Some things warm my black heart #SOSS

A few weeks ago some folks put their heads together and came up with a community-building meme called Share Our Shit Saturdays.  It was in response to censorship among the major hosting and social-media platforms against sex- and body-positive images and content.

Patreon kicked out its adult content makers, IG has a long-standing battle against the female form and anything remotely hinting at sexuality, Facebook hates nipples.  Years ago many of us older bloggers jumped the WordPress ship and started self-hosting after some of our friends were wiped out completely with no notice; years’ of work lost in a single algorithmic button-press.

The idea behind #SOSS is that if we all do our part to share what we love then we will circumvent the institutionalized censorship we’re otherwise powerless to prevent.  Admittedly I’m not a huge reader of blogs (I have 5 or 6 that I routinely follow up on), but I promise that when one (or more) really makes me feel something I will share it here, which brings me to Cara.

A seemingly innocuous post about her year in review brought tears to my eyes.  Her [long] list of accomplishments notwithstanding, it was her omission of the love that has entered her life that really moved me and Michael’s loving spotlight on it.  I just love it when Cara writes about herself.

Another post that caught my cold, black heart was Fern’s letter to Sunshine, the man she spent the New Year with.  As I explore my own dominance with a young man I lean on Ferns to be my Fairy Domme-mother and I love the heart and logic which drips from all her words about her experiences.

Love you all.  Enjoy.

 

Little resolutions.

I resolve to fall back into the safe space of Hy.

To reconnect with myself and the world, to pin threads which span the globe with my words and heart.

I resolve to be more open and brave, to allow myself to make decisions rather than respond to someone else’s.

To do the scary things.

I resolve to inhabit this bag of skin and bones with love and light, passion and purpose.

To roll gleefully in the mud of life.

And lastly, I resolve to just be me. Remember her??

Hy all cozy

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

I have a boyfriend.

Kind of.

His name is Faisal.

He’s got four legs and a tail and actually “he” is three.

Three four-legged, furry, needy, loving, demanding, individual, pains in the ass who are always happy to see me. Even the cats.

They cuddle around me on cold nights and stretch long and lean like pelts laid out in the warm summer heat.

They give about as good as they get, which is to say a lot and nothing.

I feed and care for them, provide them with my body on which to lay and adventures for the dog and loving indifference for the cats.  They in turn withhold any longstanding urge to murder me and lick my face off.

I cannot imagine my life without them and their ceaseless demands for care and attention.

Sometimes I think they are the only things on the planet who care where I am and if I am alive because who else is going to feed them?

But more importantly, how else will they center their universe without me as their sun?

Shut up. I know there are a lot more suns than just me, but let me bask in this idea that to them I am integral to their happiness.

If only I knew a Faisal on two legs.

I’m never actually alone.

 

Sinful Sunday

e[lust] 97

Modesty Ablaze Elust 97

Photo courtesy of Modesty Ablaze

Welcome to Elust 97

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #97 Start with the rules, come back September 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

The Confessional

A MISTRESS UNSEEN

Wrapped around his finger

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Counting

The Storyteller’s Conundrum

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Rainy Day Lover

 

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Erotic Fiction

The Sleeping Beauty
Longing
Broken to Be ~ Part 7 – Conclusion
A good man, with a belt

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

The Scene That Almost Never Happened
Sticky fingers

Erotic Non-Fiction

The Art Class Model
Bondage Alfresco Style ~ Collared & tied.
Welcome Home Lazy Vanilla Lovemaking
The Happiest Place On Earth?

Poetry

Burn Together

Writing About Writing

Smut Marathon 2.0

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Sometimes I feel this is all I’m good for

 

 

 

Elust 88

e[lust] 94

Exposing 40 Elust 94
Photo courtesy of Exposing 40

Welcome to Elust 94

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #95 Start with the rules, come back June 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Always Coming Second

Balance

THREESOME – the card game

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

The #500words Project ~ 2

#Pussy Pride

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

No Eligible Posts

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

 

Erotic Fiction

Forgiven
Finally A Prostitute
On Display
World Traveller
Red
Ms. Mona’s Online Dating School for Dudes

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

BDSM is Not My Source for Life.
Pure and Simple
Discussing Consent & Scene Negotiation

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

You can
All for one, or one for all…
He haunts me.

Erotic Non-Fiction

Oh no, I’m not.
the shoot begins
Raylene’s pain does not matter

Poetry

-05.05.17_00:21-
White Tee Shirt

Body Talk and Sexual Health

Orgasm Challenge

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

A Kink Couple Fantasize About the Waitstaff

 

 

Elust 88

Sometimes, we should remain lost.

Lincoln loved me when I was an innocent 18-year-old girl.

His love burned bright and inexorably for months as I struggled with his attentions.  I couldn’t understand why this handsome 19-year-old boy liked anything about me, but he clung tightly.  His letters came regularly, his beautiful cursive unmistakable.  His words inked so tenderly my young heart often broke as I read for I was confused and uncertain about my own.

He had no car, so I would drive to the shipyard where he’d be waiting for me, the giant Navy ship he called home loomed heavily behind him like a sleeping mountain.  He’d pick me up and squeeze me and I’d sigh not with pleasure, but with impatience.  I wished he didn’t like me so much.

Our little misbegotten love affair ended when my little sister caught him reading a letter I had written, but never sent.  A note which captured a vulnerable moment wherein I contemplated loving him.  His earnest search for me in that letter caused me to evict him from my life instantly and without remorse.  I crushed him irrevocably that day.

Years later I hunted for him online.   Little tidbits of information he’d told became the only leads I had.  He was from Texas somewhere, I had his last name, he’d been in the Navy.  I poured over people-finder and high school class websites, but to no avail.  And then Facebook happened and there he fucking was.

I found him married, with many children through different marriages and configurations and discovered that he had lived 60 miles away from me for 5 years until he’d been restationed to somewhere in the south (via the Army this time).

We quickly caught up, but it came to a screeching halt one day when he announced that his wife was uncomfortable with him talking to me.  My husband understood my excitement and had blessed my discovery that Lincoln wasn’t dead.  Apparently, Lincoln’s wife had very different feelings about me.  And so, amid his many apologies, we said goodbye again in 2008.

In 2016 I became curious about him again and re-found him on Facebook.  I was no longer blocked from his account and messaged him, fingers crossed.  He was instantly receptive this time: he and his wife were separated and he was now 80 miles away, not several states.

We texted and talked on the phone round the lock for days, a virtual love-fest of lost innocence and crossed signals.  Our youthful romance figured prominently for him throughout his life and explained his wife’s misgivings of me.  I apologized for being such a broken girl.  He revealed he had been a virgin, too.  Our words were tender touches, two blind people rediscovering their surroundings with gentle explorations, every sense at attention.

Tearfully one night I revealed my double life.  He said he accepted me no matter what and was proud of me.  I shared the blog and Hy and everything I had ever done.  Still, he accepted me.  We set a date to meet.

He was a card-carrying biker now, literally a member of a national biker club with initiation rights and rivalries; the whole nine yards.  Tattooed all over, short, brown beard with a handlebar mustache, a Harley-Davidson hog his only form of transportation.  He looked formidable in my doorway, leather vest covered in biker paraphernalia, but his big bear hug was just the same.  And my immediate response to pull away was the same, too.

We reacquainted ourselves as adults side by side on my couch for the duration of a single drink.  I called a Lyft and we headed out to my favorite bar.  I didn’t want to just sit and drink at my house, the bedroom around the corner.

We laughed and flirted for hours.  The sun set and tears flowed as we finally said the things we’d always yearned to share.  I felt like a star-crossed lover, pulled away from a sweet tenderness I’d never again know.

Back home on my couch, we kissed.  His plump, soft lips were the same, his sounds, too.  I mounted his lap and he suckled my breasts — a move far past the Second Base of our youth — and I rubbed his crotch.  But I couldn’t go further.

I dragged him to bed, pulled the covers over us, and we fell asleep.

In the morning, I awoke to his big arm flung over my waist, his belly smushed warmly against my back.  I felt trapped.

He murmured and wriggled closer to me and I held still, but wanted to run.  His sweetness felt foreign, wrong.  I didn’t deserve it.  We got up and I made us coffee.  He had to head back to the club for a meeting that afternoon.

I was nervously distant and felt as if I could see the pain on his face, but it’s possible I only suspected to see it.  It was me at 18 all over again.  We hugged and kissed goodbye and the last I saw of him was the menacing skull and cross sewn on the back of his leather vest.

Over the next few days he’d call in the mornings to see how I was and we continued to text.  The intensity of our reunion clung to me like old perfume.  How could I fit him into my life?  I ate men for breakfast and Lincoln was no piece of sausage.  But I wouldn’t have to figure anything out.

One day, the texting didn’t happen.  I checked in and his answer was cursory.  Another day passed.  Again, barely a response.  And then he said we needed to talk.

My stomach dropped.  “Only one other man has ever said that to me,” I told him.  “And then that man left me.”

“Things are complicated,” he said.

A day or two went by without any other word and I guessed that he was reconciling with his ex and we could no longer be friends.  “Am I right??”

“Yes you are. Did some soul-searching. I appreciate your friendship but this is the path I choose.”

I burst into tears and tried in vain to get him to reconcile with her and still be friends with me.  He refused.

“I can’t believe this… I mean, of course you have to do what you need to and I support that, but… fuck.  This hurts.  Not gonna lie.”

“I know and I’m sorry. But I have to make her and my son my priority. Not just over you but the club and everything else.”

“I get that, I just don’t know why you can’t do both: be in my life as a friend and make her a priority but, ok… I guess now it’s my turn to have my heart broken, huh?  I wish you the best, Lincoln, and I’ll always be here for you.  I’ve got to go – need to pull myself together before I head into work.”

And his final words to me:

“Take care.”

He unfriended me on Facebook and has remained silent since, just as he said he would.

I doubled over and sobbed.  Lincoln seemed to be my lifeline to so many things.  The innocent girl I was to the wanton woman I am, the past to the future, from Hy to Me.  And he had chosen something else outright over any of it in even the slightest form.

I cried for a few more minutes, took a deep breath, and brushed myself off.  I had lived most of my adult life without him thus far; there was no reason I couldn’t easily go on without him for the rest.  But now the story is sad for far more reasons than youthful misgivings and childish anger.  Now I’m sad because I know I have truly lost him — forever — and I wish I had never found him again.

Soul searching, indeed.

 

 

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Plugging back in.

Something wonderful happened the instant I shut down my dating profiles.  Gone were the twitches to check email.  Gone was the guilt in my delay, my sloppy responses.  And gone was the worry I was missing out.

For years now I have operated under the assumption that if I said Yes to everyone I might be surprised.  Truth was I was mostly disappointed.

I feel lighter, more focused, more energized.  I’m cautiously exploring what it means to let someone get to know me while folding in this life as Hy.  I also feel the extra energy in my mothering and my work.

Peyton’s colors glow brighter somehow; my baby’s voice like bubblegum and sunshine.  I feel more, hear more, am more.

Had I known shutting off that faucet of illicit want and depravity could bring me this level of calm I’d have done it long ago, but perhaps I wasn’t ready.  Perhaps I had to wait for a million other things to line up to feel like pulling the shades on those windows (shutting the doors?).

When I think back over the many years of my life (for there are many) I am reminded of other moments like this where I feel like my life is beautiful.  The first time I ever rode a horse.  The smell, that rich mix of hay, dirt, and live animal; his warmth beneath my hand and between my legs; the muffled sound of hooves on dirt and a breathy whicker.

When I was accepted to a prestigious university 1200 miles from home.  I packed my little car with all my things and struck out on my own and never looked back.  I sorted out the bureaucracy of the school itself and life as a young woman all while taking 12 to 17 hours worth of classes a semester.  I hobbled through the finish line, but I did it.

I remember the first time I ever fell in love.  It was such a revelation; I felt like I suddenly understood all of humanity.  Why wars had been started over a love, why heartbreak could drag a lonely lover down with the fallen.  What a miraculous thing, love.  Does anything in our lifetimes even compare?

Again when I completed my graduate program with a 4.0.  Never before had I been so ravenous with my schoolwork.  The words I consumed melded to my bones; I am them now, they are me.  How lucky am I to be born in a time when a woman is allowed to achieve and grow and become an expert.

I discovered my body and its pleasures at a time when my life was torn apart.  Alone, nearly penniless, and wounded from a lonely marriage I found solace in the space between me and others, a cock the key to my emotional freedom.  I played in the sparkling pools of orgasm and unreality for many months like a toddler and accidentally realized my own power in my life.

My writing and this blog has outshone so many other relationships in my life.  It has survived The Neighbor and even other real life friendships.  It is a constant, wondrous, evolving thing.  I suppose just like its creator.  The friendships I’ve forged I will have till the end of my days, I have no doubt.  Who knew that my creative outlet and need to expose myself could harvest such a boon of love.

But by far the most outstanding memory I have of my life — which is a universe of emotion compared to even the simple joyful moon I am experiencing today — is the day Peyton was born.  The day I pushed a small body out of mine and held that little blinking face to my breast.  The wash of feeling that poured through me a cosmic binding to my helpless babe.

And every day since feeling the bond between us, knowing I am the protector, the mentor, the safe place.  There is no highlight greater in my life than that.

I’m plugging back in, I can feel it.  I want to be back here with you, Internet Boyfriend, and I want to return to me.  Hello.  Can you feel the hug??

 

That breast. My body reminds me of so much love.

 

 

Febraury Photofest

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

e[lust] 90

Photo courtesy of Rebel’s Notes

Welcome to Elust 90

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #91 Start with the rules, come back February 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

Conflicted part 1

Glow

Happy Endings

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Please You to Please Me

How to suck my cock – part 1 (attitude)

 

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Visions of Sugarplums

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

 

Writing About Writing

The Curious Case of Trigger Warnings
Writing About It All

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

PLEASING THE MISTRESS
Reader Q&A: Dominant women struggle, turn-ons
Chastity Questions
Not every hole is a goal

Erotic Non-Fiction

A Picture is Worth…
Morning Stretch
Lovemaking Almost Too Brilliant To Describe
The GP
I Want
Indescribable Pleasure
Humiliating an ex-Nazi: Raylene’s 2nd dozen
Preparation
I love big, fat dicks <– My contribution.

Erotic Fiction

Dude, You’re Wet!
When Love Becomes a Weakness
On a Silver Platter
The Silent Treatment
A Seasonal Affair
Three in a Stall
Schoolgirl Uniform
The New Principal 4: Escape

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

Anal Retentive Or Just OCD?

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

BuzzFeed Femdom

Poetry

-06.01.17_13:22-
Mistletoe: A Lusty Limerick

 

Elust 88

e[lust] 89


Photo courtesy of Sex is My New Hobby

Welcome to Elust 89

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #90 Start with the rules, come back January 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

 

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

When the Tears Finally Came

The pure and simple truth

One Down

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Disabilities & Submission, Part 2: I Say No

UnRepentant Darkness

 

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Hoar Frost…

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

Thoughts & Advice on Kink & Fetish

Hold me down
Keeping me chaste
Say My Name
The Little Things
Struggle…
Learning To Truss
A New Use
My Mania is My Drug
Life as a Laissez-Faire Domme

Erotic Fiction

Watching
Candy, Caned
Jax and Rickie’s First Kiss
New Collar

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

Why You Should Make a Sex Tape
And the winner is…doggy style!
Pleasantville: The Promise of Trump’s America
Bdsm reasons for not hitting children
An Open Letter to MrHankeysToys.com

Erotic Non-Fiction

The Fun Of Being Stripped Of Wet Running Kit!
I want to lick your pussy some more
KIDNAP – a story of fear, pain and sex
Sybian
Well, that’s new…
Objectionable Hair – A Lady’s Taboo

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

UnPartnered
The Cub
I still have hope
A Baker’s Dozen #fucketlist

Poetry

Conditional
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Elust 88

e[lust] #87

understanding-flutterby-header
Photo courtesy of Understanding Flutterby

Welcome to Elust 87

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #88 Start with the rules, come back November 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

An Important Notice

This month our host did a bad thing, they migrated the website to new servers. This isn’t the bad thing, the bad thing is that they moved an outdated version of the site that was prior to this months call for submissions. This meant that some post submissions might have been lost. We republished the call and asked on twitter that people contact us to be sure we had all posts. If your post does not appear here we are terribly sorry and if you contact us through submission@elustsexblogs.com we will add your post to the digest. Thanks for your understanding (this portion of the digest will not appear in the html code).

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

On Secret Identities

Dividing lines…

Ember and Ash

 

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Bdsm: Our pleasures are our obligations

Southpaw

 

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

Change your Cookbook: a monogamuggle’s guide to cookin’ with poly folk

*You really should consider adding your popular posts here too*
All blogs that have a submission in this edition must re-post this digest from tip-to-toe on their blogs within 7 days. Re-posting the photo is optional and the use of the “read more…” tag is allowable after this point. Thank you, and enjoy!

 

Thoughts & Advice on Sex & Relationships

When Love is not enough.
the fantasy and reality of my arrival

Blogging

Shine a Light

Sex News, Opinion, Interviews, Politics & Humor

When You’re Bad
How Women Use Their Sexuality As A Weapon
Dear Fans: Quit Kinkbashing

Erotic Fiction

Big Daddy
(Re)Verse
The Front to Back Challenge
Pretty
GAME OF TWO HALVES – role shift
no. 106

Erotic Non-Fiction

He’s Cumming
Washing up
Chew Toy
So many friends with benefits

Poetry

One Stroke
-25.09.16_12:52-
Early Morning Haikus

 

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