1332 words. I minced up the steep gravel driveway, already regretting the choice of footwear. The heels had seemed a good idea at the time. They complemented my black silk top, black harem pants and […]
Awkwardly, her speech convoluted, she offers him back his agreements to the kink mentoring, the creative partnership, the path of companionship, the promise to not scare her again with being incommunicado while the depression has him on his knees, even their most precious longstanding agreement of hugs and touch.
The man, his music, the dope and the panel van became familiar territory in the succeeding months we spent in each others company. We made no pretence of love, but our non-monogamous relationship was, in the first instance, an anodyne to my sadness and eroded confidence.
Its not erotica, but I believe it is erotic, simply because I think I’ve captured something of the essence of the man (and my joy in being around him). I wanted to share it with you (with, of course, his permission). I haven’t been so inspired to draw in a long time, and although my feelings for him were clearly a catalyst, they have cleared a pathway back to my earlier love of drawing. So expect more, maybe on the blog, maybe on Instagram, Tumblr or Twitter.
In a pre-dawn flashback, Indie recalls the delights of Xmas day and Ryans candy cane. #MasturbationMonday
This untitled poem was written twenty seven years ago (!!!!!) in the spirit of poet e e cummings; as i navigated the intricacies of what was then unrequited love.
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