Some Days

Some days, life’s talons dig in,
Ripping and tearing at my flesh,
My fingers clinging, clawing 
At the dirt, as I try to remain

Here, now 

Some days, I need him to
Help me cling and claw,
Allow me to sink into the sharpness,
To meet force with equal force 

Some days, I need the pain,
I need the snug, prickly roughness,
I need to gasp, twist, clench, 
I need the lashes of scorching heat

And the raised welts that remain

I need to hold my breath 
Until my head hurts 
And wonder if the next strike 
Will make me say the word 

I need to hover and flirt 
With the spiny threshold,
And then cross it, not tip-toeing,
But leaping in a silent scream

Some days, the talons’ grip wanes 
As the pain is the pleasure, 
the pleasure is the pain 
is the pleasure
is the pain
is pleasure

And I can see
I can be


Your Wings…

For fifteen years,
You gave your all
Refused to quit,
Refused to fall

You used your voice,
Created opportunity
Helped so many,
And built community

Authentic and honest,
They counted on you
To weather the storms,
To lead them through

Friends were made,
You touched their hearts
Leaving a piece behind,
When you part

Now, into your box,
Go more than things
They are promises you made,
The ideas with wings

That’ll carry you on,
To this new endeavor 
I’ll be the wind beneath them, 
We’ll fly on forever

Today is M’s last day at a place he’s been for 15 years. He’s gonna kick ass at the new one!


your ravenous mouth claimed
what is yours again,
as gasps and moans gave way 
to a breathless grin

goosebumps formed
on the surface of readied skin, 
a foreshadowed rising
of surrender within

and back arching 
with twisted sheets in fists,
the wordless cue 
eruption would begin

tired eyes, achey muscles
and tethered souls 
couldn’t tell where 
time had been

sleep came easily, 
exhaustion kicking in

and now, today has been 
a long day of replaying,
of squeezing thighs, 
flushed cheeks, 
and forgotten tasks –
with you is where 
my mind has been

maybe later,
we can do it all again?

Just Listen

Crisp sheets smooth on clean-shaven skin
Cool breeze blowing in the window
Warm body slides in against hers
Hand begins its travel lower

First, slow circles, leg over his
Two fingers now fast on swollen clit
“Thank you for taking good care, Love,
Always, just the way I like it.”

Strong fingers dipping, massaging
Slowly teasing, then relentless
So close, already, as they wane
Then colide with needy clit to press

Endlessly seeming, his cycles
Circles and massaging, repeat
“No coming, stay quiet, or I’ll stop”
Listening, breath catching, eyes meet

Loving, his encouraging words
But she’s challenged, with no release
“Not yet,” each time she squeeze-clenches
Back arching, her hips beg and plead

Fingers pause, the pair’s heart beats sync
Telling her two rules she must heed
“Stay quiet, Love, and come when told”
“Yes, Sir,” as fists in gray sheets knead

Painfully slow, circles begin
On engorged and desperate flesh
Fingers abruptly slide, enter
His control, her trusting enmesh

Hissing, cool air between her lips
Her essence filled with desire
“Stay quiet and breathe, Love,” he says
Then, “Give it to me,” fuels the fire

Pulsing and contracting muscles
Radiate warmth as wetness pools
A pause, so short, body deceived
Release prolonged, fingers as tools

Beaded foreheads meet, their eyes lock
Open palm strikes delicate skin
Soft rub, hard strike, repeatedly
Her explosion nearing again

“Give me one more,” he growls, this time
Sending shivers down her arced spine
As fingers plunge each opening
Wrecking orgasm, his words in mind

Waves of pleasure, calming breath
In trembles and quakes, she lets go
Souls intertwined with his powerful words
“Just listen,” and her body does follow

*an older poem given a facelift


A few hot-on-my ear naughty whispers
The barely-touched wisping of your whiskers

A head-to-toe, rolling chain reaction
The awe-sum of our lethal attraction

A thrum-nagging just under my ribcage
The breath-catching shudder begging assuage

A please-oh-please pink on my blushing cheeks
The oh-god shiver causing lacey peaks

A twinge-clenching, heat wave radiating
The leg-crossing pulse never abating

A breathy-moan between teeth escaping
The finger-tip-touch leaving mouth gaping

A head-nodding command moves to my knees
My buzz-humming body eager to please

A bubbling-molten pool of fiery need
My aching soul does only-for-you bleed

Take me, I’m your head-thrown back ecstasy
As I call out, ‘Please, Sir’, quite breathlessly

Our two-becomes-one passion colliding
My mind-body-soul-is-yours abiding


Soul is soaring 
Need to please roaring
On knees, pose complying 
Butterflies inside, multiplying
Footsteps nearer, blazes burning

Real Life Kinky in a Nutshell. Or a Vomit Bucket.

Sometimes, a girl has been relentlessly teased all day with sexy, steamy texts, whispered words, ass grabs and whacks, neck kisses, strategically placed bites, hair tugs and pulls, and even hands in her pants when the kids were occupied.

Sometimes, just after her shower, a girl gets instructions to wear her green glass butt plug and come to him on her knees by his chair. 

Sometimes, a girl is told all the naughty, hair-on-the-back-of-her-neck-raising, nipples-getting-hard, need-to-cross-her-legs-to-relieve-some-pressure things he’s going to do to her when he is finished showering. 

Sometimes, just when he’s about to walk up the stairs to shower and she is heading down to make the preparations he’s asked of her, their daughter runs to the bathroom because she’s just vomitted spaghetti all over her bed and floor.

Sometimes, a girl has to clean up piles of vomit, scrub floors, do a couple loads of laundry, bleach the house, and soothe achey bellies wearing a butt plug. And nipple nooses. 

Sometimes, after all of that is taken care of, all the bigger kinky plans just can’t happen because achey bellies might need more soothing (and no matter how hard a girl tries, she just can’t get the sour spaghetti smell out of her nose). 

Sometimes, when they do finally come together, his commanding words, lust-filled eyes, and naughty directions bring them right back to where they were before. 

Sometimes, the promises of trying for those original plans again the next day makes her belly warm and her skin tingle even more the next day. 

Sometimes, in real life, bigger kinky plans get derailed. But, that doesn’t mean the alternate route isn’t just as fun and connecting. Maybe even more so. 


There are times I truly question my submission. I wonder… I actually submissive? Am I really just selfishly trying to have my needs met? In doing so, do I disregard M’s? If my instinct is to think of me first, or how a situation will impact me, what does that mean? If I have such intense feelings sometimes when things don’t go my way, what does that mean? Am I selfish, hiding behind a cloak?

And there are other times I actually begin to question whether I’m getting lost, if that strong, independent woman I’ve counted on all my life is fading away. Lines become blurry, lines which have always been so very solid for me. Areas which used to bring me such strength feel not so strong, distant, and even feel non-existent. My feet feel as if I’m not walking on solid ground, as if what I knew was true, what I’ve counted on for so long is turning to quicksand. I wonder what to trust, in me.

I may not be submissive, I don’t know. I’m pretty sure I don’t care, actually, about the term, at least. Fitting into a mold of what I ‘should’ be or what others see isn’t important to me in the least. How I relate to my husband matters to me. It’s maybe the most important thing in this world to me. I need to honor and respect him, love him with my whole heart, bare my soul, be open and communicative with him. He deserves it. I NEED to surrender to him. That is in my bones, in my soul. He deserves that too. And I need him to need me just as fiercely.

A large part of my surrender has been acknowledging that selfish, self-pitying, bratty, spiteful voice inside me. I’ve had to understand why she exists, why I’ve needed her. I’ve had to see that she has served a purpose. When it has felt like there was no one else in this world who made my needs a priority, she was there. I listen to her. I allow her to feel. I evaluate her motives. And then I choose to act in a way that is best for US. Or I try to, at least. Graceful surrender is what I aspire to, but there will always be a part of me which needs to feel my boundaries, to be reminded they are still there. And yet another part of me which will always need to be heard, valued, and understood. One valued half of a partnership.

Another aspect of my surrender has been acknowledging that M and I have a 22 year history together. We’d developed all sorts of behavioral patterns, some of which, despite our continued efforts, just didn’t work, or perpetuated continued miscommunication. I’ve had to look back on all of that and take responsibility for my choices and actions. I’ve had to make committed efforts at making choices that benefit us and move us in a direction of growth, and do not move us backward into those same patterns. It was a journey I had to take before I ever even spoke to M, in order to get to a place where I could truly begin to offer myself to him, my honest and true self.

This offering of myself to him, allowing him to be the captain of our ship and my giving up the fight for control, has been an exercise in balance for me.

My feelings of surrender run deeper than I ever imagined they would. Balancing that selfish-feeling voice with my need and natural slide into surrendering more of myself has been difficult at times. In times of stress, this becomes more apparent than ever. When we are faced with a big life stressor, or many at once, as we are facing at the moment (M got a new job, was essentially away for 4 days while my daughter broke up with her boyfriend, our getaway has been rescheduled three times, my job is overwhelming), I have an intense emotional response to what feels like the sudden withdrawal of the security of the dynamic. M has been present, but also excited and preoccupied with his job move, and rightly so. I’ve had to spend a lot of time talking with my daughter, and we’ve all spent a lot of family time connecting and using the opportunity to grow together. All positive, right?

Except, instead of focusing on those positive things, instead of focusing on what the logical and reasoning parts of me know to be true – that M and I have built this relationship with mechanisms to grow and evolve with our changes, to continually communicate openly and honestly, and that our intent is clear, that we always have the other’s best interests at heart – I sift though it all to find the potential weaknesses, the possible leak-through patterns of old behaviors that occur in times of stress. The ones that could damage our dynamic. I question my own needs, whether my fears are burdensome, whether the attention I seem to require is unreasonable. I wonder if I am able to be strong for him, as he is for me. I wonder if I’ve become too dependent and not listened to that voice which feels selfish, but may actually be my line of logic and reason, my source of strength which allows me to be the person he can lean on as well. The one we can both count on.

It’s almost like there are dueling halves of me. What I know doesn’t always mesh with how I feel. Am I selfish, pessimistic, distrustful and too dependent, or willingly surrendered and needing him this much is what makes this work?

Here’s the thing – my brain knows there’s a balance that works for us, because we find it, we feel it. It’s rather fluid, within certain parameters, actually. My brain knows what feels right and comfortable and that we can and will talk it through and continually adjust to remain healthy and happy. We’ve built it right in.

The problem arises when I get so far into that headspace, so confused and overwhelmed, that I look to him for all the answers. I look outside of myself, counting on him to fix it. Is that fair? Is that realistic? Can he not feel adrift or need me?? Can we not be unsettled at the same time? Am I not my own source of strength?

I do believe there’s a balance. I know so! We live a constantly evolving one. I do not believe it is his responsibility to make how I feel mesh with what I know to be true. I need to be able to do that, for me and for him. But do I need his support? Do I need his guidance when I’ve begun the slide? Do I need help sometimes seeing that I have the strength to fill the gap? YES!!! I do, so very much.

During these times, I need to feel at ease to readjust with him, with life, with us. Our relationship has proven that we can and do accomplish that.

Balance. It’s probably the most difficult part of my surrender, and I falter and fuck up royally at times, but I have the best support. I have M!! But I also have the strength within me. And I believe that strength is the very best thing I can ever offer to him. I need to remember that.


Denial, delicious agony
Body aching for release
Yet, an eager acquiesce 

Repeated, deliberate tease
The ultimate come hither
Her thorns made to wither 

Played like a hungry zither
Thrummed to the edge, taunting
A foreshadow, a haunting 

Soul-stripping wanting,
Obeying, her only mission
Bared, tunnel vision 

Body responds with precision,
Following every command
Her pleasure in his hands 

Skillfully planned
Her breaking point found
Then expertly unwound 

With his words she’s unbound
A back-arching explosion
Writhing commotion 

Summoned with a singular motion
A journey to a deeper level
In this connection they’ll revel

For You

The ottoman,
Awaiting it’s unintended use,
Same with that stirring paddle, not stirring,
And that length of rope,
For binding me, not things,
Anticipation in the air between us

Nimble, work-caloused fingers, not so soft,
Trace soft lines on my eager skin,
That handmade paddle twitching in your hand,
Oiled and slick like me

Displaced air, cool,
Goosebumps, shiver, 
Contact, THWACK,
Again and again,
A symphony of gasps and cracks,
The only music that calms me

More, please,
Oh, please,
Sir, to me,
M——-on the outside,
My love all the time

Now, I’m peaked,
Responses heightened, 
Vulnerable and exposed,
For only you

Fuck me like you own me,
Because you do,
You do