Return of the Horny Lion

I knew Lion wasn’t broken. I knew he was just in a temporary slump. Mr. Weenie would be back in action soon. Lion wasn’t so sure. He’s never sure when he hits these mini doldrums. And, of course, if you continue to tell yourself you’re broken and nothing works, eventually you can convince yourself. Good thing I’m Lion’s biggest cheerleader. With me saying, “I know you can. I know you can.” he’s usually back in no time.

Lion’s back was cramping up last night. He thinks he sat funny at work. Maybe hunched over his desk for too long. I thought he’d be out of commission for another night. To my surprise, he announced he was feeling horny. Yay! I was able to edge him quite a few times. And he was definitely hard. Not just horny, but super horny. Perfect!

I didn’t want to scare the horniness away so we didn’t play. I just used my hands. I probably could have brought out the rope and tied his balls, but I didn’t want to use clothespins or Velcro. Maybe tonight. We’ll have to see how it goes.

The other day I was on Facebook and a post said, “I dare you to post the last picture you took with your phone.” I laughed. The last picture I had taken was of sunglass frames to see if Lion wanted me to order them. I could definitely share that picture. Some of the other pictures I’ve taken, not so much. I have pictures of Lion’s butt, dildos, butt plugs, etc. Not safe for Facebook consumption. At least nothing I’d be willing to share with most friends and no family. I think it was the same day, a coworker mentioned that someone she went to high school with occasionally shares pictures of whips and other toys, or makes comments about BDSM (I called it that, she didn’t). When I asked why she would share that, my coworker said she guessed her classmate was into that sort of thing. Well, duh. What I was really asking was why she would share such an intimate and potentially hazardous to her reputation thing. With former classmates and who knows who else. I must admit, part of me was jealous of the bravery. Part of me was afraid that if my coworker knew I do the same things, she would no longer want to have any more to do with me. Nothing would change with me, obviously. The change would be in her perception of me.

I suppose that’s why so many of us who practice male chastity, female led relationship, BDSM, etc. remain in the closet. Shhhh! They might find out. I wonder how many of them are in the closet too.

2 Comments

  1. Author

    We keep it to ourselves too. In my profession it would be tantamount to professional suicide to have that get out.

  2. Author

    I live near San Francisco, and a large percentage (definitely not all) of my friends are kinky, or at least kink-aware. I’m never going into politics (the presidential race? Sheesh!), and I’ve been a self-employed in-demand consultant for a couple of decades now. So over the past few years, I’ve become much less concerned about who would know what about me, partly because if they stumble across me in that context, it’s because they’re there too.

    I don’t go around advertising my proclivities, and among my non-kinky friends, I’m pretty circumspect, but if the conversation is solidly kinky, I’m not too shy about sharing my knowledge, and (depending upon the amount of alcohol involved) some of my experiences. I do realize that I’m lucky to have this freedom, though.

    And Mark is my real name…

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