, Kara. You're forgetting "yes, Sir." Now we're going to have to start all over again. With the paddle. So, stand up... tips to toes...

Kara: Oooh! Okay ... 1 ... 2 *hic* 4 ... 5 ... Oh shoot, I missed "3" ... 3 ... 4 ... 5 ... No, wait, I counted those already ... Better start over *hic* ... 1 ...

Me: *eyeroll* I think it's the boarding school for you, hussy. You require immediate and sustained remediation. Poor you.

Kara: Oh. ... And ... Yes, Sir!

Kara: *hic*

The good samaritan.

I'm taking public transit to work, and decide to send Kara a random, naughty textmessage.

Me: Wanna fuck? ;)

Kara: Uh... Do you think that's wise while riding the streetcar? ;)

Me: At least it'll help justify the fare increase!

Kara: Ha ha! So good of you to provide sex shows for a good cause ... How can a girl say no? ;)

Me: Ain't I civic minded? What a samaritan. Now get over here and hold this pole while I pull your pants down...

Kara: Oooh ... Yes, sir!

Me: ... mmm. Yeah, that's nice... Fuck, you have an awesome ass, baby. ... Oh, wait!..could you get us some transfers?

Kara: Oh, certainly, as long as you are pumping me from behind ...

Me: You love being taken from behind, don't you, waif?

Kara: Yes I do ... And I think the riders will enjoy the view too ... ;)

Sunday comics.

She was on top.

What I remember most was the quiet, the darkness, the faint stillness, the slow and languid way you rose and fell on my body as you took all of me inside of you.

I remember holding your hips, warm and giving, and of holding your broad and round ass, round and generous, and of holding your thighs, thick and firm, as they clamped at either side of me and anchored you. Your breasts were round and full, heavy in my hands when I gently gripped them with outspread palms. I held them still, squeezing them, as you leaned closer to me to ride my cock harder and faster. You panted as you rested your forehead to my shoulder, panted right into my ear as I pumped my hips upward to drive my cock into your body. I could feel your wetness on my balls, my thighs, and as I held your ass with outspread fingers.

The window was frosty. The night snow tinked on the glass. You fucked me, rode me, until you shuddered and came on top of me. You threw your head back when you did. You were so lovely.

I had to be up early, and you had had a few drinks at the party where you danced with your magazine friends. We cuddled and drifted to sleep because it was late. My arm coiled over your torso as you lay on your side, your pendulous breast inside of my hand as I drifted.

It's probably because I write a sexblog, withmy attention being drawn to times and places, that I remember this. Our last fuck happened on a cold late January night, and I remember it being four years since. It hardly seems that long.

Magic words.

It always pleases me to receive a personal note from a reader, and I like corresponding. Once in a while, you share a personal concern or question, and both the writer and the Top in me take pleasure in sharing what I can from the path that my leather boots have clattered upon. It feels shamanic in a way, as part of the reason I do this blog at all is to share my stories for the benefit of you-all: an openminded, revolutionarily sex-positive tribe of people.

A reader emailed me recently. She asks that I not mention names (not that I would have used her actual name anyway), so let's call her Young Kinkster.


Young Kinkster asks:

I think that, ironically, I may be kinkier than my older boyfriend, even though he was my first time. I don't really know how to propose to him some of the things that I've considered. I mean, other than the built-in ageplay that comes with dating someone so much older than I am, is there a non-awkward way of asking someone to be your Top without making them exceedingly disconcerted by same? Any magic words that work, from your experience, on older men from fairly younger girls? I've been reading your blog for some time.


All words are magical for this. That is to say: what you need is open, clear, courageous, vulnerable, delicious communication.

Throughout our lives, the odds of finding a partner with whom we're totally sexually compatible is pretty slim, and all relationships will sooner or later require compromise and understanding. When we pursue our journeys, we discover more and more about our sexual selves, and this changing wave to our own sexy vibe will continue to keep things interesting. Like with food and music, our tastes with sex can often broaden with time and experiences.

You're in a glorious world of discovery. Go you! But because your partner is also your first lover, there is still so much ahead of you to see, do, be, feel, learn, experience, climax over. You've also come of age (and I am counting on that fact that you're of legal age, because you attested to that to even have access to this blog) in a time where there is an abundance of good, solid sexual information out there for you to explore, including topics kink-related.

I have no doubt that you are bright and intelligent. But don't do yourself the grave disservice of believing that you are invulnerable to being taken advantage of, or lied to, or otherwise deceived into an unpleasant situation (and most especially if you are choosing older partners). My own experience in the kink community has almost always been positive, but that doesn't mean that there aren't some people in the world who don't know how to play by the rules.

You owe it to yourself to learn all you possibly can about the nature of safe, sane, consensual play. This is a credo I first learned when I was active with the New England chapter of the National Leather Association, and its principles will be upheld in any self-respecting leatherbar, playparty, or social event. Leave any location, any relationship, that compromises its principles. An informed kinkster is a safe and happy kinkster, and never forget that there'll always be something new for you to learn.

The age difference between yourself and your partner may not be as much of a complication for you as you might think. It isn't unusual for one imaginative partner in any relationship to discover something to their sexuality that they may fear their partner doesn't necessarily share. But in a sexually positive, nurturing, and rewarding relationship, each is interested in listening to each other, without judgment, and (as Nina Hartley once said) to "help each other out." This is part of another credo, to be good, giving, and game.

Only by opening up to your partner will you learn if he shares your fantasies and interests and whether he'd be excited (as opposed to merely "willing") to explore them with you if he doesn't (yet). How you choose to open up can be as varied as your imagination desires: a brave discussion on the couch between sips of wine, a gasped request whispered into his ear between thrusts, a slow submitting slink across his lap as you give him upturned doe-eyes and a bite on the lower lip. Rent The Secretary and watch it together. Visit your local sex shop during a date. Leave a copy of The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty at the bedside table (or better still, read it to one another). Network in your area for munches or other social events where you can meet your local kinksters, and hopefully make new friends. If and when you do attend a playparty, consider attending to strictly observe and digest the vibe for your first visit or two before committing to play yourselves (and be sure to tell the organizers that you're new). Talk, share, nurture the interest in exploring fantasies together.

You can also listen and observe him, his habits, daily things he does that (if you tweak your imagination just right) make you hot and find a way to sensualize and sexualize them so that he can see it. Does the way he handle a circular saw make you think of rugged Top guys until you're panting and wet? Tell him, and reinforce the signal with a blowjob while he's still in his boots and jeans. Let him know that it makes you hot when he does "toppish", dominant things. You like watching him shave? Stand right next to him, strip, and jill yourself while he does so. Or, if you ever wanted to explore dominance, deliberately select his clothes before you go out together and remain firmly instructive throughout the night. Make it a game. He needs (and, ideally, wants) to know what you like, and if he's an attentive and unselfish lover, he'll run with that as far as his own boundaries let him.

One thing I like to do, and especially with a new partner or with one who is new to this kind of play, is to have clear and physical symbols. A large candle or a certain bracelet, when I light it/place it upon her wrist, marks the beginning and the end (when I snuff it/remove it) of play. These sort of symbols help define the mental boundaries and provide a sense of time-on and time-out before things 'go back to normal,' and that can be vitally important for someone new and being introduced by a partner.

"Honey, let's play a game. You'll like it, trust me. You see this candle? When I light it after dinner, I want you to treat me like I'm yours. Like, your property, like some errant servant or a gift from your buddies or a prize slave you got at auction. You don't have to be mean to me, but make me obey you, because I'll want to obey you, do anything you desire. We'll play the game for an hour, or until one of us blows the candle out. It'll be fun."

No, it doesn't always work. A past lover of mine sought over-the-knee spankings through online sites because her husband couldn't, or wouldn't, "help her out." She eventually left him. Whether or not your current relationship can endure if (and when) you find certain sexual disconnects between the two of you is a matter for you to decide when you've weighed the compromises, options, and importance of it all to you. But it does mean that if you want to see a certain result, the onus to introducing it most likely will lie with you, regardless of whether your interest is submissive or dominant.

But sometimes it does work really well. Before being involved with me, Kara had never been to a fetish playparty, or even actively spanked, and she assures me that she's having a wonderful adventure so far.

How do you keep from "exceedingly disconcerting" him? By feeling him out, observing his body language, truly listening to his response. By remaining open-minded to the possibility that, yeah, some fantasies might make him hard as a post and, yeah, some may squick him. Consider your options for whatever response he gives you, but remember to respect his choices too. (The same can be said to men trying to introduce other ideas that might be new in a relationship, such as swinging or other fantasies, with their partners.)

You might consider introducing what you'd feel are your 'tamer' fantasies first, and seeing where and how you can introduce further ideas from there. But, and this is important, also prepare yourself ahead of time for how you might become exceedingly disconcerted if his response is noncommittal (or worse, negative) to what may be even be the most tame of hotter desires. This sort of risk to emotional vulnerability is especially tender for someone like yourself, who is relatively new to your own sexuality in general.

But the important thing is to communicate, to remain honest with yourself, and to decide beforehand what you're ultimately willing to compromise on before something does or does not become a dealbreaker. Only you can gauge that, because ultimately only you are the steward of your own happiness. It's all about choices and accepting the consequences of those choices, one way or the other.

And never forget that a partner who does not respect you, listen to you, and help you achieve what you wish for in your life (even if its a spank-to-tears session of sexplay) does not deserve you.

Love is a verb. It's success depends upon what both of you do.

Oh, those wacky airports.

Ever in the pursuit of the divine right to deflower seventy-two virgins in the afterlife, radical fundamentalist Muslims in some parts of the world remain determined to slip bottles of explosives into their Hanes whiteytighties and board commercial airliners. At the rate some of these fellows are sacrificing themselves in the name of jihad, you'd think that Allah had hymens on backorder.

Now, remember when you were a kid (oh, I'm talking to the boys here, although I'm certain plenty of youse grrls would agree too) and you had fantasies of being able to see through your classmates' clothes? Any of you remember those ads in the back of the comic books for X-Ray Specs? Sure you do.

Now, whatdya get when you mate these two ideas? You get the ProVision Active Millimeter Wave Advanced Imaging Technology (AIT) System, baby. Developed by Massachusetts-based L3 Security And Detections Systems, these devices will soon appear in airports throughout Canada and elsewhere as a new and improved means to make certain that no one has C4 where you can't see it, PLX where their penises should be, or astrolite packed with their Astroglide.

The so-called "naked scanners" produce an electronic, three-dimensional, seminude image within two seconds. Opponents such as Privacy International and the Canadian Civil Liberties Association are condemning the devices as an invasion of privacy, and seek assurances concerning both its effectiveness and discretionable use. Nevermind that these devices have already been in use at border crossings, prisons, courthouses and elsewhere in the world for some time. Some bemoan that faces and genitals aren't systematically blurred during the scanning process. Some even argue that children should not be scanned because to do so would constitute the making of child pornography.

Because, you know, a radical extremist and violent zealot would never consider using someone under the age of consent to, you know, hurt anybody or anything. I mean, that'd be no fairzees.

Perhaps not surprisingly, the American Association for Nude Recreation thinks the devices are a splendid idea. In a recent press release, the AANR counsels folks to "put it in perspective... (that safety) is more important than parochial concerns over a scanned image of the human body."

"(We) think it's going to change how (people) think about things," said AANR publicist Carolyn Hawkins in a recent Toronto Star report. "We think it's a great idea, and not just because we're nudists."

Me, I'm still waiting for my X-Ray Specs. Maybe they're on backorder too.

Oh snap.

It's 6am, and I'm at work. I know Kara is awake, and decide to send her a naughty little note to help her wake up.

Me: *pinch*

Kara: Oooh! :o Bet you were a pincher in grade school too! ;)


Me: Nope! A BRA STRAP snapper!!

Kara: Oh God! You WERE evil ... :p

Me: I only did it to friends. ;)

Kara: Sheesh! Lucky (?) friends!

Me: C'mere. So's I can shnap your strap. Wench.

Kara: Now that's more like it! ;)

Me: You just want me to have at your tits. ;)

Kara: Yep! My tits like you! They think very fondly of you! ;)

Me: *caress*stroke*cup*squeez*kiss*lik*palm*tease*nibl*bite*

Kara: Yes! My tits are very happy right now ...

Sunday comics.

Fireworks, cont'd.

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Fireworks.

She was already on the bed when I walked through the door, a Laurell K. Hamilton novel in her lap as she relaxed. She was wearing those camo pants that make her ass look so deliciously spankable. Between the pants and the black tanktop, Kara had a potent soft butch look that never fails to make me catch my breath. She smiled when she saw me, setting the book aside as I started to remove my shirt.

Kara has keys to my pad, and when she has a full weekend free, she's begun to enjoy using my place as her personal oasisn when I'm at work. When I come home, sometimes she greets me, half-naked, at the door with a dirty martini. Sometimes I find her engrossed in my DVD collection, or in the shower, or quietly sleeping on my deeply cushioned futon bed after she's been using her little purple vibrator and exploring my library of erotica.

Our New Year's Eve plans required some last-minite adjustment. The tickets for the Skin Tight Outta Sight rebel burlesque show were tragically sold out, but we more than adapted to the situation.

She met my kisses warmly, expectantly, muffling soft moans into my mouth as I slid my way up the bed and held her tight. A hand at the back of her head and she was turning her jaw up to me as she arched her back, her mouth open and hungry as she feasted on my kiss and slowly writhed under my body. She hooked her ankles around mine. She reached around my broad back to caress me. She ground her pelvis into my package. She began to pant quietly.

We kept making out under the glow of the faux Tiffany lamp while my hand slowly reached under that tight tanktop to press against her taut tummy, her ribs, and up to cup one of those small, pert, faerie breasts in my palm. Her nipple was already awake and eager, an erasertip that proudly proclaimed how much fun my little tart was having. I squeezed her little tit gently, enjoying the way her flesh rose between my fingers while I grasped her. She bit my lower lip with a sigh.

Our plan was to shower and dress for the night once I had come home, but once I was holding her close and feeling her warmth and sinewy gyrations underneath me, I decided that the evening could wait. Who knew... we might even stay in: bringing in the new year during a long, sensual fuck didn't seem like a terrible idea at all.

I removed her tanktop slowly, teasing myself as her delicious teacups came into view. Her mouth was just slightly parted now, her short raven-dark dair getting tussled by the pillow under her head, her eyes beginning to glaze over. She licked her lips as I brought a hard, proud nipple to my mouth, my hand continuing to hld and squeeze and tease her other, untasted breast. She gently raked her nails down my back and across my shoulders. I rained kisses down her chest, tickled her ribs with the tip of my tongue, and resettled myself on the bed until her adorable wee navel was just under my face.

I have a thing for tummies. I think there's something unique about pressing my face close to my lover's stomach and breathing in her scent, feeling the warmth of her skin. It's totally nonsexual, not exactly a fetish, but it arouses my appreciation for the sensual... and it feels like an important first step toward sucking pussy. Once my face is there, kissing and relaxed, and my hands are beginning to caress those thighs and grasp at the waistband with playful tugs and pulls, it's just a matter of time before I want, need, crave warm and joyfully wet cunt in my mouth.

And sucking Kara's pussy is awesome fun. Her mound is gloriously pronounced, a pair of pulsating, vertical pillows that open and spread like a wild orchid to reveal a tight curleque of glistening, taut skin and an eager nubbin under the slightest of coral folds. If Kara herself tends to be a somewhat introverted person, her clitoris is clearly her incarnate alter-ego, because when she's in heat, her pearl yearns and pleads hungrily and demandingly for attention.

I opened the button to her pants and smiled as started to wiggle herself free from them as I tugged them down her legs. She raised her ankles into the air with a big smile, knowing full well what she was in for, and I laughed as I pulled the camos up her strong legs and over her wiggly, sock-covered feet. Now she lay on her back below me, wearing nothing but those socks, tight white panties, and a naughty look in her eye.

She parted her legs for me as I tasted the skin just above the waistband of her underwear. I could easily see how her pulsing mound strained against the cotton, and so I filled my lungs with a deep breath, brought my opened mouth to the seam between her covered thighs, and slowly exhaled against her crotch to roast her with hot breath. Sucking air in through my nose, I did this several more times, slowly exhaling and heating her core as my mouth pressed firmly against her, until I allowed my tongue to begin darting against the cotton and her tight folds underneath. Kara wiggled under me.

Tugging the panties aside, I brought her dark and trimmed mound of fur to my face. Tilting my head, I nuzzled a cheekbone against her short, black pubes while sensing her arousal. Kara's feral scent is gentle, subtle, and reminds me of roasted nuts with butter. By the time I was swabbing her labia with gentle, slow, upward swaths of my tongue, I wanted a cup of hot, spiced rum beside me to 'go with it.' This made me smile to myself as I feasted on Kara's glowing and reddening centre.

My hands began a massaging dance on her belly, her thighs, her hips as I moved my tongue and mouth within and throughout her. The tip teased her seam with butterfly kisses and, interspersed with being curled and flicked just above her hood, I held her thighs firmly with both hands. Tilting my head to one side, I slowly sucked her grrlshaft between my wet lips, pumping it in and out between them and sliding my wet tongue across it when it was inside my mouth on the instroke. Kara adores this, and I've learned that it's the fastest way to make her cum.

We did still need to get dressed if we were going to have dinner and go out for New Year's, so I decided to give in to her craving for her. The night was just beginning, and I suspected that we'd have much more to do once we got to our venue for the evening.

Not that she would have complained. Kara was panting under me by the time my tongue was aggressively and rapidly flicking her pebble, sucking it into my wet mouth and giving it a bath with my hot saliva. I pumped it between my lips, feeling her labia pull under her clit like a curtain, and relished in the contrast between the softness of it and the hardness of her little bead. One palm was at her tummy now, fingers gently clawing into her abdomen while the other hand had reached under her and cupped her left asscheek in the fullness of my hand. Once I had done this, Kara's breath quicked even more: she loves having her ass held, and she arched her back again as she quivered and humped her pelvis against my face. She rode me. She drenched me. She did everything she could to get her pussy to my mouth and tongue harder, firmer, wetter, unti, she finally began to cry out and shake. I withdrew her clit from my mouth and started flicking my tongue again, and this sent her over her crest as she both pressed harder and tried to push me away as she furiously came.

I squeezed her ass with both hands now, holding her up with hips tilted, as she rested her weight on her upper back and shoulders on the pillow. She held my head, controlling my movements, forcing me back when the sensations overwhelmed her. Cruelly, I darted the tip of my tongue against her clit once or twice more, sending shocks throughout her body and leaving her in a shaken, writhing mess.

I caressed her as she drifted into a blissful zone. Later, I got up, strolled naked into the kitchen, and selected a bottle of wine.