joined on 04/07/08
last updated 10/30/09
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about me
I'm a bookish middle-aged guy in my third serious relationship. I'm looking back on a few years of erotic self-dscovery that changed my life. Three summers of Body Electric intensives blew the top of my head off--and helped blow the bottom out of Relationship Number Two. Right now, it's time in my life to focus on building my relationship with the man I love, who's not ready for me to go traipsing off to another week of tantric group wanking. To every thing there is a season.The circular tattoo on my left shoulder blade reads "Destroyer of Illusion," if you can decipher the script. If you ask, I'll be glad to share how it got there.
The tribe.net template for religion doesn't allow for flexible options. But I'm a slut and will pray with anybody.
Valley of Dry Bones
(blog entry)
I've been disappointed for months logging on to find so little of the lively exchange I remember on Tribe from a year ago. And have been guilty myself of not posting regularly, or thoughtfully. And am inspired by Khrysso's recent announcement of h...
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Topsy Turvy--Chapter the Last
(blog entry)
(Photo by kind permission of Sin~cerely Cedar)
When the late daffodils finished in May, we took up the flower bed at the side of the house by the stairs to the back door, moving everything to make space for the wheelchair ramp. By that time, ...
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Topsy Turvy--Chapter 7
(blog entry)
Paul hesitated. Jim’s smile faded as I held his gaze, and a hard light flashed from his eye. I pressed my weight into his biceps, pressing his shoulders against the wall behind the bed. “Do it,” Jim said to Paul, and stretched his arms out towards...
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Topsy Turvy--Chapter 6
(blog entry)
Light woke me angling up off the night’s fast-melting snowfall and through the bedroom’s south window, over which I’d never gotten around to drawing the curtains. Stretching, my arm grazed Paul’s chest where his torso lay curled up and over my sho...
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Topsy Turvy--Chapter 5
(blog entry)
The tug of his fingers ringed around my balls tightened as his rhythm solidified. His own prick, as he stroked it, was about a foot away from my face, an irresistible invitation to lean in and take short licks as his hand slid down from head to ba...
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I've been disappointed for months logging on to find so little of the lively exchange I remember on Tribe from a year ago. And have been guilty myself of not posting regularly, or thoughtfully. And am inspired by Khrysso's recent announcement of his resolve to post something, to at least one of this tribes, every day. I'm seconding that, and inviting those who read this to do likewise. I have little interest in the inanities of Facebook ("Liudolf is now leaving the checkout line"), let alone ...
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(Photo by kind permission of Sin~cerely Cedar)
When the late daffodils finished in May, we took up the flower bed at the side of the house by the stairs to the back door, moving everything to make space for the wheelchair ramp. By that time, Paul had already pretty much moved in full time, and the last haul of his stuff from his sister’s place was just a few boxes of things he hadn’t wanted for months. The electric chair-lift is finally arriving next week, which will make Paul’s daily ro...
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Paul hesitated. Jim’s smile faded as I held his gaze, and a hard light flashed from his eye. I pressed my weight into his biceps, pressing his shoulders against the wall behind the bed. “Do it,” Jim said to Paul, and stretched his arms out towards the posts.
Paul started to leave enough play in the rope for Jim to bring his hand forward toward Paul’s arm as he worked. “Tighter,” I said, and took up the slack myself while he tied the knots. I grabbed Paul by the back of the neck and the b...
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Light woke me angling up off the night’s fast-melting snowfall and through the bedroom’s south window, over which I’d never gotten around to drawing the curtains. Stretching, my arm grazed Paul’s chest where his torso lay curled up and over my shoulder, his face nuzzled into my hair. My feet were untied, the rope lying near the foot of the bed. My head clearing after a minute or so, I started to grasp that what had seemed a wonderfully bright morning was in fact the light of mid-day. The cloc...
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The tug of his fingers ringed around my balls tightened as his rhythm solidified. His own prick, as he stroked it, was about a foot away from my face, an irresistible invitation to lean in and take short licks as his hand slid down from head to base. As I flicked at it, I took in the rippling undulation of his abs at close range, then the skinniness of his thighs offsetting the heft of his pole.
His rhythm slowed; he came up off my cock. “Freaks you out a little, doesn’t it?” he asked.
...
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