Frosty the snow sub

It's not often you see snow in the late days of March but that was the case last night.

My sub and I (that has a nice ring to it!) decided after some flirty texting to meet for a quickie spanking (I'll call it a spankie) at nearly 3am. He had complained of not being able to sleep and I teased him that it was clearly because he just needed a firm hand to his bottom and suggested we meet so that I could rectify the situation.

I found a reasonable halfway point between our apartments and instructed him to meet there wearing something easily accessible (for me) and some panties. He had 25 minutes. I arrived before him and waited in the car but as the clock grew closer to our designated meeting time, he was nowhere to be found. Just as I was sure he was going to be late, two headlights pulled up behind me and out pops a figure in a skirt. It was my sub and he was right on time.

Upon closer inspection I realized he had a strange expression on his face. He looked like he had seen a ghost.

"Sorry I'm almost late, you'll never guess what happened?" He asked, his eyes growing as he spoke.

"What, what happened?" I inquired.

A hint of a smirk appeared on his face, "On my way here I got stopped by a cop."

"What?! What for?" I asked interrupting him.

"They were doing sobriety checks and I had to stop. I was so nervous, I didn't know what to do. I put my jacket over my skirt before I got to the officer," he explained.

I giggled as the image of him frantically trying to cover his exposed thighs with his jacket filled my head.

"What happened when you stopped?" I asked.

"Well the cop looked in the car at me and said, 'It's a little cold for shorts isn't it?'"

The officer had looked down at my sub's legs and assumed he was wearing shorts. This cracked me up even more. I'm convinced the cop thought he was masturbating but just didn't want to get involved in the paperwork for that at 3am. As scared as he looked, he seemed more exhilarated as we decided to park and take a walk in the woods together. Him in his skirt and sneakers, me in my sandals and tank-top.

The "woods" were no more than a small, see thru patch of trees, I remembered it differently but the area had been renovated since the last time I saw it years ago and daydreamed about spanking someone within its natural cover. It seemed to be out with the woods, in with a parking lot. And then out of nowhere, on our way to finding the perfect spot, it began to snow and didn't stop until we left.

I pointed out a tree that looked suitable and we trekked down the small hill to it.

"Lean against that tree," I commanded and pointed, indicating the large oak tree that stood before us.

He did as he was told and I lifted up his skirt to get a better feel of his ass. I like to think that I am a relatively straight woman (unless insanely drunk) but for some reason the sight of him in a skirt aroused me. I think the sheer displacement of a willing man in woman's clothing excites me. I switched between spanking his ass while it snowed on us and scratching up and down his legs with my nails and at one point thought about getting a switch from the tree to use but didn't want to break our rhythm. He let out moans that the night air caught and carried away like treasures of their own.

At one point I removed the scarf I was wearing and used it as a restraining device to tie his hands behind his back. I then pushed him lightly into the tree so that he was pressed between the tree in front and myself behind him.

I put my hands on his hips and pressed my breasts into his back and whispered, "Maybe once I get my strap-on I will bring you back out here so I can fuck you against a tree."

"Yes Miss L," were his only words before I leaned down to bite the back of his legs and butt cheeks.

He groaned in delight.

Despite the fun we were having even I couldn't help notice that the snow was falling harder and decided we should head back to our cars. I like this sub, I didn't want to lose him to hypothermia haha.

Once in my car he smiled as if I had given him a piece of his favorite candy. Behind his tousled hair he looked up at me and said sincerely, "Thank you Miss L."

I felt the familiar tingle in my pussy that I get when being particularity Dominant. 

"No, thank you," I said with a smile before we parted ways.

What Bianca wants, Bianca gets

I'm not usually superstitious but I've been waiting to announce my most recent happenings.

"...we have to squeeze a lot of frogs before we find that prince who says "Thank you, Mistress harder."

I couldn't have said it a moment sooner as I believe I have found a potential submissive. In actuality he is a switch (why was I so adamant against them in the first place?) and he has the perfect mix of what I've been looking for.

I've been telling myself that I didn't need certain things within a BDSM relationship but I'm tired of putting up a fight. I'm glad I held out for someone who is poly, has a good personality, and generally doesn't have a lot of limitations on what they are willing to try and he's a fellow writer. Did I mention he has a disarming smile and spankable bottom to boot?

Ms. Bianca

I've been holding my breath all along the way thinking that he'd turn out to be just another frog but he surprised me!

Today we met to finalize some things before beginning his "official" training. Me being me, I presented him with a few pages of self-made forms to gauge his interests on activities and interrogated him with a set of my own curious questions; I mainly wanted to see him squirm and to get into his head a little. I had ordered him to wear a tie and a pair of very skimpy pink panties to work and then to see me afterward. He was all smiles and and blushes when arrived but I immediately made him strip and get on his knees.

"I'll give you a tour," I announced as I lead him around my apartment by his tie.  This was the closest thing to a collar and leash that I had on hand but he eagerly followed.

We chatted as he filled out the papers and I kept my boot clad foot on his exposed ass. I couldn't resist spanking it with the ruler I so "conveniently" had in my hand but apologized for surprising him. Yes, I apologized, see how out of practice I am?

Before he left I introduced him to my friend Bianca. She can be a bit shy at first but once she warms up to you, she'll always give you just what you need.

I made him get on his knees and ask me proper, "May I feel Bianca please?" he asked looking up at me. 

I twirled her in my hands, feeling the cool leather. 

"Yes you may but first get on all fours," I answered.

He did as he was told and I leaned down getting closer to that perfectly round ass.

SMACK!
SMACK!
SMACK!

I worried I had smacked him too hard but he didn't react that way. Bianca gave him what he was craving and he whimpered out softly before I smacked the other cheek just as many times. Then I rubbed his ass lightly with Bianca's less intimidating side.

That's the beauty in Bianca, she has a soft side but she also has a fierce side that she's not ashamed to bring out at all the right times and tonight was the right time.

A short intermission

Don't think I've forgotten about you lovely people in the Blogsophere. I've just been taking on a few other projects. One including answering questions over at AllExperts. Be sure to check out my profile there if you have any questions about anything BDSM related that you might want to ask. It's private, free, and who knows, your question might help someone else with the same problem!

I'll be back shortly with sexy goodness!

Hardwired for hardware

I had a photography job last year that revealed to me some misconceptions that I may have previously had.

I trekked into DC to an old row house just on the outskirts of the city. A significantly older woman than I was expecting answered. When she saw me she greeted me in but also expressed that I was much younger than she thought.

After much small talk she said in a completely serious tone, "Can you just make this chastity belt look sexy?"

She was referring to the pictures I was preparing to take of her.

For an old woman, I had to give it to her, she still had amazing breasts (which I later learned were well paid for).

We'd only just begun our photo session when I saw behind her a man walk thru the room. Dressed in business attire and striding past as if he didn't see us. I never even heard him walk into the room, which could all be explained due to the fact that this was all on her computer.

"There's a man...on your computer," I said hesitantly with a nod toward her monitor.

She looked over her bare shoulder and exclaimed, "Oh! That's my Master. Don't let him see you! These pictures are a surprise for him."

She scurried to the computer after throwing a silk robe on and had me take a seat in the corner out of line of sight from the web cam. Once they were done chatting we chit-chatted a bit more.

"So...is he away on business or something?" I asked quizzically.

"Something like that," she smirked and said.

"Oh you're blushing like a school-girl...what aren't you telling me?" I goaded her.

"Well he's not away on business. He lives overseas. We communicate thru web cam," she replied. 

Fascinating. I needed to hear more.

"We've been together for 10 years now and we've never met face to face," the woman went on.

I was shocked to hear this. Ten years and they'd never once met?! This was mind-blowing to me. She said that they had talked about meeting a few years ago but that she had backed out with the jitters. Apparently he was "happily" married for half the time of their D/s relationship before his wife caught on to what was happening and filed for divorce.

In their arrangement they left their web cams running 24/7. If he didn't want want her to see anything on his end he just covered it up, but it was always on. She heard his wife and him have sex, argue, saw him fuck other women (namely his secretary) and more. She was essentially a part of their lives without being seen or heard. She on the other hand was to never turn her cam off or cover it, she wasn't allowed to sleep with other men, and she was to subject herself to his will via cam whenever he wanted. Were she to be asleep he would call her on her phone and command her to the computer. Sometimes he'd order her to clubs for play (just to have her recount her experience) or find other men online and arrange for them to have sessions on cam with her, all taking his requests on how to handle her.

"When was the last time you actually felt a man's touch...in the flesh," I asked her wide-eyed.

"Ten years, 7 months."

Wow. How could she commit herself so wholeheartedly to a man she had never met? A man who had never touched her skin? A man who was on a time difference equal to a part-time shift? I was amazed.

"When we met online, it was instant sparks. After months of talking online and on the phone when he asked me to give myself to him properly...I did so without question," she added.

And she had been doing so for over 3,000 long days. He held the key to her chastity that he had sent to her from overseas and she had not been unlocked since.

All of this was so hard for me to believe because I am a firm believer that online play is never a substitute for the real thing. I've always felt that it cheapened the experience of real time actions, that it was a gimp excuse for not being able to handle the real thing. But the woman I saw standing before me did not seem socially inept. She was well rounded, had lots of real time experience to boast about, and wasn't confused about her position with her Master, and most of all was happy with her relationship.

I was genuinely impressed.

I've been subjected to a slew of real time submissives who didn't have the integrity that she exhibited for a man who she had never even held in her arms.

I may stand corrected that web cam play isn't all bad. For some D/s couples it's a perfect mix between reality and a part of her life that doesn't need broadcasting. She is perfectly content on serving her Master in any and every way he demands. She is one of the few subs who I believe truly serves only for her Dominant's happiness.

With real time play there's gas for traveling, dinners out together, club prices, excessive equipment and accessories, time spent at events meeting people, and other unforeseen "real life" costs...it definitely adds a certain appeal to something web-exclusive. And while it's not for me, it isn't as one-dimensional as I had previously pegged it and for that, I will not turn my nose up to as I often have in the past.

My electric mist

Uninspired and a tad fed up, that's how I've been feeling lately.

Some readers have inquired to what happened to some of the subs I've mentioned last year.

sweet sub all but disappeared from the map. He had some personal issues he was attending to and I haven't really heard anything from him since.

Mr. Speedos was just a fad apparently, gone almost as fast as he arrived.

quiet sub and I haven't really been chatting as he travels often. We haven't even discussed the idea of picking up play in the future.

The Congressman hasn't tried to contact me since our last encounter. Perhaps he was frightened off.

nurse sub (bless his heart) often contacts me to meet. Our schedules and life happenings haven't been kind so we haven't seen each other in a few months.

Of the fourteen potentials I was communicating with none...yes ZERO of them worked out.

Try as I might, I am discouraged. I feel like the kid who is left out of the shenanigans because I am not "big enough" yet. I love BDSM. When I try to fight the feeling, it rears up inside of me and can't be contained. I don't want a life (right now at least) that doesn't involve BDSM in some form but my success (or lack thereof) seems too prevalent for me.

I've heard from other Dommes that:

I'm too picky
I need to look at the "bigger picture"
I should realize just because I'm young doesn't guarnetee me a young sub
I need to get over myself
and other sage "advice" I'd dare not repeat just due to the audacitiy of it.

I don't know what the problem is (subs, the location, or even myself) but I hope that I'm able to work thru it.

It's a struggle sometimes and even though some Dommes make it look easy, we have to squeeze a lot of frogs before we find that prince who says "Thank you, Mistress harder."

Innocent until proven kinky

I've often noted that many woman get away with what I deem too much, or in actuality not enough at all and men still put up with it. I know countless women who withhold sex until they get their way (usually over something trivial), only perform blowjobs on "special occasions", shutter at the mere thought of anal sex, and would be mortified to have sex with more than a night light on.

So it shouldn't surprise when I receive text like the one I did yesterday that read: "Damn, I just had the most amazing thought of watching you enjoying yourself with another man."

To me, this is a compliment. The particular gentleman who texted me has in fact watched me have sex with another man of his choosing three times. He himself is criminally good-looking but we've never done more than make-out. He's often told me how he thinks I'm a rare gem of women who actually enjoys sex. Yes, there are women out there who aren't afraid of their bodies or the sounds they make...we really are just participating to have fun.

Often times women like us get reputations or the ill-fitting labels of being "easy", "slutty" or "flirts", which to me just says "I'm insecure so I'm picking on you." But if you are a woman who enjoys sex: Do you feel the pressure I sometimes feel? The pressure of always being on? Once a guy realizes that you enjoy yourself sexually, it's almost like a contest for him to see just how much he can get out of you, how much do you really enjoy? If you turn him down then it's thrown in your face or you get goaded to react how you usually might.

It got me thinking...why do the "innocent" girls get to slack off and still get the same benefits as I do when with a guy? I haven't found that men are nicer, more sweet, more helpful, thoughtful, or any of the in between just because I like to fuck. So why even go through the extra effort?

This all brings me to my current situation: I met a guy online. I actually was getting a bit tired of the results I've gotten with my search for a sub so decided to switch gears. I placed an ad on Craigslist for another partner (since my relationship is open) but amusingly didn't get any responses...not one! I also wrote a few guys...none of them actually stated they were into open relationships, I was just putting out the net. One guy wrote me back. We began emailing, then switched over to chatting, and then web-cam. I decided early on I'd play more into the innocent stereotype than my usual sexually forward self. I by no means was lying about my personality, I just tried to stay away from sexual topics and any admissions that might give him the impression that I was a bit more naughty than average. He's military and away at the moment but will be returning in a few weeks so we've been taking this time to get to know one another before meeting.

Everything was going well...he was perfectly okay with my open relationship, he seems to have a good head on his shoulders, he's funny and most importantly he's good with communication. I was completely thrown for a loop when during our one of our nightly Q&As he mentioned that he was into "kinky" sex. I tried to brush it off but we ended up discussing it further where he said, he was curious about BDSM and the submissive side of things. I asked if he had any experience with it and he said no, just a curiousity.

A few days later I was checking my calendar and saw that there was a dungeon event coming up at a local club. I was debating on whether to go when I receive an IM from said guy telling me to check out this link...a link to the very same local BDSM club on my calendar! I didn't let him know of course but it was strange. What are the odds that I interact with a guy who has the good qualities I seek and interest in BDSM?

I don't plan on keeping this facade of innocence up for long because I do want him to know the true me and let's be honest...kinky girls have all the fun!

A voter's view

“You look gay in that suit. Do you like to suck cock Congressman?” I asked him in a low tone. 

He didn’t look “gay” in his suit, I just wanted to watch the effect it had on him and smirked as his cheeks reddened.

He sheepishly shook is head from side to side. This made me smile, seeing this powerful man literally blushing at my words. This was the third time I’d seen him but the first that we were really alone. Each time we met it was at a hotel and we started off in a Best Western and had slowly been upgrading to the Hilton we were now in. Somebody was getting smitten with this Mistress. I went to check my phone for texts as I often do when nervous but realized that I had left it in the car per his arrangement. 

This is the second Congressperson I’ve had the opportunity to lend my skills to. The other was an older gentleman, divorced, very strict on what the rules were between us. I only saw him to amuse myself. He was now trying to find a wife but had said he wanted me to meet one of his friends…to “help” him in the same way I had helped him.

I didn’t realize I was helping him. We never did anything physical in the entire 2 years we knew each other. In fact, every time we met, it felt more like a Dr. Phil session than a Miss L session but he was nice enough to take me to lunch and he was very intelligent, I never left a meeting with him without learning something new.

When he set me up with this friend of his, I had no idea it’d be another Congressman, especially not such a handsome one.  Upon our first meeting he tried to appear aggressive, decisive, and in charge. I let him speak his rules for me:

1.       1. No cameras or phones whenever we met

2.       2. No exchange of contact info

3.       3. Absolutely, no sex

When he was finished I said I had no problem but that I had rules of my own as well:

1.       1. Always refer to me as Miss

2.       2. Always be respectful (door holding, chair pulling, etc)

3.       3. Never speak without permission

He seemed to happily oblige these rules until he realized asking permission to speak would be a pain when he wanted to speak freely. I loved the limitation this put on him. I could see the frustration in his eyes but also the excitement when I said “Permission granted”.

We had a cat and mouse game of intellects the first two meetings we met up. We bantered about everything, mostly politics and I honestly told him that I’d never vote for him…ever and that his views disgusted me. He called me a hippy, I called him a fascist pig, it was the beginning of us getting to know each other.

He had found out I had a blog after the last meeting and re-read every entry I had written. I wasn’t sure whether to be flattered or worried when he called me up and said, “Can you meet today at 3pm? I just finished reading your blog.” We usually had a 24 hour notice rule, we could only meet with 24 hour notice to each other.

Upon arriving at the hotel, usually a bodyguard comes to get me and brings me to whatever room he is in, then proceeds to stand guard inside the room. It was different this time. The man in black led me to the room and then just opened the door for me and stayed outside. When I walked in, more like strutted as I was wearing a pair of my favorite black boots (hey, I wanted to look good if he was giving me a goodbye), the Congressman was standing by the bed and said “Lock the door please.”

I turned and locked the door and when I turned around he was on his knees.

“I want you to control me,” he said calmly from the ground. His eyes stared at me, almost pleading.

“Please Miss L, I want you to control me,” he now begged.

Have I mentioned how fucking sexy I think begging is?

I licked my lips slowly and placed my hand on his soft hair and shoved his head down so his eyes now faced the floor. I walked slowly around him in a circle to compose myself.

“Why?” I asked quizzically.

“Because, I need the kind of control that you can offer Miss,” he responded.

It was like he knew all the right things to say to me that day.

“Why now?” I asked sternly.

“I read your blog…and it made me…it made me want you. More than I already did. I don’t want to play tough with you, I just want you to control me. I want to give myself to you.” He said this last part with quickened breath.

I could feel his arousal seeping thru his pores.

“You look gay in that suit. Do you like to suck cock Congressman?” I asked him in a low tone.

He shook his head back and forth.

I grabbed a handful of his hair and brought him up from his knees. “Strip” I commanded.

“Everything?” he asked wide-eyed.

“Strip until I say stop,” I said to him.

A nervous look ran across his face and he began to unbuckle his belt slower than humanly possible. I took the buckle in my own hands and successfully yanked the belt from around his entire waist in one fell swoop. Mental pat on the back.

I pulled him closer by his belt loop and just as I placed my fingers on his zipper, there was a knock on the door.

“Congressman, we have to depart if you are to make your 4:30 meeting,” was said muffled but still clear enough to decipher thru the door.

I looked at him, somewhat pissed we had to wrap up what was promising to be a tantalizing session, grabbed him by the back of his neck, shoved his mouth to mine, stuck my tongue down his throat, bit his lip and then walked out the door without any words.

Once in my car, I let out a big breath of air. Fuck, that was hot. I really just wanted to say I’d kissed a Congressman…but now I can say I have one’s belt too.

Rant: Why so serious?

Recently a guy told me that he was giving up BDSM after his first experience with me because I didn’t provide him with what he deemed an enticing encounter (i.e. I wouldn’t have sex with him). Now I don’t know which is more pathetic, the fact that he so haphazardly (and falsely in my opinion) placed all his interests for the lifestyle in one and his first experience, or the fact that he had the balls to tell me I had disappointed him…as if I really gave a fuck.

When did this lifestyle become well…a “lifestyle”?

I can’t go to a party, event, meeting, or otherwise meet someone also into BDSM without one of the first three questions I am asked being, “So what’s your role?” I’m all for the nitty-gritty questions and figuring out if you’ll mesh with someone but whatever happened to a simple, “How are you?”

One of the reasons I decided to try exploring my kinkiness was because I loved the concept of open-ness, freedom to explore, and the space to actually be myself. But, it’s almost as if everyone has painted themselves into their own corners.   

Tops. 

Bottoms.

Pansexual.

Dominant. 

Submissives. 

Switches. 

Heteroflexible. 

Some people I've met are a bit stand-offish to me and when asked why they confess: We're both dominants or I'm not their type. Before any of these titles were are still people right?  I cherish getting to know individuals regardless of their respective roles. It just worries me when we focus so much on limits, protocols, and who you know as opposed to just relaxing and enjoying being with like-minded folks.

But on the other hand, as much as I lament this if you are too relaxed and push all the kinky stuff too far to the side then you’ll miss it all together. There has to be a solid middle ground. I’m still grasping this myself (as you might notice with nurse sub). I’ve been in need of kinky play so much that I feel that other side of my Mistressy attitude coming forth. It’s the side where I stop thinking so much about how caring I am to my subs and really just think of how much I want to use them for my sole pleasure with some pain mixed in, pain mostly for making me wait so long to finally have them under my heel. Oh the urges! I'm glad we don't need labels for those and can just be animalistic with our desires.

Breasts, can't live with them....or can you?

I’ve nicknamed my breasts “Thelma & Louise” (bet you can’t guess which is which!) because these girls are always getting me in trouble.

When I first started to “develop” I was big into sports and soccer was a favorite of mine. I was the short, wide-shouldered girl who played defense and was nicknamed “The Wall”. I loved soccer, it was one of the few sports I felt that my height gave me an advantage. But when T&L started making their debut I felt really self-conscious about running because of all the…er…movement that was involved.  We won one game entirely due to the fact that the boy who was the opposing team’s star player and forward couldn’t stop staring at T&L whenever he got near our goal. His Mother actually crossed the field to tell my Mother that I needed a better, less distracting bra.
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The first airplane trip I took, I was young and flying alone. A man walked over to me, to which I now describe as the wolf in those old Looney Tune cartoons with his tongue wagging and eyes bulging. I was naive (yes, there was such a time) and didn’t think much of his demeanor.

“Are the puppies okay?” he asked with a slight smirk.

I thought of my cat back home.

“What puppies?” I asked genuinely.

“The two puppies fighting under your shirt,” he replied with a perverted grin.
----------------------------------------

My first year of college I won first place in a local wet t-shirt contest that resulted in pictures being photocopied and pasted in my dorm hall.

I was a campus celebrity.
----------------------------------------

But, I went home this month to help my Mom with aftercare; she had breast reduction surgery. My Mom was “DD”, she complained of back and neck pain occasionally but apparently it was a lot worse than she let on. I’m “DDD” and haven’t had any problems as of yet. Again, I think my short/stout physique really helps with that. I never feel as if my breasts are uncomfortable, though they do get in the way at times. Know the last time I saw my feet as I walked down stairs? My sister is much larger than I am. She refuses to find out her proper size but if I had to guess I’d say she’s an “H”. My Mom wasn’t sad to see her breasts go, she jokingly said she’s too old to need them anymore but it got me thinking...

What would I do without T&L?  Being of mixed race I am a bit of a hodgepodge of ethnic parts, I definitely didn’t get what I’ve dubbed “the black girl ass”, I’ve been told I have child-birthing hips, my legs are short, my feet are wide, and my shoulders are broad. I am anything but the “typical” woman.  My breasts are my favorite assets just ahead of my lips. They’ve gotten me free drinks, funny questions, trips around the world, a boat (don’t ask), reduced college tuition, second and third glances, warnings instead of speeding tickets, special treatment…the works.

Not to mention, I fill out a mean corset!

The doctor who did my Mom’s work asked if I was next, to which I answered, “You wish you could get a glimpse of these babies!” and shimmied in his direction.

Thelma and Louise get me in trouble but I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Married without children

I use to have another blog on this site that I used primarily for meticulously detailed information on how I was training my sub at the time.

While I found it fun at the time it sort of petered out once we broke up and I haven't updated it since. I was contemplating whether or not to delete it last month when I realized I had a comment that I had never responded to. Typically I would've called it a lost cause but this person was only searching for friends within the scene and left their email address, so I responded to the year+ old comment explaining what happened.

We chatted a few days later and upon talking, the reader, a male, asked if I'd be free for dinner or drinks that night. I happily obliged as I'm always up for meeting new people and drinking seems to be a local past-time here.

He got to the bar before myself and even though we hadn't exchanged pictures, I just knew it was him. We got a table and began chatting.

"So do you have a girlfriend?," I asked him almost immediately after seating.

"Yes", he answered.

"Did you tell her you were meeting me tonight?" I asked skeptically.

"No" he responded plainly.

"Are you going to tell her?", I questioned again.

Again he replied, "No".

I tried to let the issue go as we talked about general ideals; nothing too risque.

I kept eying the ring on his finger.

Our food arrived, he asked about my blog and some of the things I've done in the lifestyle.

I kept eying the ring on his finger.

We ordered more drinks and we started talking about our sexual interests.

But I couldn't stop eying the ring on his finger.

Finally I probed again about his relationship status by explaining my open relationship situation to him.

At last he said sheepishly, "Yeah...I should tell you, I'm married."

As the words tumbled from his mouth I felt myself fighting the urge to leave.

I may be some women's worst nightmares next to their husbands but they should fear not. I am very firm in my plight against anything to do with married individuals who play, plan to play, sleep around, cheat, etc unbeknownst to their spouses. So as he sat there and lamented about how his and his wife's sexual tastes didn't mesh up, she'd never really understand, he had unmet desires, blah, blah, blah I could only feel a twinge of annoyance.

I can't feel sympathy for someone who has placed themselves in what they later deem an "undesirable situation". I can only acknowledge their stupidity and lack of ability to critically think out an arrangement such as marriage fully. It's not really a prison when you're the warden.

When I asked him, "What would you do if you found someone you connected with sexually?"

He danced around the issue before answering honestly, "In reality I'd probably do what I wanted but not tell my wife unless it evolved into an ongoing thing or turned serious."

Yes, he really said that aloud.

We wrapped it up not too long thereafter (thankfully the metallic taste from all the tongue biting was getting to me) but when I got home I still felt very dirty. I am upset that my right to make a fully infomed decision was taken away from me with his lies. If he had told me the truth; that he was married, I probably would have never met him for drinks and dinner. Period.

This shit may work for celebrities but I am not looking to be anyone's Mistress on the side (not that he asked me)...but it got me thinking of past experiences when I have been asked. I need to be full, front and center.

As if a Mistress can ever truly be happy being "the other woman". Pfft!