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Queer

March 3, 2010

You know, I like that word. I mean for many it has negative connotations, but – as a word – I like it. It fits. The cheshire cat might just as well have said “we’re all queer here”. Because – well – we are. In some way or another. But queer – in the sexy way – is brought to mind because I’ve been watching Queer as Folk on Neftlix and YouTube. (Possible spoiler alerts! But I’m only on season 2)

I’d never seen it – or The “L” word – and decided to take advantage and put them in my queue. Thought about Bigger Love too but nixed that one. Did get Dexter though! So far, I really love Queer as Folk. The “L” word, not so much. I do like Shane. I’ve only gone through the first disk of the first season so it might grow on me. But I REALLY like Queer as Folk. It’s FUNNY. And yes, the sex scenes are hot. Did I mention it’s funny??

I’d like to say I’m picking up some great life lessons but not so much. Well there was the one about being true to yourself. Think Melanie and Lyndsey when Lyndsey pretended to be with Brian and they lost the slot in the school anyway. Or when Emmett refused to take the million dollar settlement because it would mean not being true to the memory of George. Or Justin when he went after what he really knew he needed even though he wanted Brian. Still not sure how I feel about that one. Or Brian’s Mom. Unabashedly proudly PFLAG. I’d never even heard of that before.

I must admit I’m totally amazed at the very casual atmosphere of Babylon. I have to ask – is this really what being a gay male is like in a big city? If so, I’m going to become a male, and move to Pittsburgh. I think I’ve been missing something. Even the girls – at the party they threw pre-wedding. Women were dancing around topless and having a great time. I’ve been going to the wrong parties. The thing is (and I’ve found this about YOU my friends too) – it’s okay to be gay – or lesbian – or kinky. That’s part of what makes this show great for me. Whatever floats your boat is okay. I may not get why you like pussy (the boys were making faces) or cock (here the girls made faces) but I still love you. Total, unconditional, acceptance. Even when you piss me off.

Now I did cringe when Lyndsey and Melanie on the spur of the moment invited Leta to share their bed. Did you know it was a bad idea too? Rules up front girls! The whole Michael/Brian Brian/Justin Justin/Violin Player thing is – interesting. Part of me wants to see Michael and Brian together. At least once damnit. Part of me wanted Justin to grab Brian by the hair and say look asshole, you love me, now prove it. But the violin player is cute. And sometimes you have to give yourself permission to let go of something you really want because it’s not giving you what you need.

And funny! I’m beginning to wish for paper handy so I can write down stuff. Quotes have started popping up in my tumblr. And sad! I cried when George went out with a bang. I don’t know if it’s the sex, or the characters, or the energy, but I do love this show. I’m going to be very sad when I get to the end. Nobody tell me how it all ends, I want to be surprised. But if you haven’t seen it, try it. You might find yourself wanting to be part of their world too!

Got Played

March 2, 2010

MFM is a writing project thought up by the lovely Ang of Sweltering Celt. This weeks theme: give and take.

I watched you as you stood at the mirror, sliding the lipstick along the fullness of you lips. Glossy curls brushed against pale shoulders, caressing your full breasts. You looked at me through the mirror, watching me watching you. “Like what you see? Not quite what you’d expected to happen is it.” Your mouth curved in that half grin that had pulled me to you across the bar.

I’d been so smooth, so sure of myself. I’d moved in, ready to seduce. I held your eyes, listened to your words, made sure your glass was full. Light touches to your hand, feeling your softness, letting you feel my strength. When I offered to walk you to your car you seemed grateful. And when I followed you back to your place – to make sure you were safe – I was sure I had you where I wanted you. I never felt the webs you wove.

Now I lay on the bed, stripped of all clothing, of all pretense. My hands and feet were held tightly with leather cuffs; cuffs that were permanently attached to your bed. I’d been played by a master and now I lay vulnerable before you. I was eager to find out where the rest of the evening would lead.

The Stranger

February 25, 2010

I tapped my fingers on the steering wheel, keeping time to the music filling the car. The wipers were moving quickly, trying to stay ahead of the downpour enough to see. It was my own fault, I’d stayed a bit late in town. Now I was trying to make it home in the dark. It was good and bad that I lived so far from town. At least out this far there wouldn’t be any other traffic on the road, but I was also far from anyone else if something happened.

It was sheer luck that let me see you, walking along hunched down in a leather jacket, totally drenched. You were far enough off to the side that you weren’t a hazard but it was almost too far for you to be seen. I heard my father’s voice in my head, “Don’t stop for strangers, you never know who they might be.” But I knew, I couldn’t leave you there. Eventually you’d make it to another town down the road, but you’d have a long wet night of it. I eased off the gas and let the car slow down alongside you. Quickly I rolled down the window and shouted at you, “Get in, it’s too damn wet and cold out. I’ve got a barn on my place, you can spend the night there.”

See dad, I was thinking ahead! I knew the barn would be cold, but not as cold as it was on the side of the road in the rain. At least it was dry. There was even electricity out there and you’d be able to use a heater to get warm. I grabbed an old towel from the back seat as you opened the door and quickly slid inside. “Sorry,” I said. “It’s one I keep in the car for emergencies, but it probably is dusty.” You took it silently, using it to dry they rain from your hair and face, then using it to dry off your jacket.

“Thanks,” you said gruffly.

I tried to get a look at you but without obviously turning on the light, there wasn’t anything on your side of the car but shadows. “How did you get stuck out here in the rain,” I asked as I drove down the road slowly, watching for the mailbox the identified the road to my house.

“Was hitching a ride, got dropped off in town,” you muttered. “On my way to a job in Candera.” You rubbed the towel down along strong thighs encased in jeans, wicking out the moisture all the way down to your boots.

“What kind of job,” I said a little breathlessly. “I know some folks in Candera, but didn’t know there was much call for new hires.”

“Kind of a fix-it man. I can work on cars, build a house, redo wiring, whatever,” you said with a shrug.

You could do everything but talk it seemed. Rather than pester you with more questions I concentrated on the road, soon seeing a reflection ahead. My relief was palpable as I explained “Almost there. That’s my mailbox up ahead.” A minute later the familiar reflecting strips with my address was visible; they seemed to be floating in a see of darkness, but at least now I knew where I was. I quickly turned down the road and put the car in park, preparing to get out and open the gate when you stopped me with a hand on my arm.

“I’ll get it,” you said as you slipped out of the car before I could protest. At least the rain had slowed considerably. As soon as the gate was opened enough I drove through, stopping on the other side to wait for you. As soon as you were, I headed straight down the road for the barn. It was far enough away from the house that I knew I’d be in no danger from you. Besides, I had a sense about you. You wouldn’t hurt me. And you certainly wouldn’t be talking me to death anytime soon. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with such a quiet man when I was such a talker myself.

I slipped out of the car with my jacket over my head, quickly opening the barn door and leading you inside. “It’s not much, and you’ll have some company, but there’s a cot in the back and a small heater.” I pointed out the room that we used to stay in when we had more horses and needed to stay close to watch them. “There’s even a shower of sorts, though I can’t say the water would be very warm. It’s pumped in from outside and there’s been no sun to warm it for days.” I stood on my tiptoes to turn on one of the many bare bulbs strung up high. One of these days I needed to fix that, make them more manageable for someone vertically challenged. You reached up easily and turned on another, slipping past me to finish brightening up the barn.

“There are some blankets in the corner on a bale of hay, you’re welcome to use them.” I watched as you slipped out of your leather jacket, your back to me. More strong muscles were outlined by the wet shirt you wore. I wondered if you wore anything that wasn’t black and then as you bent over to work off your boots I saw a hint of white peeking over the back of your jeans. Ah well there was something at least that wasn’t black I thought. “I’ll leave you to it then, I’m a bit of an early riser so um, I’ll see you in the morning. I’ll make you some breakfast and give you a ride to Candera.”

All the response you gave was a bit of a grunt as you sat down on the cot. I closed the barn down behind me surprised to see that the rain had stopped. The lady moon was showing her face from behind a cloud and stars twinkled around her. Maybe it was going to clear up, but there was still a crispness to the air. It felt late but really it was only 9. It had take me over an hour to get home, what with stopping to pick you up and driving slow. My stomach growled and I realized you probably hadn’t eaten either. I’d fix a quick bite and bring it back to you, something to warm you up and stick to your ribs.

It didn’t take long for me to reheat some of the stew I’d made the night before. I filled one of the handmade stone bowls with a generous helping and placed it and some rolls on a tray. A quick thought had me searching under the kitchen sink for an old thermos of my dad’s. The coffee would only be instant but it would be warm. Hmm, I turned back to the cupboard and sure enough, in the very back, was a bottle of whiskey. The good stuff, a little dusty but that just meant it had been aged to perfection.

I grabbed up the bundle of clothes in one hand while trying to balance the tray and whiskey. Somehow I made it out the door, across the yard, and to the barn. Wrestling with the door, the tray against my hip, it suddenly gave way. You turned, startled, stepping forward into the light as I slipped inside with the door swinging shut behind me.

“I – I’m sorry,” I stammered. “I thought you might be hungry, and cold and didn’t know if your clothes were wet in your bag. There’s coffee and stew and whiskey and oh no I forgot a cup.” The words seemed to spew from my mouth as I nervously set everything down on a bale. “God I’m sorry, I didn’t think to knock first, it was windy and you wouldn’t have heard and I’m sorry.”

“There a shirt in that bundle,” you asked. “Guess I could use one.”

I quickly pulled thermal shirt out and passed it to you, ducking and fussing with the tray. I heard you pulling it over your head and waited. “Um, the stew is from yesterday. It’s got meat in it, I hope you’re not one of those vegetarian people. This is pretty much beef country and it gets served with every meal. The whiskey is old, it was my dad’s, but it doesn’t go bad I don’t think. Coffee is only instant.”

You came to stand beside the tray, now covered up, and poured some of the coffee into the tin cup, adding a generous dose of whiskey. “Whiskey doesn’t get old, it just gets better. Kind of like women.” You looked up at me with a crooked smile. Now that I saw you in the light, I couldn’t imagine how I’d mistaken you for a man. Well, I suppose from the way you were dressed, you were one of those women who liked women. Not that there was anything wrong with it, it was just that this was a small town. You didn’t see things like that here. Although I’d heard of a couple that lived up the road a few towns away. I’d never seen them though.

It was funny, I was looking straight at you, hell I’d even caught a glimpse of breasts earlier; but I couldn’t seem to think of you as a girl. You were nothing like any of the girls I knew. I wasn’t like any of the girls I knew. I’d never been one of the fussy ones; working out on the ranch along side my dad it was easier to live in jeans and boots. Make-up just got wiped off or covered in sweat and dirt. The town girls had snickered at me a little, but I’d never paid any mind. I’d done alright with the boys and I enjoyed their company in bed. I was just quite capable of living without one.

“Okay well, I’ll say goodnight. If you’re up early, come knock on the kitchen door.” I ducked my head shyly and headed for the door.

“Thank you,” you said. “For the rescue, and the food. And the clothes.” It seemed you became more talkative when you warmed up – both physically and socially. I caught a glimpse of a gleam in your eye as I slipped out, something that sent a shiver through me. I couldn’t help but feel that maybe I’d picked up trouble along the road that night; either trouble or a big change.

A Time To Cry

February 21, 2010

This song came on today and it was so appropriate. It fits the way my life is going. People I care about are falling away leaving me hurting and broken. I’m really at a point where I want to stop connecting with anyone and everyone. I’d already filtered my online life down to just a very few that I thought were meaningful relationships and now those are fading too. So maybe I need to deal with the fact that at this point in my life I’m meant to be completely alone. Maybe I need to find a way to find fun in life while being alone and disconnected. To not care about the people that pass in and out of my life on a daily basis. Maybe it’s just my time to cry.

Without further ado – you can listen to Van Morrison sing it.

Sometimes it’s lonely on the lost highway
Sometimes we cry, sometimes we cry

Van Morrison – Sometimes We Cry

Cornered

February 19, 2010

Feel sorry for my blog lately – haven’t been writing much. Even stories don’t seem to be coming as easy. A lots going on in real life, which is part of the problem. And a lot more isn’t going on. Maybe avoiding twitter hasn’t helped. I kind of gave up on it because I don’t feel the connections any longer. Don’t feel like I’m a part of the flow. Seems like the flows have started moving on around me with barely a hiccup as they pass me by. Trying to find a place where I do belong. I enjoy tumblr and my blog so I’m keeping them up but I’ve felt a little empty.

I’m keeping in touch with a few, the ones that want to anyway. I’m really not hard to find. Maybe that’s passive-aggressive of me but hey if you don’t care enough to make the effort, then I’m not missing much. It always hurts when people find new paths that take them away from me but I can’t fault them for taking those paths. There are always reasons. Someone who was a better fit – a better “connect”. I’m doing my best to just let those go, not try and keep them by holding on too tight. As they say if you let it go and it comes back, it was meant to be.

Anyway – I do want to write. So if you want to drop ideas on me I’ll see what I can do. I do love writing but sometimes I feel like I have no clue what I’m talking about. Hard to write some scenes when you have no experience. That whole write what you know thing. And really, I’ve got a very boring life. Now you know the sad truth. Nothing exciting to write about damn it. Unless you could the FL folks that write me who are 18 and have no clue. Or the ones that immediately (without knowing me at all) want to jump on (or want me to jump on). Sorry folks but a conversation of a handful of messages back and forth doesn’t constitute “knowing me”.

Meh. Life is what it is but right now it’s not what I want. I’m feeling lonely, alone. Nothing that is mine. Except here. And I’m bored of it. Ennui is a killer. So ask me questions, or drop me a line to suggest a story. Or something. You know where to find me. Heck I might even put that damn google number up if I can. I’m on gmail. I check DMs and my FL account. So you may not see me, but I’ll be around, lurking in my corner.

Furniture Shopping

February 16, 2010

Microfantasy Monday comes from Sweltering Celt and this week’s theme is furniture.

“I’ve not been to any place like this before,” I said with a small voice. “What shall I wear?” “Oh, don’t worry, today you will not be staying there, so you may dress to please me.” I smiled and slipped on the new stockings you’d bought. I loved when you bought me things that were pleasing to both of us – these were delicately woven flowers in a rich amethyst. They had a lovely feel against my legs as I slid my feet into heels. You watched me from the corner of the room as you slipped on your belt, your eyes sliding over me, caressing my skin. The final piece I slipped over my head and let fall about me; a quick tug fit the top portion in place, giving me lovely cleavage and hidden support. With a possessive look you took my hand and led me out of the house.

The building you took me to was discreetly nestled in the midst of several ordinary retail shops. Within, the differences were obvious, although there was the same luxurious feel as the other stores in the area. The big difference was what was for sale. All the goods in the shop were naked, slicked with oil. All body types, all genders, were available for sale. One girl stood near the entrance with her hands sticking out from her body. I watched as you eased off your jacket and hung it on her hands with the others there. With both of her hands full, there was no room to put my wrap so you waved over another girl who took her place next to the first. A quick glance around the room showed men on their hands and knees being used as feet rests; others stood next to the settees holding drinks.

I had a few trepidations; I knew that at some point you would be bringing me here for my own training. We were also here today to make a purchase and I wasn’t sure how I would feel about that. I worried that whoever you chose would take my place. I should have known better, you had reassured me long ago that I was your pet; no one else could take my place. Now you waved your hand at the merchandise, “This will be your choice pet. I won’t be the one using this piece of furniture so you choose whatever you like.”

Onomatopoeia

February 12, 2010

Well really, Buzz is an onomatopoeia. And it’s got the twitter/facebook/google/friendfeed world going. I am amused by people who say Buzz will take the place of twitter (or the ones who said twitter is for sharing information and not a chat program).

First, twitter IS an information sharing, chat whatever program. That’s it’s beauty. If all you want to see is a bunch of informative links, follow those people and only share links. Don’t bother interacting.

But for many, twitter is about the interaction. You post a link to a picture, to a blog, to a whatever, and then we talk. Lots of people back and forth, real time. Or you make a comment, or think aloud. Whatever. It’s like anything – if it’s the funny guy even the potty jokes will be listened to. If you’re the geek/dweeb/annoyance (mind you I’m a geek – this is an example only) then only the others like you will pay attention. Maybe.

This buzz is very different. I can’t ever see *me* using it like twitter. Buzz tends to take that one 140-character tweet and expand it wildly. And I do mean “wildly”. They seem to quickly become unwieldy. It does have some great features but I really don’t want to follow my entire twitter stream. So far a couple people have managed to completely take over my buzz stream and not necessarily in a good way. Yes I like some of the content, but not all of it. And just one very popular person in buzz makes for annoying long conversation streams in just one buzz. And muting doesn’t stop him!

Good points: love being able to see a picture or a blog post in it’s entirety (I understand they’re fixing it so you can post comments from within buzz?) And since a lot of the stuff I read is NSFW but that seems to be the best time for me to read them, this is a definite plus. Also, I’m not a twitter link clicker unless it’s really something cool. So now I can see more of it, decide if it’s cool enough to follow through to.

Bad points: no easy mute button. No way to automatically pile all of a person’s Buzz streams together (for those that post a LOT). Or maybe a way to mark them as read and they auto collapse down. I like googlewave’s take on that – you scroll through them and they’re marked as read. That’d work for me.

The mute doesn’t stay muted. As soon as someone posts again, it pops back in. If you make the mistake of expanding the comments in someone else’s buzz stream – you can’t collapse them back down.

Also? Twitter streams to buzz are actually annoying. But if I could selectively filter (hashtags?) out things from a person’s stream – I’d be okay with that. Then if I wanted to see what they’d said on twitter recently, I could. Although it’s so much easier to click into the other tab and check their profile. This is buzz – not twitter.

Big drawback for me is the co-mingling of followers. I have people I converse with on a regular basis who are kinky and know I am to, so I don’t have to watch what I say. Then there are those that don’t know that side of me – but here they are, in my gmail for my kinky acount (this is a all the way through downfall btw, not just buzz) and they somehow end up my chat program and following me on my reader etc. They don’t know who I am – I hope. I don’t put my real last name in and I don’t talk to them with those accounts. But still. Tutivillus from Dungeonplace put up a great idea on this topic: Google Buzz And Privacy. I definitely need to get in there and clean it out – figure out a way to separate those contacts. Since buzz auto adds these contacts and makes many things more transparent – this problem in gmail becomes HUGE.

Gmail lets me respond to emails in multiple ways (ie from any of my numerous email accounts) – why can’t Buzz? This doesn’t alleviate the problem completely – I can’t follow people with my kinky account if they’re part of the public-friendly group – but at least if I pop over to that buzz stream, I can reply. But hey – you can feed in multiple emails to gmail, why not multiple buzz streams?

Oh and it’s distracting me from my mail. Once I start a conversation or join in on one, it’s in my email so the fact that I just keep email open works well. But going back and forth gets annoying. Okay yes, I need to just quit whining because hey – they are in the same window.

So upshot is, I like the potential, but the drawbacks may eventually capsize the boat for me. I can see a lot of use for it. I’ve joked about an “orgy” – and heard people refer to it as IRC 2. And in a sense that’s exactly what it is. Each little buzz becomes it’s own “chat room” and the topic guides the discussion – or lets it wander down rabbit trails. An online orgy – er discussion of best kink practices could be a great way to use it.

Hmm. Just an interesting thought – speed games. This is definitely an IRC hold over. We used to play trivia and threesomes (aka tribond) and Dirty minds (look it up) – and we could have winners based on first correct answer. Wonder if that’d work in here?

I had thought writing groups would work well in here, but a friend pointed out that the wave ability to edit in-line by anyone is even better for that. Still, maybe a set time once a week. A topic gets posted and everyone has to write their story/poem/whatever right in that Buzz within that time frame? Just brainstorming here.

So that’s the buzz on Buzz. (I bet that’s going to be said a lot)