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In Tatters

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I knelt at His feet in the utter mess I’d made. My struggle to succeed was stark. No one had ever seen me so disheveled…in such embarrassing circumstances. As He cleaned me up for the second time two minutes, I looked up to meet His steady gaze and tried to gauge his reaction. Disgust at another disastrous, completely unimpressive act of service? Frustrated at my inability to get it together? Sadistically amused at another ridiculous unglamorous predicament I’d once again found myself in? I knew he was taking in every fucking minute detail of the wreck before Him and squirreling it away in the vault of His mind, but what did He feel? His stoic expression offered me no hint. Without comment He stood firm in front of me. Fuckin unwavering. He hadn’t walked away. He hadn’t stepped back. I swear He may have even leaned in. As soon as I’d semi-collected myself, I began my third attempt even as I tried in vain to push the remaining proof of my ineptitude out of view, hoping it would simply
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Head-Heart-Soul Shift

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Not in a good headspace. Too much. Too little. The negative has seeped in and is starting to drag me under. No one can shift it but me. Time for some gratitude and change in perspective. I am so very grateful for… My health. My family. My lil leather & kink tribe. My Board of Directors who advise me from their thoughtful outside perspective on all things vanilla and Lifestyle. The opportunities of service I’ve had in the last two years with ONYX Pearls NY-NE and with Leather Solidarity Collective. The vast myriad of discussions I’ve had in my own Lifestyle groups as well as other organizations. The treasure trove of books by Lifestyle Authors with their wealth of knowledge and ideas. The amazing, kind, brilliant people I work with M-F. The profoundly beautiful and life altering experiences I’ve had in meditation the last 8 months. My occasional ability to help those in need. The opportunities I have to share my lil bits of wisdom I sometimes manifest. The phenomenal resilience of N
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System Check After Reboot

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Many of us in NYC are going through some sort of personal pandemic recovery, trying to rebalance, reassess, restart in this new version of normal.  The early days of COVID - when the city that never sleeps crashed into a coma even as endless sirens screamed through the streets - still echo in our heads like a long ago nightmare yet feel like yesterday.  Despite occasional office visits to near empty skyscrapers or surreal dinners with friends amid the landscape of "For Lease" retail space, we haven't quite figured out where the fuck we are now.  There are high-end stores missing, mom and pop shops missing, restaurants missing, delis missing, dive bars missing, diners missing, energy missing, and people.  Fuck.  The people...the tourists, the faces we used see at lunch, our neighbors, our co-workers, our friends and family...who aren't fucking there anymore.  Their faces, voices, and presence are an ache that doesn't fade.  We've gone through a hard reboot afte
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Silver Linings

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Despite my struggles to find my footing in this start of a new normal, I hold tremendous gratitude in my heart and being for the many, many silver linings I found in the Cat 5 Hurricane that was the pandemic. My parents and adult kids have remained safe and long-term healthy to date.   I stayed safe, mostly sane, and relatively healthy aside from a few stress-induced pounds and lack of exercise. Employment...so incredibly grateful that I was immediately able to shift to remote work. Zoom...though like most...I am sick of fuckin zoom! LOL  However, I am eternally grateful for this platform's massive contribution to society during the gravest of times.   Being able to see family and my dearest friends on the regular kept me grounded and productive. My core friendships deepened exponentially.  Without the distraction of long commutes, wait staff and food, a secondary aspect of entertainment whether it was a class, a movie, shopping, an exhibit, a jazz performance...we had time and foc
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A Flat Football & Adrift in a Sea of Bandaids

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After so many of the things, I've spent September settling back in and restarting my world.  Yet as I review various options for Lifestyle classes, events, reconnecting, somehow everything feels bland and uninspiring.  My heart and soul feel utterly disconnected from the Lifestyle.  I am...adrift. I've been blessed in many ways the last nearly two years.  I didn't have it as hard as so many.  I'm not depressed.  I wake up refreshed.  I'm productive.  My emotions are in check.  Minimal anxiety as I've slowly over time re-acclimated to being out in the world with people.  In fact, I can list many personal silver linings that I've found despite this seemingly unending Cat 5 Hurricane of a Pandemic. So I ask myself what the fuck?  One of my biggest passions now feels empty and stale and no longer magical. ~sigh~  To use an analogy...the game ball is flat, so I can barely find the motivation to go to the field to practice or play.  Who wants to toss a football wh
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Sunday Service

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Come to church. Join me in our reverent blessings As your hands skim the curves of my soft heated flesh. Nuzzle your lips against my ripe nipples. And slide your firm fingers between the open gate of my thighs. Feel the serenity that awaits your pulsing hard dick. Our sacred ritual begins. Hands, lips, and tongues dance across wanton skin. A tangled testimony of need and desire. I kneel and lower my body in surrender. Across our plush alter of sheets and bedding. And raise my ass to offer you entrance to paradise. Sink into the warm sanctuary of my wet welcoming cunt. Our salvation nears with each thrust of your bulging head into my tight womb. Slick passage strokes the spiritual fires within us. The power of our passion. Raises us toward the sacred. And together we sing loud our hedonistic hymns.  Of thankful sighs. Rejoicing grunts. And groans of wicked homily. With reverent prayers. We cum together in convulsive bliss. A mutual hot baptism baths our spent bodies. We utter whispered
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A Return from Service

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April brought an overwhelming and instinctual call to service.  Not the romantic kind.  Nor the sexy or kinky kind.  The deep rooted Vanilla Family kind.  With a single phone call, my view of the short term future shifted dramatically.  I did my best to honor significant service commitments (UPRISE!) already in motion and paused everything else, especially those I had been considering.  My horizon line immediately became how best to navigate a family need within the constraints impacting the world at large.  I had to be there.  Everything else was a very distant second. I trust the Universe to guide my path and place me where I am supposed to be.  Even with a myriad of ever moving issues, never before has timing worked out so smoothly or precisely.  Once I gave up the worry and fight to wrestle down the logic of everything, I simply surrendered to the currents at hand, and my path was cleared almost effortlessly to get me where I needed to be when I needed to be there. Despite the seri
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To Write Again...Part of My Evolution.

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It's been a long fucking time since I've written much or written often.  The last year fucked us all up.  My coping tool for it all was to shut down emotions as much as possible and focus on service. Covid in NYC...fuck.  I would have gone mad if I'd let myself dwell in all that fucking turmoil, fear, and pain.  So...service.  Between work and lifestyle efforts I was putting in 12-16 hours a day from March 2020 until about the end of May.  Then I had to let all that angst go. Social Justice...fuck how shocked was I when a good portion of the world finally woke the fuck up at least for a few minutes.  Nope...ya didn't see me post.  Nope...ya didn't see me fight with trolls.  Nope...I didn't sink into my emotions of annoyance, frustration, and pure deep seated anger.  So...service.  For me being an ally is so much more than words, more than useless social media likes/loves, more than a t-shirt slogan or a sign.  It's about fucking WORK.  All in kinda work.  Li
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