So here I am–back, and not knowing where to start. I should probably start with the reason that I’m back, which is–I feel like I would like to implode my entire life. What does that mean? What am I saying?

Just that I am sick of being who I am–or pretending to be who people believe me to be–and I want out. Permanently. I want to take out a billboard and tell the world everything about me, and ex-communicate anyone who doesn’t like it.

Ex-communication–such a harsh act. Yet for some reason it’s what I crave. Last year Tyler Glenn came out with an Album called Ex-Communication, themed around his act of coming out of the closet and leaving the Mormon church. It’s not exactly my preferred style of music, but certain songs of his, I love. Not just because of clever lines like “I found myself when I lost my faith,” but because he was brave enough to write and record them. He gave no shits. HE ex-communitated no one–yet made it clear that anyone who didn’t support him could fuck right off. He was done hiding.

I can’t explain what hiding has done to me. The fact that I feel like I am always looking over my shoulder, afraid of what others might see, the questions they might raise, the conclusions they might draw.

Am I a cheating whore? My husband a poor, blind schmuck? My children, doomed to be scarred? Am I a pervert, who has no preference for whether she fucks men or women, as long as she is fucking? A sex-addict who will go there with whomever? A heartless bitch who must not love anyone at all, if she is unwilling to remain faithful? It’s all open to speculation. The world stands in judgement. And who am I? Just a woman who is tired of hiding, tired of shame, tired of pain. A woman who has been through a fucking lot in the last few years, and just wants to take a deep breath and be herself. A woman who, by many standards, is selfish, yet still feels like she is sacrificing herself in order to not hurt others.

Who am I? I have no fucking idea.

More to come.

Ah-mazing Sex



Papa Bear and I have been having amazing sex. It has been off the charts. Every time is different and sexy and hot.

A few weeks ago we finally engaged in consensual non-consent (rape play). It is something I have been wanting forever, but it takes a lot of trust and a deep understanding of the other person in order for it to feel and be safe for both parties. We have talked about it enough that finally, one night, we just did it.

I started by teasing him. Doing a little strip tease, then dropping my dress back into place over my legs and pushing my thighs together.

I’d open my legs and play with myself a bit, then close them and wink. He’d kiss me and grope me and I’d reciprocate for a minute or two…and then scamper off.

Eventually, knowing exactly what I was up to and what I wanted, he pushed my legs open and used his mouth on me. I was clearly enjoying it, but I struggled, because that made it hotter.

He grabbed my wrist and pushed me towards the bedroom and threw me on the bed. I went back and forth between fighting him off and coming so hard I could barely stand it.

He choked me and spanked me and held my wrists against the bed, and I loved every second.

It was beyond hot, but of course, TOTALLY consensual. After two years of talking about it, we were comfortable and intimate enough to go there.

That is the difference between rape, and rape play. Rape play is fun for both of you.

That Kind of Party


A couple weeks back, Papa Bear and I went on a double date with another poly couple. We had been meaning to get together with them for months and months, but with life being crazy, this was the first time we actually had a chance to hang out since meeting them at a poly event last November. We met for all-you-can-eat sushi, and sat and talked and got to know each other. It was a nice night, and Papa Bear and I were excited at the prospect of having some new poly friends.

After dinner we went and sat on the patio of a cafe and had coffee. When it got too cold to be outside anymore, we walked to our cars, exchanged hugs all around, ad said we’d have to get together again soon.

I asked Papa Bear if he liked the girlfriend (who we’ll call Nerd Girl). He said he thought she was cute and liked how nerdy she was, but he knew she wouldn’t be interested in him and he was cool with that. I didn’t disagree with him. She is 24 (a full 21 years younger than Papa Bear) and made a point of telling us that she is basically a lesbian and the only man she is into is her boyfriend.

He asked me if I’d like to fuck her.

“Possibly,” I said. “We’ll see.”

“Would you want to fuck him?” he asked.

“Maybe, but I think he might be a little young for me.” The boyfriend, who we’ll call The Sheriff, is 27 to my 31–and I usually go for older men.

I continued to chat with The Sheriff on Facebook messenger, as we had been doing semi-regularly since we first met. The conversation turned kind of sexy, and then I got drunk one night, causing the conversation to turn very sexy.

During that talk, he told me that Nerd Girl has a major crush on Papa Bear. I immediately texted him and told him, and we were both excited about the possibility of this leading to fun, sexy times.

The next weekend (just a week after Papa Bear moved into his own place), they invited us to a barbecue. We went in with no expectations, but hoping we might end up making out a little at the end of the night or something.

We all started drinking immediately, and there was a decent crowd. It wasn’t a ton of people, maybe 10-12. We spent most of the daylight hours getting to know Nerd Girl and The Sheriff and their friends, and it was fun. Then, after a few more drinks than was probably advisable, Nerd Girl asked me to go upstairs with her and help her change into a shorter dress.

I suddenly got the impression that it was going to turn into That Kind of Party. The dress was short–it was pretty much showing her ass cheeks! When I tried to help her figure out the strings on it, neither of us could get it, and we started giggling.

When we came back downstairs The Sheriff told us that he figured based on our giggles, that we were probably fucking. I assured him that no fucking had taken place!  We moved the furniture around so that the kitchen table was in front of the sectional, and we could all comfortably sit and play  Cards Against Humanity.

I ended up setting between The Sheriff and Papa Bear, and Nerd Girl ended up on Papa Bear’s other side. We hadn’t even made it through a full round of the game, before Nerd Girl took her dress off, got out a flogger, and started taking volunteers for who wanted to beat her.

Some of the guys happily obliged, and took turns leaving welts on her ass. I watched, until The Sheriff started kissing my ear. “You smell amazing,” he said, and when I turned to respond, our lips met. Within less than a minute his hand was up my dress, and he was massaging me through my panties, which were immediately soaked. We continued kissing and he rubbed me off until I came, and then he got up to go do something.

Papa Bear was still sitting beside me, and he took advantage of my flipped up dress, and stuck his face between my legs. It had been a long-standing fantasy of ours, for him to eat me out in a room full of people, so he definitely wasted no time and spared no effort. He made me come again, and then Nerd Girl came and sat beside me and we started making out. Papa Bear pushed his fingers into me, hitting my g-spot, and then started to lick her cooch. We both moaned loudly and continued making out. I found her nipple and pinched it between my fingers. She said I should do it harder, and I did, but I still don’t think it was hard enough for her. She is a self-confessed pain-slut. Papa Bear alternated between the two of us, always with his hand inside one and his tongue inside the other.

Eventually I excused myself to get another drink, and then I padded down to the basement to use the bathroom. While I was down there I ran into The Sheriff, who grabbed me and kissed me and pushed me into the den. When Nerd Girl (his kinda-submissive) came down to ask his permission to fuck Papa Bear, my legs were wrapped around his head, so he just gave the go-ahead with a hand signal.

He fucked me hard. He pinned me to the couch. He choked me when my screams got too loud, which made me come harder. He fucked my face with his thick cock, until my make-up ran and my body shook and whimpers rose from my throat. He pulled my hair and I dug my nails into any part of him I could find.

When we went back upstairs and I tried to talk, I realized I’d lost my voice. Yes, I am a screamer. I went to the bedroom and watched Papa Bear flog Nerd Girl for awhile, and then, satisfied that they were having a good time, but feeling like a third wheel, I got up to head downstairs.

“Why are you leaving?” asked Papa Bear, with a big smile on his face. “Come over to the bed”

“I have to pee,” I said, which was true, but I didn’t go back. Instead I returned to the party.

Everyone except Papa Bear and Nerd Girl decided to go for a walk, so we stumbled, in various states of drunkenness, through the neighbourhood. The Sheriff held my hand and we chatted about movies and music, and then we all stopped for a drink, then returned to the house.

Nerd Girl and Papa Bear were still upstairs, but when they heard us they came down and joined us. I was just thinking it had been a really fun night, when Nerd Girl, who was sitting beside Papa Bear and kissing him over and over, started talking to him.

“I’m so glad you live so close to my work, because now I can come spend the night whenever I’m too tired to go home!”

“Yeah, we were fooling around and the next thing I knew we were fucking bareback!” she told her boyfriend with a giggle.

“Are you okay with going down the Dom road with me? Because I really don’t think I can be anything other than a submissive,” she asked Papa Bear.

“I’m going to have to figure out what to call you…” she said to him, gazing starry-eyed at his bewildered face.

“Now we can swap books!”

Then she called her boss to ask for her schedule, and squealed about the fact that she had the next Friday off. “I’m so glad I have this Friday off so we can spend the night together. Are you free Friday?”

And I watched her, like I was watching some kind of exotic creature I’d never before seen, either up close, or depicted on television. And I tried to keep the blood from rushing to my head as he told her he really had no idea what his schedule would be like but that he’s pretty busy.

And I hugged her good bye when they walked us to the car, and gave The Sheriff a good night kiss, and waited until the door closed and we were driving away, before I had a full-blown panic attack.

What Woke the Beast


Saturday night I had a foursome with Gentleman Friend, the Wifey, and her Dom. We started in the kitchen, sharing drinks and dirty stories, then moved to the living room with its enormous leather sectional and wood-burning fireplace. We sat in front of the fire, surrounded by furry blankets, and then the touching started. I wanted to see the wifey’s undergarments, so I pulled her dress right up and admired their sheer, lacy pinkness. I ran my hand up the seam in her stockings, and before I knew it my dress was in a pile on the floor and I was left in my thigh highs and red bra.

Gentleman Friend fingered me and made me come, and the Dom put his cock in my mouth, calling me “good girl.” We all went upstairs.

His bedroom. My god. It was a circle and reminded me of a turret. The bathroom is separated from the main room by a glass half-wall and has a soaker tub with jets, and the bedroom itself is heated by yet another wood-burning fireplace. A leather couch faces the fireplace, and there is a giant bed in the middle of the room.

But its most impressive feature is the spiral staircase that leads to a look-out –a circular catwalk with 360 degree windows, a telescope, and railings all around–perfect for tying someone up. Which we did.

The Wifey has been needing a beating, so I helped the Dom tie her up, and he handed me different implements to torture her with. Yummy.

After we untied her, we crawled onto the bed, and they pulled out an 18 inch double sided dildo. I lubed it up, and slid it inside the Wifey’s pussy. She gasped as she took it, and then I slid my end inside me. It was very thick, and I had to take more and more of it gradually. But we were both moaning, panting and gushing. Fucking each other.

“Lady!!!,” she screamed on the edge of an orgasm. “You are better than Sugar Daddy!!!” [random editorial aside: she is not seeing him anymore either. same reasons.]

I laughed. “Thanks, I’ll tell him you said so.”

We screwed, and the men watched until they decided they wanted a piece of that action. Then I got on my back, and Gentleman Friend fucked me, while the Dom fucked wifey, who was straddling my face. I alternated between licking her pussy and fingering her, though it was a little hard to concentrate while getting the hell fucked out of me!

I gushed. I gushed so hard that Gentleman Friend cupped it in his hands and spilled it down The Wifey’s back. No idea how he managed that, but she was absolutely dripping. I screamed, gripping the sheets and writhing.

The Wifey needed a break so Gentleman Friend cuddled with her, while I fucked the Dom. He put his hands around my throat and Gentleman Friend told him I like being choked hard, so he tightened his grip. Perfect. 

I came again, and then we all went and sat by the fireplace. I noticed that there were big windows looking out into the street and went and stood in one, naked. They teased me for being such an exhibitionist, then The Dom started to finger me and I came again. I almost slid down against his cock, which was hard again, until he said “Are you okay without protection?”

Shit. “No, no I am not. Nor am I sober,” I laughed.

Gentleman Friend went and grabbed us a condom cause he’s helpful like that, and I tried to get him in me again but no cigar. “I think I’m swollen shut,” I apologized.

“We’ll see about that,” he replied, taking me over to the bed. And he fucked me. He fucked me hard until I was a screaming, sobbing mess.

“How is she not dead?,” asked Wifey from across the room. I guess this was the first time that either of them had seen how long and hard I can go.

“You’re gonna sit on my face,” said the Dom. “And I’m gonna make you squirt.”

He ate me out and fingered me, and ordered the Wifey to come over and take care of his cock while I rode his face. I knew he wanted me to squirt but was honestly pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to again. . .and then he hit my g-spot, and I drowned him, just like he wanted.

Then I took a cold beer bottle and held it against my pussy, because I was so thoroughly fucked I couldn’t take anymore.

I made too much noise and I caused too many tremors. I woke the beast, and I can’t get it to go back to sleep.




I’m in a crisis. It could turn out to be a crisis of epic proportions, it could be a catalyst for greater things, or it could just be a hiccup. Time will tell, but as we all know, I hate waiting. I was devastated and in a total panic a couple of days ago, and Gentleman Friend left work early to come sit on the couch with hubby and I and talk it through. He took a family emergency day. He is amazing.

Things have been downright domestic lately. Backyard fires, relaxing in bed watching movies (well, porn, haha), me playing paintball with him and his friends. We’ve been hanging out in the living room with his wife and her boyfriend, antique shopping in the afternoon, going to work events with his family (me as “the friend”). I love what we have and I love what we do, but this crisis has triggered something that has been itching below the surface.

I have dreamt of a poly family since I started this. It was this article, about a polyfidelitous triad, that made me realize that this was something I wanted. I had just given up on the dream, thinking I would never have that, when in strolls the Gentleman Friend with his daughter and his wife and his cat, and takes me as his. They welcomed me in.

But (and of course there is a “but”), as much as I am a baby girl who needs security and to be protected and nurtured, I am also a wild child who needs to let loose. I am feeling this urge particularly strongly right now, in the face what happened a few days ago.

I miss the kink scene. I haven’t been a part of it since I moved, and I miss it. I miss dirty, sexy, wild parties with everyone spanking and fucking and walking around naked. I miss dressing outrageously and dirty dancing in a club on fetish night. I miss the total abandon, the absolute shamelessness, the complete and utter distraction.

I know I want to run, and I know I want to hide. I know that’s part of what this is. But even before things got scary for me a couple days ago, I had been missing it.

I’m not seeing Sugar Daddy anymore. He invited me to a Halloween hotel party hosted by a sex club, and then sprung Jailbait on me after the tickets had been purchased. I was not amused. Up until the night before, he tried and tried to get me to go with both of them, but I wasn’t having it. There was just no way. So they went without me.

It was rough. I went out with Gentleman Friend that night, but I really really miss just letting my deviant out. I haven’t found a safe person to attend these kinds of events with so I am abstaining, but it sucks. Gentleman Friend has mentioned hitting a sex club, but it hasn’t happened yet. I am going to talk to him about it, but as much as I care for and enjoy him, I’m not sure its his scene. Not everyone is an exhibitionist.

I wonder if I should start looking again. He says I have his blessing. He was thinking I need an NSA fuck-machine to replace Sugar Daddy, but what I’d love is someone to go to kinky events with once a month or so. The thought of putting myself out there again scares me, but its something I want to do. I think I should wait until the dust settles to see if this desire is in my bones, or just a knee-jerk response to the stress I am under right now.

But damn if I don’t miss my wild side.


Let’s Play


“Wear a dress or a skirt. I want to put my fingers inside you in the car.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.”

This is the first such exchange between us. We are dating. Getting to know each other. Feeling our way.

But he has been watching me. He sees how I respond when he takes control–not just in the bedroom, but anywhere. He occasionally calls me “little one.”

“Little goddess.”

But I have avoided titles. “Daddy” means “I love you.”

It is more than whatever I happen to feel. It means I am giving you my heart, with all its chips and cracks, and trusting you not to add any new ones.

It has yet to be seen whether or not I have a new Daddy. . .whether or not I ever will.

For now, I am going to go put on a skirt or a dress (with knee socks). Someone wants to finger me in the car.

I don’t know (Part II)

(I don’t Know Part I)

Jailbait came over on Friday. Daddy gave her a crash course in D/S, while I was at work. He sent me photos of her tied up, of her with her ass covered in welts, of him with his dick inside her. He sent me the text “Just de-virginized her ass.” I turned off my phone.

The next day when I made it over to join them, Daddy said he was surprised I hadn’t asked if I could come over the night before.

I mumbled something and tried to swallow my jealousy, but I was thinking: You didn’t invite me.

Okay, that isn’t exactly true. He DID ask me to spend the whole weekend. For reasons that will be explained in Part III I couldn’t. So I suppose he would have been fine with me coming over that evening and then going home, but it hadn’t occurred to me, and I still felt I hadn’t been asked.

When I arrived at the condo and texted Daddy to let me in, he responded with a picture of her tied up, blind-folded, gagged, and filled with toys. “This is what’s waiting for you.”


When I got inside he told me she was mine for the next half hour. I breathed “hey slut”, into her ear. I stroked her while she lay there with muffled moans coming from her throat. Her blonde hair was a mess and her size H boobs wiggled as she writhed. I licked her pussy and played with the toy that was in her ass. Eventually she wiggled out of the blindfold.

“Did I say you could take that off?” I asked.

“No,” she smiled. “But you are really fucking gorgeous.”

We kissed. I wrapped my tongue around hers. I spanked her and whipped her until she begged to be let out of the restraints.

“Please?” she said. “Let me lick your pussy.”

“Well…since you asked nicely.”


When we were done playing, Daddy said he was going to fuck me. “It’s too long since I’ve been in that pussy,” he said. He fucked me from behind while Jailbait used her dildo on herself, and eventually I took it and used it on her, playing with the settings. When she started to scream, Daddy said “Well, it looks like you found the right one!”

We fucked for a couple hours, taking turns with each other. Me attempting to dominate her, and her being a little smart-mouthed masochist trying to accrue more beatings.

Jailbait likes it rough. When I smacked her pussy she came in ways she never did when I was playing nice.

I was having a good time, even though she was an 18 year old brat who was clearly competing with me.

“I have an extremely tight pussy and ass!” she declared proudly.

I smirked at her as not one, but two condoms broke, one after the other, while Daddy was entering me because I was just that fucking tight.

“I’m wet all the time,” she bragged on the patio.

I opened my legs and Daddy commented that I am a slip and slide. Don’t fuck with me, princess. I will take you down.

Still, she was a young girl. I have shared my doms before and I have shared my boyfriend, and I never felt I was in competition, but she was still lacking the life experience to know that other women are not her enemy.

Daddy went to get us dinner, and Jailbait and I sat on the patio and talked. We traded rape stories like we were trading recipes. My heart went out to her and I just wanted to pat her head and feed her grapes.

When the conversation turned to Daddy, I said. “I love him.”

She talked about how much they’d fucked the previous day, and I resisted the urge to throw in my own stories about him taking me for hours and hours and hours.

She mentioned how much she loved older men, and I agreed.

“You’re adorable,” I said. “But if you call him Daddy, I will cut you.” She needed to know.

“I already did,” she replied flippantly. Now, I should have dragged her inside by her hair and beaten her until she promised never to do it again, but I didn’t. Instead I jokingly mentioned it to Daddy when he got back and said, “She called you Daddy? She’s not calling you that. She can call you Pops,” I smirked.

He looked sheepish. I could tell he knew it wasn’t okay that she’d said that, and that he should have put a stop to it before I had to.

“I guess she ran out of dom names.”

“Then I’ll get her a thesaurus.”


We ate, we talked, we drank, we fucked. Daddy whispered that he was so happy I was finally spending the night, and that he couldn’t wait until we got a chance to have a sleepover, just us. Maybe he meant it, but I felt like he was just trying to placate me.


While we were going at it as a group of three, Daddy’s dick somehow got bent in half. He was in serious pain and wound up curled up on the bed. Jailbait had been told that she was to sleep on the end, I would be in the middle, and Daddy would be beside me. Totally fair, I thought, since she’d got him all to herself the previous night, this was Daddy’s and my first night together, AND I was his baby girl. But Daddy passed out, and Jailbait curled right up beside him. I was on the other side of him, but I was still mighty pissed.

Daddy had promised to spoon and fuck me all night, and to take me out on the patio and fuck me out there, but I guess his sex injury made that impossible. Still, I was extremely upset as I lay there for hours, dripping and burning, with his one arm around me and the other around her.

I couldn’t sleep, so around 4 A.M. I got up and made a drink. As soon as I finished it, the tears started flowing and didn’t stop.

When Daddy finally woke up and realized his arm was around Jailbait and I was curled up on the end of the bed, he moved towards me and wrapped me in his arms.

“Are you crying?” he whispered.

I shook my head no.

“Why?” he asked.

I shook my head again, knowing that if I were to speak, I would begin to sob.

Because you didn’t fuck me all night. Because you dominated her the way you have never dominated me. Because you slept beside her when you said you were mine until morning. Because you let her call you Daddy and that word is mine!

Minutes later we were fucking. Daddy’s alarm clock went off in the middle of it, and when he got up to turn it off, Jailbait woke up. He climbed back into bed and said “Want me to finish you off, honey?”

Jailbait and I both said “Yes,” at the same time.

He turned to her. “We were fucking while you were asleep. I’m going to fuck her, and then you’re next.”

He moved me to the end of the bed and pounded me. I tried not to cry again.

After he’d fucked her, and we had breakfast, he fucked us both again.

While she was in the bathroom I asked if he’d fuck my ass before I had to go, if we had time. He said “I will try. I need to fuck her at least a couple more times since she came all the way from (insert city name here).”

“If you have time,” I said again.

He snuggled me and told me how happy he was to have woken up beside me that morning. “Even if you were upset,” he added.

“I’m fine.”

“I was happy you were there,” he whispered into my ear.

“I was happy too,” I lied.

When Jailbait returned, Daddy said to me “There’s only room in the shower for two, so either you can shower with Jailbait, or I can.”

I resisted the urge to stomp my foot. He’d promised me we’d shower together.

“You can,” I said instead.

“Are you sure? Because I’ve showered with her twice already, I don’t mind hanging out while you two shower. But either way we need to get in the shower soon because I need to take her to the greyhound.”

“I don’t care,” I said, in a tone that conveyed the very opposite.

He sighed and said, “Okay.”


Jailbait snuggled up to me while Daddy was in the other room. I ignored her until she moved away. I just couldn’t.

Daddy fucked my ass before I left, and then hers.

“I have to go,” I said. It was true. I was supposed to have left half an hour before, and he knew that.

“Okay,” he said, with his dick in her ass.

I got dressed slowly, and kissed him softly on the mouth, and then kissed Jailbait with tongue.

“Hey,” said Daddy. “I want a real kiss.”

I kissed him again and tried to mean it.

“I want another one,” he said, his dick still inside her.

I tried again.

Then I said my goodbyes, left the condo, and immediately burst into tears. I cried on the whole bus ride home. I cried in my apartment until my husband sent me to bed because I had cold sweats and was violently shaking. I woke up crying, and cried until my eyes were nearly swollen shut. I cried as my kids ran around the play area of McDonalds, I cried as I returned my Daddy’s text messages, and I cried until my husband had to fuck me just to make it stop.

Then I sent Daddy a photo of us fucking. Because payback’s a bitch.

(Stay tuned for part III)