And It Begins Again. . . Maybe

It’s a funny thing about boundaries and taboos. It is scary, sometimes very scary, to cross a line, to step over a boundary, to go into forbidden territory. However, once you’ve gone there it’s even harder not to go back. There is something about having done it, having crossed the line already that makes it easier the second time and the third and so forth.

That’s why it’s important to think long and hard about it before making that initial leap. It’s much harder to go back than it is not to go there in the first place. So my advice to you is don’t go there. Don’t step across the line. Don’t cross the boundary. At least don’t do it unless you really think you want to keep going back there.

So what does this have to do with my life right now? What has me thinking of such wise and philosophical advice? My dark side. I have a dark side – a deep dark side with deep dark thoughts. If you’ve read this blog for a while you certainly know that.

Right now I am in a sexual drought. M moved away in the spring. J hasn’t contacted me in a long time, and since he almost got caught the last time we were together I don’t think we’ll be getting together anytime soon. In short, I am sex starved. When I go through a sexual drought my mind wanders into dangerous territory. Sometimes, too often some would say, my body follows my mind and wanders too.

At this time I’m in the mind’s arena only, but if the opportunity were to present itself I have little doubt that my body will follow. It isn’t just if an opportunity arises. I am working pretty diligently to find a willing partner, maybe more than one, maybe several. I’m not just looking for straight vanilla sex either. I’m on the prowl for down and dirty, a little kink here, a little perversion there. I’ve been trolling some of my old haunts, and found some new ones, on the internet to see what/who I can find.

So desperate do I feel for carnal pleasures I even emailed BJ the other day. I did it not because I want him back (I don’t) or that I’ve never gotten over him (I have). It’s just that he is one of very few people in the world who I trust 100% in a sexual way. I know him. He knows me. We know each other’s most perverse perversions. I know he would take care of me in the manner I want if we were to try living out some of my fantasies. He and I have conversed a bit, and there is definitely a possibility that we will be getting together to play one of these days.

And all the while the little cricket on my shoulder keeps whispering to me, “Danger Will Robinson! Danger!” (Wait a minute. Did I just mix a metaphor? Why yes, yes I did. That’s what happens when you have a prolific post with no proper ending.)