“What’s shibari?” my dear housemate asked, the one I like to touch. We were in the kitchen, where so many important questions are asked. A riparian housemate washed his dishes, while we others waited. “It’s tying people up,” my knot-loving housemate answered simply. The knot lover had offered shibari as an after-dinner game, better than
I was thinking about a friend I had long ago for a short time who wanted me to hold a key to his chastity belt. He was into these devices–the kind he had was plastic–that encase a dick, and are locked with a key. Why have I never talked about this chastity belt here on
Oh hey. I have a bit of a hand fetish. Did I already tell you about it? There was a post about worship of the hands. And I think I’ve mentioned hands making me horny. But now I would like to go into a little detail. breast pic This pic I took of my breasts–I
I don’t think of myself as a food fetish kind of person. Sure, garlic makes me horny. But that’s normal. Garlic makes everyone horny! Then I told my spouse I was craving lasagna really bad. But I can’t eat it. Well, I could try it with a white sauce instead of red. Veg instead of
I was in a bathroom, going pee, looking down at my underwear. They are probably my favorite–purple–and they have some holes. I suddenly realized: wow, these things are beat. Very used purple underwear. They’re faded in the part where a little pee gets on them, pee-bleached. I’m guessing it’s been ten years, I’ve been wearing
I used to feel very private about my feet. I didn’t want them messed with. They seemed lowly, making contact with the ground. Calloused, never super clean, vulnerable to a shard of glass or stubbed toe. Sore, a lot of the time. They seemed off limits. An ex had sex with my feet, one time.