In a relationship with no physical contact anymore (through no ones fault, these are the hands we are dealt) horny with a lot of something or other to offload.
But I'm primarily seeking friends initially, for without friendship what truly are we? So I'd appreciate friendly messages starting conversation if you don't mind. Otherwise I shall have to resort to Lego builds. Befriend me, I dare you.
Former occasional boudoir photographer. Which I successfully did with no untoward entanglements. Photography of that sort is clever telling of mistruths, innocence dressed up as filth. Would I do it again? Probably yes if I was asked.
I do have a problem taking much seriously when it doesn't matter. Life is annoying enough, we might as well fill it with laughter.
Too long it has taken to get to who I am. Shamelessly sapiosexual, self proclaimed "Tzaphiliac" ((That's T-rap-eza-philiac) honestly I don't know if I made that up), frequently confused and lover of conversation.
I'm certainly not the person I was when I was discovering things and, obviously, experience has bent me into what I should be. I'm starting to suspect that I'm some sort of pleasure vampire, happy to live off whatever I can do to make you feel good. I'm sure, if invited, I would feast on any willing damsel to satiate.
But what do I want? That's up to you to find out. But if you think you can ignite my mind and inflame me then you are more than welcome to try.
Maybe you can just ask me what "Tzaphiliac" is. Maybe you can just drop me a line about a story I wrote or anything else on my profile. We both might enjoy that.
Do I have limits?
Everyone has limits don't they, but the envelope can be pushed, it seems, with a person who sparks me.
Outdoors? Sure!
Restraints? Okay!
Threesome? I'm going to be non participating aren't I!
Waste products? No thanks.
I only believe in being positive. Disparaging anyone would be outside of my nature, unless I knew them enough for them to have earned a disparagement.
There's no reason to insult strangers and I don't understand a mind that would.
It was the twenty second day already and you felt the weight of the hunt upon you. This may well be clue #22.
The masochists were nestled all tight in their beds;
While visions of manacles danced in their heads;
And mistress in her corset, and I in my chaps,
Had just practiced our swing for loud sounding slaps,
When out from the lounge there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the dungeon to see what was Read more… the matter.
Away to the door I flew like an arrow,
Tore off my hood and tripped over the barrow.
The twenty first day dawn and confirming others affections became a burning need, thus clue #21 was found.
Upon the twentieth day it became necessary to get down on your knees and pay penance. But that was clue #20.
As a former (The opportunity has not come up for a while, although I'm open to return) boudoir photographer I would suggest a very firm base on which to perform. Soft mattresses and so forth allow sinkage which can obscure what you are wishing to present.
But now those thoughts are increasingly present.
It takes just the brief reminder of this thread and there I am pondering clown girls.
In my mind it is important to learn each others preferences and find a comfortable middle ground.
I find that either options are open to misunderstanding, writing less so perhaps, so a combination of both spoken and written is required anyway.
On the nine***th day you sifted for what was latest to be known. Certainly that this was clue #19.
As the eigh***th day came you wondered, in other terms, why. This was obviously clue #18
What options are there really when kink is your reality. Being upfront about your peccadilloes is a more honest approach surely.
The seven***th day came around and, belatedly, you reminded yourself of how you should behave. It was clue #17.
While visions of manacles danced in their heads;
And mistress in her corset, and I in my chaps,
Had just practiced our swing for loud sounding slaps,
When out from the lounge there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the dungeon to see what was the matter.
Away to the door I flew like an arrow,
Tore off my hood and tripped over the barrow. The masochists were nestled all tight in their beds;
While visions of manacles danced in their heads;
And mistress in her corset, and I in my chaps,
Had just practiced our swing for loud sounding slaps,
When out from the lounge there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the dungeon to see what was the matter.
Away to the door I flew like an arrow,
Tore off my hood and tripped over the barrow.