Monday, January 26, 2015


How long has it been since I was free, able, allowed to touch myself at will? Months, slipped into years.

How long has it been since I was erect, like a boy, instead of soft, like a girl? Weeks, slipped into months.

How long has it been since the feminine became the norm, the daily existence? Years, slipped into decades.

How long has it been since my pleasure was reduced to the frustrating touches through a locked cage? Since she realized this was the natural state of things.

How long has it been since I was inside her? Before him, before he claimed that right as his own.

"Do you miss it, Sara," he asked me, "do you miss being inside a woman, inside her?"

"Yes," I whispered, unable to even meet his eyes.

"Would you switch places, if you could?"

"No," I answered, not even needing to think, to consider.

"No," Matthew said, "no, of course you wouldn't."

He knew, as she did, as I did, the essence of it. The thing every sissy, every cuckold wanted so much, to be with a woman, was the thing we were most afraid of, ashamed of, trying to please a woman like a man.

That was the thing, the conflict. Surrendering. Accepting.

"What do you think of when she's gone," he asked. I hesitated. "Sara..."

"You, her."

"She's a sweet woman, she's lucky to have you."

"I'm the lucky one," I said, automatic, as it was the truth. He smiled. "What?"

"Something only someone like you would say or even understand. She's lucky, too, though, I mean it, to have someone that understands her needs, her desire to surrender now and then. Both of you, really."

I blushed, looked away, not quite ashamed, but still, humiliated by my thoughts, the feeling powerful, erotic.

Friday, January 23, 2015


I feel bad, I should update more, but I'm busy at work, busy at home, busy finishing a story.

They're going out tonight, a simple date, dinner, drinks at his place after, more.

Something a million couple do every Friday night.

He asked me the other day, how I feel when she comes home after being with him, what words describe my feelings.

Jealous. Torn. Honored. Happy. Excited.

"Do you want her to stop," he asked.

"No," I said.

"Are you sure, Sara," he asked.

"Yes," I told him, part of me conflicted, as always, part of me certain.

Wednesday, January 14, 2015

This, on the other hand, is something I LOVE to do

This explains it

Why am I locked in chastity? Because I couldn't do this to a woman even if she begged me. Sex like this is something a man does. Seriously, never in a million years could I ever give a woman this.

All roads lead to bliss

Practice makes perfect


"Honey, you're asking the wrong isn't when I'll unlock the cage, it's if I'll ever unlock it; and quite frankly, I'm not sure I see a need to."

Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Happy New Year

Unlike last year, New Year's Eve was mine with Emily--we cooked, stayed in, drank some wine, played a game, talked, laughed, kissed at midnight, went to sleep in each other's arms. It was like a girl's night in.

New Year's Day? Well on Friday night, someone else rang in the new year the right way, the masculine way.

All in all, all three of us got just what we wanted.

Tuesday, December 30, 2014


I'm writing a new book, almost done. I know a few of you have offered to read it first (and give me comments/edits)...anyone still interested?

Do Not Open Until Christmas (2015)

I don't think I'll have to wait that long, but I know it isn't coming off in 2014!

Emily is the most innocent looking woman you'd ever meet, she is gracefully and full of class.

I love watching her in the mornings, naked, smiling, getting dressed. Seeing her like this, so innocent, so apparently chaste, makes what she does with Matthew that much more exciting.

Monday, December 22, 2014


What's the saying? "A happy wife makes for a happy life."

Well, some of the things that make Emily (and me) so happy.

Wednesday, December 10, 2014


I don't know why we started talking about it, but I couldn't remember the last time I was inside Emily.

"It's been forever," I said, complaining, but not really complaining.

"I can ask him," she said gently, meaning it.

"No...I...I don't want you to ask...I...I'm just saying it's been forever."

"Months, not forever."

"Seasons," I joked, then started thinking. "Seriously...we haven't since the wedding...since you met him...that was June...summer...and we hadn't for awhile before that...April...May? It's been since spring...and it's almost's been seasons...not months...seasons..."


"Do you miss it," I asked, trolling her.

She looked down. "I...I'd miss intimacy," she dodged the question.

"But not that," I pressed.

"No," she looked away, embarrassed. " you?"

"I like it..."

"Do you miss it," she turned it back on me.

"I...I don't know...I guess...I like other things more."

"I know," she touched my leg, "so do I, Sara."

"I'm not saying I never want to..."

"Do you? Will you...if Matthew..."

"Allows it," I finished. "Of course."

She smiled. "You're so adorable. god..."

"I might forget how..."

She had a guilty look. "You never really knew how, love," she teased, "I mean...with it inside me."