12 Secret Hiding Places for Crafty Kinksters!

Today I received the February edition of The Family Handyman, a fun little magazine with loads of DIY home improvement tips and tricks. This month there was an interesting article called “20 Secret Hiding Places” which was a list of clever ways to hide your valuables around the house. Pervert that I am I couldn’t help thinking about some kinky crossover appeal for those who play around the house, or for those who have curious younglings. So with that in mind….

12 Secret Hiding Places for Kinksters
Or
12 Ways to Make Your Kinky Home Vanilla Friendly in 12 Minutes or Less

1.The Old Hollowed-Out Book Trick Any Big Lots or Walmart will have a hollowed out book to use for storage. Sure they may be great for hiding some cash or a passport (even if they are completely conspicuous on a book shelf) but they wouldn’t do much good for hiding anything larger than say…a pair of handcuffs. So give this a try. Take 10-12 books of the same size (can slip a kinky title or two in there…The Story of O, Justine, Marquis de Sade, etc) and cut them down with a band or jig saw till you are left with only an inch or two of the binding. Build a plywood box the size of the remainder of the book. Attach the 1-2” portion of the book side by side to the front of the plywood box with a strong glue (construction grade). If you want the sides to be visible remember to keep the appropriate cover on the end pieces and glue them down. Now you have a 1-1/2’x6-8” box that can be kept in plain sight! Plenty of room for a flogger, rope or a dildo big enough to satisfy even the biggest size queen!

2. Right Out In The Open The magazine suggest using an old vacuum with a bag compartment for this. Now I don’t know about you but I don’t have an old non-working vacuum just lying around the house. So instead I substituted something I have and have used for concealed storage; an old computer tower. I removed the casing and gutted it. (Yay, extra memory!) Once gutted I used a thin, flexible plastic cutting board (available at most dollar stores in packages of 2), trimmed it, glued and taped it into place creating interior walls. Then just slip the casing back in place (no need for screws) and voila! A large area for you to store valuables (kinky or otherwise) that no one will think twice about.

3. Air-Return Stash Cut out a stud space opening to fit a return air grille. Cut off the grille screws and glue just the heads in place. Run 4 drywall screws into the corners of the opening so they fit just inside the rim of the grille. Then glue magnets to the back of the grille so they line up with the screw heads. Now you have a concealed space in the wall that no one would suspect a thing! Excellent for hiding larger items like chains and restraints.

4. Buried Treasure Got any “life challenged” (plastic) plants? Then you’ve got a hidey spot! Usually the “soil” they sit in tends to be of the Styrofoam variety. Cut the bottom half to 2/3rds off. This creates a handy dandy hidey hole large enough to fit a doubled over flogger, slapper or similar.

5. Ming Vase of Kink If you happen to have a tall ornamental vase then you probably already know how handy they can be for hiding stuff. If your vase is at least 3’ tall it is an excellent place to hide some crops or canes! A rigid piece of plastic can be fit inside the vase’s opening (under the neck) with holes to slide your crops into. This way they hang freely and won’t bend. A similarly colored ceramic bowl can be inserted into the neck of the vase to hide the crops from prying eyes. If you get a good fit on the bowl no one will ever notice that it doesn’t belong.

6. False-Bottomed Drawer Pick a deep drawer so the depth change won’t be obvious. Computer desk drawers can be ideal for this. Cut 1/4” plywood 1/16” smaller than the drawer opening and rest it on a couple of wood strips that are glued to the drawer sides. Then hot-glue some item you’d expect to find in that drawer to the bottom so you have a handle to lift the false bottom and reveal the booty!

7. Cabinet Hidey-Hole Between almost every pair of upper cabinets, there is a 1/2” gap. Take advantage of that gap by hanging long thin items you don’t want seen there. Use large binder clips to keep the item(s) from slipping down. Crops? Canes? Have a slave contract you don’t want to lose but don’t want to file with the tax returns? This is a good place to store it!

8. Toe-Kick HideawayThere is an enormous 4” tall cavity under most to all kitchen cabinets behind the toe-kicks. It may take a little carpentry skills but you can pull the toe-kicks free and make them removable. Most are 1/4” plywood held in place with 1” brads, and they are plenty easy to pull off. (If you have a secondary 3/4” toe-kick, you will have to cut it out at both ends. An oscillating tool works well for that task.) Stick both halves of a round hook and loop self-adhesive tape to the toe-kick. Then push the toe-kick into place. The adhesive will stick to the cabinet base and leave half the hook and loop tape in place when you pull it free. You can store whatever you want under there! A cash box is the perfect size, though I have known someone to fit an entire under-the-bed storage tote under his cabinets!

9. Stair Storage Chances are that under your stair boards contain a ready-made box for you to store your kinky gear. Pry up a tread and attach a hinge. BAM! I recommend also adding a baby safe cabinet lock to keep the tread from lifting (and tripping you) if you catch it with your toe.

10. PVC Party Time! Play in the basement? Well chances are you might have some exposed pipes. For about $10 you can make a fake PVC pipe complete with a cleanout plug. Unscrew the plug and you have an area large enough to fit a flogger or dildo. NO ONE will suspect it is ANYTHING other than what it appears to be!

11. Putting Your Kink Back IN The Closet Have an old jacket you don’t wear anymore? Then you have a great hidey spot for your hanging toys! Sew the bottom of the jacket closed and add a couple of hooks to the bottom of a hanger (The Better Built Bondage Book has a great how-to for this). Hang your floggers/whips from the hooks and then zip up the jacket! Out of sight… perhaps not so out of mind!

12. I’m Game! In this digital age they may be going the way of the dodo but if you are like me you still enjoy a good board game. Hell I have a shelf in the closet full of them! I also have a couple of 1000 piece puzzle boxes even though I hate jigsaw puzzles. But the boxes make excellent and convenient places to sock away a bandana, rope and a toy or two for when I want an impromptu play session. The boxes are sturdy and rigid so you don’t have to worry about things being piled on top harming your toys inside. Plus chances are no one is coming to your house and saying “OH! Let’s jigsaw!” unless of course there is a dildo attached!

Superman/Batman Smut

Another stab of mine into the realm of fan fic. This I believe is categorized as slash. It was inspired by the tension I have been picking up on between these two characters (Superman and Batman) from recent books and movies (of the animated variety). "Doom" in particular.

If you are overly attached to the heterosexuality of your childhood super heroes then you may want to just skip this. If you don't like man sex you probably don't want to read this either.

It's long.



A tall man with perfectly coiffed black hair and broad shoulders was wedged into a tiny kitchenette. His massive arms flexed putting strain on the slightly too small shirt he wore as he stirred a large silver pot of bubbling red liquid. He lifted the wooden spoon from the sauce and raised it, past his square smooth jaw to his firm rosy lips.

‘More thyme.’ The man thought to himself. He turned and grabbed a small ceramic jar from the sideboard. Or at least what he used as a sideboard. It was barely the size of a butcher block but it was all that would fit in the tiny space so he made it work. At least most of the time he did. In the process of reaching for the herb jar he knocked his elbow into a binder which was propped up on a neighboring jar. He felt his stomach lurch. He reached out and grabbed the binder long before it hit the ground. In fact it had barely fallen at all but still he flipped through the pages furiously and confirmed that no damage had been done. Not that much could have happened to his mother’s hand written recipes. He had given each page a meticulous base bath to remove any acids left upon the paper by her skin. Then he had cleaned each page before laminating it in a resin plastique of his own invention. Her recipes would stand the test of time.

Instead of replacing the binder on the sideboard he opened the highest cupboard and put it away. He hadn’t needed it. He knew all of her recipes by heart. But he always got it out when he was cooking. Seeing his mother’s handwriting was a balm to the never ceasing pain of his homesickness. Cooking from her recipes conjured her presence across the miles. It reminded him of when he helped her in the kitchen when he was a boy. He thought of how she would laugh to see him so ungainly in his micro kitchenette. So small he couldn’t turn around without knocking something over. Trying to make gourmet meals on an electric burner with 3 settings: Low, Med and High. He chuckled as he snapped the cabinet shut. Maybe tomorrow he would dash home and pay her a visit. It had been a few weeks and dad could probably use help with the farm. Yes, he decided, tomorrow he would make an impromptu trip home. If tonight went as he anticipated then perhaps he could tell his mother, finally. And if it didn’t go according to plan then…well…his mother had always knew what comforting words would reach him when nothing else could.

Well, nothing except him.

If he was really honest with himself he could admit that he may well need his mother’s sympathy tomorrow. But nothing ventured, nothing gained after all. So he left tomorrow for tomorrow and focused on the task ahead of him.

He looked at the clock on the wall. 10:53. He stopped moving and listened. It took a few seconds to sort through the din but before long he heard the familiar rustle of fabric that he was listening for. The subtle sound of wind resistance. He opened his eyes. He only had 3 minutes. Three and a half if the wind coming off the river created a decent drag.

He popped off the top of the jar and pulled out a sprig of thyme. He smelled it, pinched off 2/3rds and crumbled it into the sauce. He stirred and took another taste. ‘Perfect’ he thought as he closed and replaced the jar.

He picked up a handful of noodles and threw them into the water before stared at the water intently. A second later the water began to boil. He placed the pan of noodles on the stove’s surface and walked the 4 steps to the living area. The apartment was tiny. There was only one room, apart from the miniscule bathroom, that served as bedroom and living space combined. As there was also no wall to divide the kitchen from the living area he had done what he could with the space that he had. There was a small 2 person table that acted as a partition between the two areas. A large comfortable deep red leather couch was pushed up against a faux bookcase which concealed, amongst other things, a Murphy bed. The pale blue the walls were painted was their only adornment. No pictures, no television, no anything marred their smooth surface. A tiny mahogany dresser so dark it was almost the same red of the couch was tucked away in the far corner by the door. In truth the room was too small for anything else. Or else he was too large for it. He never knew which. If he wanted to pull down the bed he had to push the couch against the door. If he wanted to take a shower he had to put the bed away and move the couch again. The only reason he kept the place was because of the balcony. He crossed to the glass sliding door and pulled it open.

The sound of Metropolis invaded. All around him cars honked, trains clacked, people bustled. He took a deep breath and pushed it all away.

There it was. The woosh that told him he had less than a minute. Less time than he had expected. He left the door open and went back to the stove and checked the noodles. He pulled the colander out of the cabinet and drained the water into the sink. He opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of white wine which he uncorked and was decanting into a glass jar when he heard a sound so quiet it even he, who was expecting it, almost missed it. He smiled to himself.“You took 32nd. I thought you preferred coming via the Battery.” He said turning around.

What he saw almost took his breath away.

Standing in the frame of the glass door was a strangely glorious sight. A big man by most standards with shoulders almost as broad as his own but with tighter, more compact muscles. His own came naturally and had a languid firmness but this man had worked for every chiseled line. They could be seen even beneath the Kevlar mesh suit and armor he wore. Everything about the man radiated power from his stance which suggested he was ready to spring out the window at a moments’ notice to the way the cape he wore hung from his broad shoulders almost regally. His face was shrouded in the darkness from the doorway but the silhouette he cast on the floor showed two point ears on the top of his head. When he spoke his voice was gravely, deep and guttural. “You said you could hear me coming that way.”

“The rusty flag pole.” Clark said.

The man in the dark suit nodded. “I tried a new route.”

He considered this. True the rusty flagpole was a dead giveaway that he would soon have a visitor on his balcony but Bruce was mistaken when he believed that Clark knew of his approach because he listened for him landing on objects. In truth that had nothing to do with it. Every second of every day an infinite number of sounds reached his ears. Most of which were the mundane sounds of life, of the city. From 30 miles away the sound of a man landing on a rusty flag pole sounds shockingly similar to a minor fender-bender, of which there were hundreds each day. So Clark had to listen for distinctive sounds. Sounds that were unlike any other. In reality it was the sound of a man flinging himself through space that Clark heard. But he didn’t feel the need to correct Bruce’s mistaken belief. He knew that if Bruce knew there was no way for him to sneak up on Clark, he would not even try.

“Alfred told me you needed me. I’m here. What are we doing?” Bruce asked, his stance shifting slightly suggesting he was impatient to get to work.

‘No.’ thought Clark ‘Not Bruce. Not yet anyway.’ Still he pressed forward. Clark picked up the pot of noodles and dumped them in the waiting colander. He turned to the table where he held his hand out indicating the beautifully set table for two. “Having dinner.” He said with a smile.

Not a single muscle in the masked man’s face flinched. “I don’t have time for jokes.”

Clark began scooping out the noodles onto the awaiting plates. He looked up and said “I’m not joking. I want you to have dinner with me.”

No change in expression but Clark knew that behind the cowl an eyebrow was being arched. When he spoke his voice was exasperated. “Like I said, I don’t have time for…”

But Clark cut him off. “In actual fact, you do. Lex is out of town stirring up trouble in Uzbekistan. Nothing I can do about that until he returns and in the meantime Metropolis is rather quiet. You put The Joker back in Arkham and none of the others have plans which will come to fruition imminently.”

If possible the man in the balcony doorway became more rigid. “Been watching over my shoulder again? Metropolis not big enough for you?”

A shiver ran down Clark’s neck but he ignored it. He had known pulling this off wouldn’t be easy. And of all the plans (and hopes) he had for the evening, this would be the most difficult; convincing him to stay. So he faced the wall of hostility and said “Gotham is different from Metropolis, Bruce.” The man in the doorway flinched at the name. “Here Lex and the others are all about spin. They present the good face to the public. They don’t show their cards until the last second. But your group are different. Maybe it’s because of the mad house, I don’t know, but they all are rather up front about their intentions. I don’t claim to know the details and specifics but it isn’t that hard to get a general idea. And none of Gotham’s underworld are making any moves, at least not right now. Not tonight.”

“So I should let my guard down.” He almost spit the words.

A subtle shifting of his weight toward the open door told Clark he had to work fast to keep him here. “Would you come in and close the door?”

The man’s feet stood rooted to the ground, his arms crossed over the black symbol of a bat that adorned his chest, awaiting a response.

Clark heaved a sigh and then moved as fast as he could to the door and slid it shut before returning to the sink to retrieve the colander of noodles. He had moved as fast as he could which meant that even Bruce couldn’t see him move. But he was too well trained not to sense movement. Clark watched as Bruce strafed left, away from the rush of movement that had been Clark, and further into the room.

“Don’t DO THAT!” The Bat said firmly, almost yelling. A flash of silver as he reholstered a batarang.

“I’m sorry” Clark said as if nothing had happened “but no one is asking you to be less than vigilant. What we are saying is that you need a night off.”

“We?” Batman barked instantly suspicious. “Who is we?”

‘Damn!’ he thought to himself. This wasn’t going well. He took a deep breath and put his cards on the table. “Don’t be angry but I coordinated with Alfred. Dick is in Gotham tonight keeping an eye on things, just in case. And Oracle is online. Gotham is protected so you don’t have to worry. Just for one night we, all four of us, want you to relax.”

“So you have all been talking about me behind my back?” the whites of his eyes flashed as he spoke.

It figures that he would seize on that point. “We only talked about how you need a rest. You have been going full out since Bane….” But the look in his eye was so cutting that Clark changed tactics immediately. “We all just thought perhaps you could use a rest. Dick said I should grab you and fly to Maui. He thinks that you need a vacation.” He flashed his most winning smile.

“Nightwing,” The Batman said pointedly “has responsibilities of his own. You had no right to pull him from Bludhaven! He has left his city unprotect…”

“Bludhaven is not unprotected. Dick would never do that. He was too well trained to do something that stupid. Bludhaven, like Gotham, is being looked after.”

Seeing the logic in this the vigilante shifted tactics. “I still don’t like you having secret conversations with Alfred about me.”

“And I don’t like that you have a stock of kryptonite bullets.” Clark said with a smile. His attempt at a joke fell dead in the air between them. So Clark tried again. He looked deeply into those dark eyes and said “Alfred is worried about you Bruce. Terribly worried.”

The fire in his eyes died down, dampened by his love for Alfred. “He hasn’t said anything to me.”

“Hasn’t he?” Clark said, his eyebrows raised skeptically. In the silence that followed Clark could almost hear Alfred’s many admonitions to Bruce about his eating, sleeping and work habits. He let them linger before saying “He says you haven’t been sleeping. That your Wayne functions get you up first thing in the morning and your work as The Batman keeps you out all night. He says that you are burning your candle at both ends and he is terribly afraid that you will burn yourself out.”

“I…I…I can’t afford to take a night off.” The Bat said, but this time his voice was less dark. It rang less with steely resolution. There was doubt.

Clark struck. “I think we have already established you can. At least for tonight. At least for dinner. Sit.” he said.

The man’s eyes, though darkened to black pools by the shadows he hid in, narrowed alertly. Clark added “Please Bruce.”

But The Bat was looking through him, off into space. Clark watched those eyes as they evaluated the situation, while they calculated tall he factors and came to a conclusion. After a full minute of ringing silence the man took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. He paused and then turned to the balcony door.

Clark’s felt his heart plummeting. He was going to leave. He wouldn’t stay. All the planning was wasted. His hopes, dashed. But then suddenly his heart swooped upward again in dizzying joy as he heard the lock on the sliding door sliding shut. He watched as the man reached out an arm and drew the thick maroon curtains which blocked out the balcony and the city, entirely. As he turned around he pulled the black cowl from his head. As he faced Clark he ran a hand through his thick black hair, which despite being plastered to his head by the cowl moments earlier floofed right up into a short elegant style. The darkness of his hair brought focus to the deep blue pools that were Bruce’s eyes. When the cowl concealed his face there was no light to those eyes. Only shrewd, calculating cunning. But as soon as the mask came off there was a spark. A glint. An easing of a burden which allowed him no light or respite. The symbol came off and the man emerged.

Clark couldn’t contain the smile which stretched his face ear to ear.

Bruce flashed his own dazzling smile. “I yield. I assume since you and Alfred are such accomplished masterminds, he figured I wouldn’t want to have dinner in my suit.” He said slapping the symbol emblazoned on his chest.

Clark grinned still wider. “He sent over something for you to wear. Second drawer.”

Bruce nodded briefly and crossed to the dresser. Clark turned back to the noodles still smiling. He poured the noodles into the sauce pan and stirred it all together. It was going better than he imagined. He had thought he would have to talk a great deal more. As if Bruce could be talked into anything. But once presented with the facts at hand he made a decision. And once that decision had been made he was able to almost instantly relax. A great deal of his worries had come off with that cowl. Clark envied him this kind of control.

He tried to focus on these thoughts and not the sounds of Bruce undressing in the small bathroom. And when the doorknob turned and Bruce reentered the room Clark made sure he was busy mixing the noodles.

“So do you have a place I can hang this up?”

Clark turned around. Despite mentally preparing himself for it, he still felt like he had taken a blow to the stomach. Bruce stood there wearing dark grey workout pants and a blue hoodie so dark blue it might have been black. The sleeves were pushed half way up his forearms and his feet were bare. Clark could tell by the plunging V of the hoodie’s neckline and the way the material, whatever it was, was so thin it clung to his frame, that he was wearing nothing under the soft looking shirt. His right arm was raised holding up his Batsuit which was hung on a thick hanger.

When Clark didn’t respond Bruce repeated “I assume you have some place I can hang this.”

Clark was so taken by the strikingly handsome figure Bruce cut that he didn’t attempt to speak. He just nodded and crossed to the far wall. He grabbed the back frame of the couch and swung it up into the air. He held it there while he pushed a concealed button on the frame of the bookcase. Clark could tell by the look in Bruce’s eyes that he expected the Murphy unit to swing down but instead there was a clang of a lock being released and the front of the bookcase swung open like a door. Lights inside the bookcase flickered on and illuminated the bright red and blue of Clark’s own suit. The red “S” emblazoned across the field of blue shone in the light.

Still holding the couch aloft with one hand Clark took the black and grey suit from Bruce with the other and hung it on the wall facing his own. He then swung the door back closed. As it shut Bruce nodded approvingly as heard the whir of the lock being reset.

Bruce backed up and Clark repositioned the couch in front of the bookcase. When he had it straight he turned around to find Bruce looking at him appraisingly.

“Impressive.”

Clark felt blood rushing to his face. He turned away to hide the blush he couldn’t stop. He crossed to the pan and stirred the noodles yet again. He heard a chair slide out and Bruce settle himself at the table.

“What is for dinner? I’m starving.”

Hoping that the calming breaths he had taken had taken the red from his cheeks Clark turned around with the pan. “Spaghetti.”

“I’m not sure Alfred would approve. He had me on a strict diet.” Bruce said only half jokingly.

Clark ladled out a tangled mass of noodles and sauce onto their plates. “I already cleared it with him.”

Bruce chuckled. “Of course you have. Well then, I suppose that wine has been cleared as well so you might as well pour me a glass.”

As Clark poured the wine he had to concentrate extra hard. For some reason his hands were the tiniest bit shaky. As soon as he had finished pouring Bruce snatched up the glass and drank the contents down. He then held out the glass to Clark who refilled it. This time Bruce took a deep sip and sat the glass back down and dug into the pile of food before him with gusto. He was 5 giant bites in before he surfaced to say “This is delicious!”

“Thank you. It is my mother’s recipe.” Clark said.

“Your mother could give Alfred lessons. And that is no small fete, I assure you.” Bruce said between mouthfuls.

Clark tried to keep his face calm but inside he was glowing. “Well I will be sure to tell her the next time I see her.”

Bruce shoveled a few more mouthfuls in before he asked if Clark minded if he put on some music. Clark was just saying that he didn’t actually have a radio when Bruce waved him down. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and tapped its surface. A second later a rich dark beat expanded into the room.

They talked as Bruce ate his way through 2 plates of spaghetti and Clark pecked at his. Bruce telling him about the fundraising he had been doing to renovate Gotham’s slums. He was telling Clark a funny story about a woman who had propositioned him at a gala.

“So then she slips on the napkin and slaps her hand on the table.” As he said it he slapped his hand down on the table's surface. His pinky finger hit the fork which was resting on a last bite of spaghetti. The fork and spaghetti went flying into the air, both coming to rest on the front of Bruce’s shirt. Clark burst out in laughter.

Bruce stood up and shook the noodles from his front. “Oh man… this is cashmere!”

Clark said still laughing. “I am sure you can buy yourself a new one.”

“You don’t stay a billionare by buying a new outfit every time you get a stain. But I will admit that I don’t have a clue on how to clean it. Do you have something I can wear?”

Still laughing Clark stood and crossed to the drawer. From the top drawer he pulled out a blue sweater. It was a dark blue but a bit more vivid than the one Bruce was wearing. He turned around just as Bruce was pulling his hoodie off.

His chest was perfectly smooth and exquisitely cut. Every muscle was magnificently defined and moved just below the skin as he folded the hoodie and hung it on the back of his chair. He thanked Clark as he pulled the shirt from Clark’s slack grip. Bruce slid it on and for a split second Clark wanted to stop him. His body was just too perfect to cover up. That feeling was immediately followed by more laughter. Clark’s shirt was several sizes too big on Bruce. The sleeves fell past his hands and hung well down to his thighs.

Bruce looked down and laughed a deep rich laugh. He looked ridiculous in the overlarge shirt. But the sight of Bruce in his shirt caused a swooping sensation somewhere south of his belly followed by a tingling throughout Clark’s body. He turned back around and looked pointlessly through the near empty drawer. “I’m sorry. It’s all I have here.” He said facing Bruce who was trying to push the sleeves up past his elbows and having a difficult time of it.

“It’s not a problem. Though I don’t often find clothes that are too big for me. It’s nice though. I like the color.” Bruce said appraisingly.

“Thanks.” Clark said. “Lois got it for me.”

He wished he could take back the words the moment they were out of his mouth. The smile dropped from Bruce’s face like a stone. His lips tightened and his eyes narrowed. Clark could see the shadow of the cowl upon his face.

Bruce didn’t like Lois. Sure a long time ago they had had a fling. A fling which had torn Clark up inside in more ways than he realized at the time. But it had ended. Not badly by all accounts but definitively. For a long while Bruce was cooly neutral whenever Lois’ name was raised but lately things were different. It seemed the more that he and Bruce worked or spent time together the less tolerant of Lois Bruce was becoming. Her name was enough to make Bruce leave in some circumstances. Or as it was currently, to kill all conversation immediately. He could not figure out why Bruce was openly hostile towards Lois. But right now he was not going to attempt to sleuth it out.

Bruce continued shooting daggers at Clark while he pulled the overlarge shirt off over his head. Then he dropped it on the floor and turned around and walked back to the table , finishing off what was left in his glass.

“I’ll get another bottle.” Clark said awkwardly.

He hurried around Bruce and pulled open the fridge. He pulled out another bottle. When he turned around he found Bruce leaning against the wall. One hand propped on his hip and the other slung across his stomach. “So what did you have in mind after dinner?”

“I thought maybe we could sit… and talk.” Clark wasn’t entirely sure why his words were coming out slowly and clumsily but he had a shrewd idea that it had something to do with Bruce’s half naked form. A form which was now feet away from him. He had gone over tonight time and time again in his mind. He knew what he wanted but he had no idea how to go about getting it. And now what he wanted was right there. He just had to close the few feet between them. Unfortunately his feet appeared to unable to do anything other than stand stock still.

“Are you sure that is what you had in mind?” Bruce asked, his head tilted slightly, his thumb hooking into the drawstring at his waist.

“I… I…” Clark sputtered as Bruce began walking toward him. He managed another “I… I…” before Bruce was directly in front of him. He felt the heat from Bruce’s naked torso, he heard the beating of his heart.

All at once their lips were smashed against each other. Their mouths and tongues working against one other, kissing each other ravenously. Clark felt Bruce’s hands encircle his waist, grasping his hips and his head began to spin. He closed his eyes and kissed Bruce with a passion that had been pent up and denied for far too long. A passion which had been building over countless nights. He wrapped his own massive arms around Bruce’s shoulders and the world fell away. He was floating in a sea of pure happiness.

He felt Bruce moving. A shifting and then suddenly he wasn’t floating. He was flying, backward. And then he smashed into a wall. His eyes snapped open. Bruce was standing in front of him smiling up into his bewildered face.

“What happened?” Clark asked.

“You started floating. So I kicked off the fridge which sent us flying into the wall.” Bruce said matter-of-factly, still grinning. He was leaning against Clark, pinning him against the wall.

“Oh.” Was all Clark could manage.

Bruce leaned in again and kissed Clark deeply. When he broke the kiss he looked deeply into Clark’s bliss sodden eyes. “No flying, you hear me?”

“Yes.” Clark half breathed, half moaned. He wasn’t really listening. He would agree to anything as long as it ended with Bruce’s mouth on his.

He was not expecting the stinging SLAP that followed. His eyes snapped open only to find Bruce’s smiling face once again peering up at him. “I am not like the girls you give aerial tours of the city to. I want my feet firmly on the ground, do you hear me?”

Clark swallowed and nodded.

“Good.” And Bruce was kissing him again, this time his hands found Clark’s wrists and pushed them roughly against the wall. He pressed his body against Clark's, positioning his hips in line with Clark’s. Clark felt a wonderful hardness against his stomach. While they had been only kissing Clark had been so engrossed in the ecstasy of the moment to realize what effect the moment was having on him. But the second he felt the solid mountain against his stomach he became immediately aware of his own rock solid cock.

He moved his hips and felt their shafts brush against each other, separated by 2 tiny sheets of material. Chills raced up and down the length of his penis.

Bruce’s grip on his wrist tightened. He broke the kiss but clamped hungrily on Clarks neck. Clark moaned and let his eyes flutter back in his head as Bruce bit the surprisingly tender flesh at the base of his neck. Clark began rocking his hips back and forth, rubbing the bulge in his pants against Bruce’s but Bruce shifted his hips moving his cock out of reach.

It was frustrating, maddeningly so. He wanted to feel Bruce’s body against his. He wanted to feel Bruce’s cock. Not just vaguely through their pants, but unfettered and unsheathed. He wanted to see Bruce’s cock. He wanted to touch it. To taste it.

Taste it.

The idea was heavenly. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to taste Bruce’s cock. He wanted to be on his knees before this perfect specimen of manhood. Though Bruce was holding his wrists against the wall it was no effort to reverse the grip and spin him around. He was already sliding down the length of his body when he felt the world spin and a colossal SLAM!

Though he had moved in the flash of an eye Bruce had been ready for it. When Clark had begun to spin them around Bruce had his legs up and the moment they made contact with the wall he launched off it, sending them flying across the room and sending the couch skittering away from the wall. They slammed into each other on the wall by the bathroom door. Somehow now it was Clark against the wall and Bruce was once again pinning him to it.

“I said Earth physics, farmboy!” Bruce said, only this time his voice was ragged. If Clark didn’t know better he would say Bruce was out of breath. But he knew it wasn’t from the exertion. Bruce ran 20 miles a day when he was sick. Something else was constricting his breath. Something more primitive lit his eyes so wildly. Bruce kissed Clark again, deeply searching his mouth with his tongue. He released Clark’s wrists and took hold of his shirt. In one movement buttons were flying and the remains of the shirt felt in pieces to the floor. He traced his finger over Clark’s massive chest, teasing his nipples. He watched Clarks face as he pinched his nipples and said “Now what is it you want so badly you made me repeat myself?”

Clark was choking on his own desire. “I…I want….”

Bruce’s hand ran down his stomach and fluttered across his aching cock. “What do you want?” Bruce whispered in Clark’s ear.
“You. Your….”

“My what?” Bruce growled.

Clark blushed bright red. He swallowed and said “your cock.”

Bruce bit his earlobe hard and growled. His hands grabbed Clark’s swollen dick through his pants. He squeezed hard. Clark’s nerves were so on edge that he almost sobbed in pleasure. He felt Bruce’s hand release his shaft and travel upward over his chest to his shoulders. He felt pressure on his shoulders and responded instantly by sliding to his knees.

Bruce repositioned himself against the wall looking down at the enormous man on his knees before him. Clark wanted to look up at the handsome man but all he could see was the massive bulge in the warm up pants. Clark reached forward and with shaking hands began to pull on the tiny bow on the draw string.

A second later the pants were sliding down the length of his perfectly toned legs and leaving Clark face to face with Bruce’s enormous dick. It was 8 and a half inches, thick, straight and cut. It looked like heaven to Clark. He closed his eyes and opened his mouth.

The smoothness of Bruce’s head came as a surprise to Clark. He had not known what it would feel like on his tongue but he had never expected the skin to be so smooth. He ran his tongue around and around the head, exploring the velvety softness. He sucked on Bruce’s mound which produced a loud moan. The moan was the spark Clark needed. He plunged Bruce’s cock into his mouth.

He marveled at the way his mouth wrapped around the long shaft. The way he could massage the length of meat with his tongue and lips at the same time. He bobbed his head up and down glorying in the way Bruce’s cock filled the entirety of his mouth. He plunged lower and lower, thankful he didn’t need to breathe at the moment, feeling Bruce’s dick sliding further and further down his throat.

Bruce moaned as Clark felt his fingers twining into his hair. He pulled backward on Clark’s hair, pulling him off his prick. Clark looked up and locked eyes with Bruce whose own eyes were brimming with lust. The look drove Clark wild. He kept eye contact and began to bob up and down the entire length of Bruce’s enormous dick. And he could see the excitement building each time he swallowed the entirety of his cock.

Bruce tightened his grip on Clark’s hair and for a moment Clark was afraid he would try to pull him off again but instead he felt Bruce begin to buck his hips. The long piece of meat slammed forward, down his throat. Pressure and then release as Bruce slid his cock back out. Then again and again until Bruce was fucking Clark’s mouth with wild abandon. It was an amazing feeling, being invaded and filled. He began wondering what it would feel like if Bruce came with his cock 4 inches down his throat. Instantly he wanted to feel that explosion. He wanted to choke on it. He started swallowing again and again in time with Bruce’s thrust.

And then emptiness. Bruce had pulled his cock from Clark’s hungry mouth. Clark had an impulse to leap back onto it. In reality Bruce could not hold him back, both of them knew it, but the look in Bruce’s eyes stilled him. The look said: No. Not even for a second did Clark think of disobeying.

Without a word Bruce pulled Clark up by the hair. A difficult task as Clark was significantly taller, but somehow Bruce maintained his grip with grace and poise leaving no doubt in Clark’s mind who was in charge. Bruce guided Clark a few steps away from the wall and then released his grip. He pointed to the bookcase and Clark understood. He pressed on a particular book and the frame detached from the wall. Clark guided it down but found he could not lower the bed to the floor as the couch was in the way. He pushed the couch out of the way. In his impatience he had not reigned in his considerable strength and as a result sent the couch flying through the bathroom wall. A cloud of dust and chunks of plaster splattered the room as the couch came to rest half through the wall and propped up on the toilet.

Bruce’s eyes lit up as he looked from the wreckage to Clark. “Oh, farmboy!” and then he pounced. Though he was called the Batman there was something particularly feline about the way he attacked Clark, sending him flying into the bed which Clark had dropped.

Clark was not often taken off guard so he thrilled at the way his stomach flipped over. He felt the weight of Bruce’s body crash into his. Bruce was a top him, straddling him. Clark became very aware that though Bruce was entirely naked, he still was wearing his pants. They kept him from feeling the warmth of Bruce’s balls against his own. He shifted to try to somehow extricate them but Bruce said “No!” sharply. Then he leaned over, kissed Clark deeply and said “Don’t move a muscle. Lay there and take it.”

He was sliding down, down, down. Clark watched as Bruce slowly pulled the end of his belt through his belt loops. Once free he yanked on it and the buckle gave way. In one quick, fluid motion the belt came away. Smiling the million dollar Wayne Foundation grin he fed the end back through the buckle making a loop. Though he obeyed Bruce’s command to lay still his heart raced as he watched his own hands be fed through the loop. Another yank and the belt constricted pinning his wrists to each other.

Clark felt his cock throb mightily.

Once he was satisfied the belt was secure Bruce placed Clark’s bound hands above his head and then turned his attention to Clark’s pants. Clark wanted him to rip the pants off him as he had done the shirt but instead was forced to endure the slow process while Bruce meticulously unbuttoned his jeans. Why had he decided to wear a button fly today? One by one the buttons gave way and when the last one was undone Bruce gave the waistband a yank. Out sprung Clark’s own cock like a perverted jack-in-the-box. Bruce skinned the senseless pants from Clark’s legs. Then Bruce bent over and clearly examined Clark’s cock.

Once again Clark blushed only this time as deeply crimson as his cape. He could barely stand to look at Bruce whose eyes once again had that distant, calculating quality. He looked at his own hard penis. Unlike Bruce he was uncut and he wasn’t quite as large. 7 inches to Bruce’s 8.5, thick and slightly curved at the end. His head was poking out from its shelter. Not a single hair obscured him from Bruce’s searching stare. An unfamiliar sensation of humiliation blossomed in his chest. He felt terribly exposed and it took all of his concentration to lay stock still. He stared at the ceiling.

He saw Bruce move in his peripheral. Movement and then warmth. A wonderful, heavenly feeling enveloped his cock. He felt Bruce’s mouth wrap around his head and begin to lick feverishly. Clark’s eyes slid back in his head. He had never experienced anything like this before. Each time Bruce’s tongue fell he felt waves of electricity coursing through his body.

And then it was gone. It was strange that he felt the same emptiness as when Bruce had pulled his own cock out of Clark’s mouth. Though his sadness was soon mitigated as he felt Bruce’s strong hands grasping his waist. He applied pressure and Clark found himself being flipped over. His brain was so saturated with lust that he did not understand how it had happened. All he knew was that he was now on his knees. His wrists were still bound by the belt so he way laying on his forearms, ass in the air.

He wished he could see what was happening but he could not. So he closed his eyes. He concentrated on the feeling of Bruce’s hands which were gliding over his back and ass. Everywhere they touched was like fire to his skin. He concentrated as a hand traced the circle of each ass cheek. He felt Bruce’s fingertips skimming across the crack of his ass. He felt one finger being placed at his tailbone and then run down. The moment it touched his hole Clark shuddered. Bruce held his finger over Clark’s hole. Clark moaned and shifted his weight back, against it.

SMACK!

He felt the sharp swat against his ass and then Bruce’s hands were once again in his hair pulling his head up.

“Don’t. Move.” He hissed.

Clark didn’t dare even nod. This must have been the right move as Bruce released his hair and slid back down his aching body. Only this time it wasn’t his finger which teased Clark’s hole. He felt the moist warmth of the tongue which had teased his head now exploring his hole. He nearly screamed with the overwhelming pleasure of the foreign sensation. An entirely different feeling of invasion as Clark’s tongue probed him. Clark’s cock hung free and rigid as a board. He wished his hands weren't tied as he wanted to stroke his angry dick and soothe it. The feel of Bruce’s tongue fucking his asshole was…amazing. He felt as if every nerve in his body was on fire.

Bruce pulled back. He positioned himself behind Clark’s wet ass. He pressed his head against the slick surface and said “Now relax, or you may well squeeze my dick off!” His tone was ragged and primal.

With difficulty Clark took a deep breath but before he had even released the breath he felt Bruce’s cock sliding home.

Bliss.

He felt Bruce’s cock inside of him. He felt Bruce’s hips flush against his ass. He felt Bruce’s balls slapping against his. All as if it were in slow motion. He experienced every single ecstatic second of Bruce’s cock stretching him, forcing its way deep, deep, deep inside of him. He could not contain himself and cried out. This seemed to excite Bruce who began riding his ass harder. He would pull out and then slam back into him making Clark feel every single inch of his formidable prick.

Tension was mounting. Clark’s balls were tingling and though his cock was hanging free, not even touching the bed, it was throbbing in time with Bruce’s thrusts.

“Do you like that?” Bruce’s husky voice asked.

“Yes!” Clark said, choking on his own pleasure.

Another slam of the hips.

“Louder!” Bruce commanded.

“YES!” Clark yelled.

Harder. Deeper.

“Tell me what you like.” Bruce ordered, riding Clark’s ass still harder. “Tell me what you WANT!”

“YOUR COCK! YOUR COCK!!” Clark half moaned, half screamed.

He couldn’t breathe. He could barely think. Clark was now in real danger of blowing his load. His cock, though completely without stimulation, was ready to explode. He cast his mind wide, trying to think of something, ANYTHING, that might divert some of his attention so he could remain in control of his dick but he couldn’t think of anything but the way Bruce’s cock was buried to the hilt in his ass.

“I…I’m…going…to….” Clark choked out but Bruce cut him off.

“Not yet you aren’t.” he said and once again he pulled out.

Another swirl of movement and Clark was once again lying on his back on the bed. Bruce parted Clark’s legs and hooked one knee over his shoulder. He moved up so that they were face to face. He repositioned Clark’s bound hands over his head and then kissed him deep as he slid his cock back inside of Clark.

Clark moaned against Bruce’s mouth. His cock was sandwiched between their bodies and as Bruce began thrusting his body moved up and down Clark’s shaft. It was too much.

“I….I….” he moaned but Bruce clamped a hand over his mouth.

“You will cum when I say you can, Clark.” Bruce’s words were heavy.

“Kmmmpmm..” Clark said behind his hand. Bruce moved his hand and Clark said “K…Kalel…. Call me Kalel!”

Bruce’s rhythm increased in the tempo he was pounding on his ass. He rode him viciously. Ferociously. Kalel knew that he couldn’t take it. He was going to cum. Just as he was about to open his mouth to tell Bruce, Bruce locked eyes with him and commanded “KALEL! CUM! CUM WITH ME!”

He felt Bruce erupting inside him, filling him with his seed. The feeling pushed him over the edge and his own cock exploded. His white load sprayed out between them, coating their stomachs and chest. Bruce continued to pump inside him until he was exhausted but Kalel barely felt it. He had never cum so hard in his life. His cock was so swollen and sensitive that he was almost grateful when Bruce finally had enough of his ass and pulled out.

They both fell onto the bed and laid there panting. Eventually Bruce caught his breath enough to climb over to Kalel. He placed a hand on his cheek and kissed him deeply. When the kiss finally ended he said “Kalel.” He loved the sound of his name on Bruce’s lips. His real name. His secret name. Kalel looked in his eyes and said “Bruce” and again their lips met in a tender kiss.

Bruce grabbed the sheet and wiped down his chest and stomach. A dark blossom was spreading across Bruce’s skin. He looked down at it and said “I think you bruised me!” He laughed and lay down beside Kalel and threw his arm over the larger man’s chest. Kalel scooted his body so he was being spooned. His mind raced over what had happened.

Behind him Bruce asked “Was that your first time?” he stifled a yawn. “With a man, I mean.”

Grateful that Bruce couldn’t see him or the blush he answered “Yes.” And then driven by curiosity he asked “What about you?”

Bruce yawned loudly and mumbled “No.” He shifted his arm and gave Kalel’s chest a small squeeze.

A moment passed while Kalel enjoyed the afterglow before he heard Bruce’s breath coming in the steady rhythm of sleep. Kalel smiled and closed his eyes, absolutely content.

When he woke Clark was sticky, naked, and alone. The curtains were drawn back and the morning light flooded the room. Clark raised a hand to shield his eyes and saw the door was open. He sat up and looked around. On the table was a folded piece of paper. Clark got out of bed and crossed to the table, picking up the note.

It read:
“Kalel,
Thanks. Next time, no need for the cloak and dagger.
B”

He looked out the window and smiled.

 

RIP

While driving to an event this evening I got a call. It wasn’t just a call. It was the call. The one you don’t want to get. Thankfully it wasn’t in regards to my family, nor was it in regards to my friends. A man I knew years and years ago died in a car accident. A man who has always and will always reside in my heart. We spent one year together. Soon after I learned what happened I misspoke and said it was 2 or 3 but no, it was only one. That was as long as he was in the country. One year of exploration of each other with the all consuming fury of youth. One year of asking each other every question we could think of. One year of debating our beliefs. One year’s worth of conversation. One year of him teaching me to tango. One year of hearing him sing. One year of listening to his guitar. One year of laughter. One year of his smile that always, always touched his eyes. One year of plays and dances. One year of concerts and camping. One year of hiding under the table to steal a kiss. One year of hearing my name on a Spanish tongue. One year that held enough for 2 or 3. His mother told me he still talked of me. Even after all these years he still thought of me. Though I had some difficulty understanding all that she had to say, I believe she said he still loved me. She sent me his picture. He still looks the same. Looked. His is the only card in my “What if?” deck. The world has lost a genuinely good hearted person. A generous, caring, talented man for whom the glass was always half full. A man who always saw the silver lining. Or the beauty in a girl who saw none. I will never forget his sincerity when he told me his greatest wish was that I could see myself through his eyes. I only hope that he knew how he looked through mine.

Winter Wickedness Report

A couple of weekends past I was privileged to work and attend Winter Wickedness 2013. If you have never been to one of AIS’ events then you are just plain missing out. We throw one hell of a party! Friday I am very lucky to be a member of the AIS staff. One of my responsibilities is to host and facilitate the Friday night Meet-N-Greet social and game. Every year I try to come up with something fun and fitting with the theme. This year our theme was “Fantasies and Fairytales”. I put together a version of the “What am I?” game called “Who am I? Fairytale edition”. Basically you have a card with a fairytale character taped onto your back. You then go around to folks and ask questions until you can guess who you “are”. It was a LOT of fun! But really it was just an opportunity for me to show off the costume I have been working on for a month. (Ok, so not really but it’s nice when things work out!) When I first heard the theme my mind did not turn toward Cinderella or Snow White or any of the other heroines from the Fairytales of my youth. Instead it drifted to the villains of Fairytales. I should say The Villain. For me there is only one villain. Ursula. Sure I love Maleficent. I mean she turns into a dragon for fucks sake! How cool is that? But as cool as she is Ursula was the one I dreamed about being since I was a kid. Sure she is evil and will get her way but she does it in a way that there isn’t a damn thing you can do about it! Plus she is distinctly funny (a trait Maleficent is quite deficient in). All in all, I identify with Ursula. I have wanted to make a costume for the character ever since I learned to sew. I never did because I didn’t have a reason to. Enter WW’13 when my husband told me basically to put up or shut up. So I did. With the exception of the wedding dress my grandmother made me, I have never loved any costume or clothing piece I have ever put on the way I love this costume. It turned out almost exactly as I had imagined. I had a wig crisis, followed by a temporary hair dye crisis which forced me to abandon the white hair but in the end I don’t think it mattered one jot. I looked FANTASTIC!!! This picture just doesn’t do it justice (in my not so humble opinion) but plans are already in the works for a photo shoot so I can show off the awesomeness that is my costume. New Fetlife profile pic here I come! Focus Lana! This post is about WW not your AMAZING costume! Eek! Sorry self! Friday night I did something I haven’t done since waaaaaay back at the beginning of my public scene life. I didn’t play. I was surprised that my energy bottomed out on me. Not in the bad way! It was just a combination of lack of sleep and a truly heavy costume. Those tentacles aren’t exactly heavy in and of themselves but they aren’t light either. And there are 8 of them. Between the steel boned corset and the tentacles I couldn’t sit down so I was on my feet for over 4 hours straight. It took a lot out of me. But not in any kind of bad way, like I said. In fact it turned out to be decidedly good. I sat around with some of my kinky friends and family and talked and joked and laughed and had a generally good time. Sure I could have pushed myself and scened at least a bit that night but sitting and talking with all those lovely ladies and gentlemen helped me recharge my batteries. And I have been around the scene long enough to know the first person you have to take care of is yourself. So my Friday night was completely different than I had planned but it turned out to be a wonderful experience. Speaking of different experiences my husband actually made a couple of play dates! As you probably know if you are at all familiar with me, my husband is rather shy when it comes to being out and about. Last year he made the decision that this was something he wanted to change. So he has been saying YES when I invite him to events. He has also accompanied me to the past 3 AIS conventions. However he has not played before. He was just too shy. He wouldn’t even let me set him on fire for goodness sake! However last convention he was forced a bit further out of his shell as I taught my Pedicure class and he was an active part of that, giving foot rubs to various people in the class. Unfortunately because he only believes in doing something properly he didn’t get a chance to get to everyone he would have liked to. That experience loosened him up and really made him see that he could do things he was comfortable with and still “scene”. So this WW he made a few dates (through me) to give some wonderful ladies foot rubs. And from what I gathered both he and his foot rub-ees had a really good time. Sat Sat dawned bright and early as Peach and I did our morning ritual of swimming. The water is always cold as a witch’s tit but the water helps get our joints moving and soothes aching muscles. Plus there was a FANTASTIC buffet of yummy yummy muffins to choose from on our way back to the room. Where I took a shower and fell right back to sleep. I missed the first class of the day that I had hoped to attend: Master So’N’So Kama Sutra Kink, alas, but I did wake up with enough time for me and the hubby to bust ass down to Sheryn B’s Know Better: Competent Consensual Kink. I could probably do a whole journal entry on that class. It was one of the best classes I have attended. Although class may not be the appropriate word. Discussion is better suited to the experience. The discussion centered on personal responsibility and the role it plays in consent. It was one of the few times I wish I had internet tools available in real life because I wanted to be able to say: THIS!!!!!!! AIS provided copies of The Gift of Fear by Gavin De Becker to be given out and I snatched mine up. (I have only begun to read it but so far it is absolutely astounding. I find I have to slow myself way down while reading it so I can fully digest what is on the page. But that is another post for another day.) After class I ended up in a discussion about the topic that lasted for well over another hour. I wanted to attend several other classes however my husband and I retreated to our room and….well…you know. After fulfilling our baser instincts my husband went off to dinner with the lovely Peach and co while I hosted the Queer Friendly Gathering/Meet-N-Greet. I don’t think we have ever had THAT good of a turn out! Amidst all the chatting and laughing we came up with a plan of action for some fabulous fun to come! No, I won’t tell you exactly what it is. Right now I am keeping it under my (and everyone who was there) hat. But trust that you will find out about it in due time. Mwahahaa! Sat night I was rested, relaxed and ready to hit the ground running. I got into the Warm and Wet room about an hour after opening and didn’t leave it again until it was 20 minutes till close. I didn’t do nearly as many scenes as I would have liked but those that I did were absolutely amazing! And what is more for 2 of those scenes my husband joined me! He co-Topped with me, adding a lovely new element to the sensation play I dig so much. And judging by the reactions we got my play partners enjoyed it too! Afterward when we were snuggled up in bed he tentatively asked me if I would consider letting him help me again. I could only kiss him and say YES! A thousand times yes! I loved being able to look down and see him working some of that magic he has in his hands. We know each other so well that he could read the cues I was giving him so he could follow my lead in a way that looked effortless. I was and am so proud of him for stepping outside of his comfort zone and exploring with me. I have been waiting for this day for 5 years! Sunday Sunday came too early but all good things must end. Fortunately for me it isn’t really an ending. Just hitting pause. Because I know that I will see all these wonderful people again soon and we will all bask in the fabulous energy we create together! And speaking of fabulous energy… The staff dinner was amazing! So much food! So many cuddles! Happy, Happy Lana! Many thanks to those lovely ladies who allowed me access to their gorgeous bodies! I love watching you squirm and hearing you moan and in some cases pant! I loved shooting fire balls at you and watching the fire trail across your skin! I loved the unsteady way you climbed off the table and the hugs where you melted into me! I love that my husband had to put on gloves to clean up because a couple of you left happy puddles on the table! I just love ya! Many thanks to those 2 beautiful gals who let my husband get his feet wet! He is grateful and excited by this bold step forward and will most definitely be bugging you for another chance.  Special thanks to the magnificent DreaminEyes for the amazingly generous gift! I can’t wait to wear it out! I’d say similar about the chocolate but I have already killed that! That being said….is it COPE yet? HUGS! Lana

Happy New Year!

Old man 2012 is about to rest his weary old head while mother nature is in contractions ready to bring forth the baby of 2013. Another year down. 2012 has been filled with all sorts of stresses and joys. My parents divorced this year after 33 years of marriage. Suddenly though not unexpectedly I became the rock of my family taking on the responsibilities of 3 households. It has been….stressful. But at the end of the day I am glad that the charade of marriage is over. The grievances and grudges they have been carrying all these years are released. Now if I could only get some forward movement on getting rid of their house I could release some of the stress I am carrying. 3 households is a lot to juggle and skilled as I am at keeping the balls in the air I would like to let some of them fall. I ended a long term relationship. It was very hard. I have tried many times in the past only to pussy out at the last minute or to accept her back but this year I drew the line in the sand. No more. And I am sticking to it. I feel free in a way I have not in a long, long time. Now I can look forward to entering into new relationship(s) unencumbered by bullshit drama! YAY for drama-free zones! This year was big for my daughter as well. She has been harboring a love of geology for the past several years. She can and will talk to you about the metamorphic process for hours. I find it as boring as..well…a pile of rocks but to her it is fascinating so I do everything I can to encourage it. This year for our family vacation we went to Mammoth Cave in Kentucky. It was delightful. Ok, that is a lie. It was miserable. We must have offended Thor because it rained like he had a personal vendetta against us all night every night we camped. Which meant my husband and I stayed up all night keeping the water off the roof. Everything was wet. However come morning the skies cleared and the day turned out to be beautiful (if not a bit stifling). My purpose in going camping at the cave was to do something my daughter would enjoy. What happened was that she discovered a career path. She talked to every single ranger we encountered. Every one of them was more than happy to chat about rocks and minerals to her hearts content. A couple even took her off trail. I don’t know which one it was that suggested she might want to become a Park Ranger but I would like to shake his/her hand. It lit a fire in her imagination and for the first time I saw how this obsession could become a career. And for that I am both thankful and excited. I had set a goal for myself to finish my book this year. Unfortunatly I am not going to meet that goal. I did get more than halfway through before I decided that, given the current political situation in Egypt I would have to rewrite a large portion of it. I have worked hard to make the story as accurate and believable (for the subject matter) as I possibly can and I just could not include the current state of civil unrest in my story and make it believable. So back to the board on that. However I have already started the rewrites and I am pleased that the ideas are coming fast and freely, which makes me very happy. I presented a class at a convention for the first time. It went very well and I got lots of great feedback. I was honored and delighted to be a part of it and I am hoping to have more opportunities to present in the future. But enough about the past. The future is staring me right in the face. This coming year should be another fun filled ride. I don’t believe in resolutions however I do believe in ideas. So my 2013 ideas go a little something like this: I will get back to my exercise program religiously. This every once in a while stuff is bullshit and I am over it. So back to the 2011 schedule. I can already feel my muscles thanking me.  I will work on completing my novel. Hopefully you will be getting it for Christmas next year. Fingers crossed. I WILL get out to Portland and see my favorite people in the world. I WILL! I will try to write some of my non-novel ideas down and finish up a lot of the writing projects that are half finished. I would like to start posting more to my blog. Perhaps even bring back Sunday Smut. I miss writing Smut. I will NOT go crazy from having a pre-teen daughter. I WILL NOT!!!! I will both kinky camp and family camp this summer. I will visit the inlaws and even try to have a good time. Above all I will remember that I am a beautiful, intelligent, vivacious woman. I hope you have a wonderful New Year! HUGS! Lana

Best Christmas Carol EVER!

Lots of love!

Happy Today!

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! Lots of love! Lana