Why Do I Submit To Women?

Actually, as much as I would love to do so, my wife would not permit it.

Why do I submit to MW? Let me count the reasons.

All my life, as far back as I can remember, I was in control of myself. Sure, there was my mother, and my father, but much of the time I was on my own. There was no frigging babysitter, ever.

As I grew up, I took on more responsibility. I would love to go to details, but I need to remain anonymous, so I’ll skip some of the juicy but revealing situations. Nevertheless, I seldom had the luxury of relaxing, and have someone else be in charge. Later, raising a family, getting college degrees, and working to make a living, left no time or opportunity for giving up control. I am sure that MW had a hard time with me then. I apologize for that, but when one sleeps three hours a night for months, one must control closely. Missing a traffic signal could have cost me an hour’s worth of sleep.

At that time I knew that I needed to give up control from time to time, but between MW and me we could not manage that somehow. It was not until I began to relax a bit that we figured out that my giving up total control could be a good thing. Well, it has not happened to the full extent. As I pointed out many times before, “Being in charge carries a responsibility, and most people don’t want it.” Yes, some don’t mind being in charge from time to time, but screw the responsibility part! That’s a chore.

We have arrived at a compromise. She is in charge whenever she decides, and I shut up and put up. At any time I am in charge of the things that she does not want to deal with. When the dust settles, I pick it up. If she does not like my handling it, she whips my ass. It is a working arrangement. I get to deal with the wilderness around us, she gets to tell me what to do. The only thing missing is my frequent orgasms. Note that I said, missing. She is not into gratifying me often, or at any time, for that matter, unless it thrills her. This is when I could use a few slave girls, or even a spare mistress. Alas, MW would not go along with that either.

So, I still want to submit to women, and in my position, to this particular woman. It temporarily relives me of my responsibilities. It also offers memories to savor when I am under stress in real life.

Journalistic Excess

I was reading the paper after work. The headline showed, “…Officer Arrested For Domestic Violence.” As usual, the front-page article showed the facts, in this case, that the man was arrested. After that they often show some details if they have it. In this case: none. When they run out of realistic details, they show assumed context, such as “It is unclear that ... " [read that as,”we don’t know shit”] … Finally, they dig into the bowels of the crud they have accumulated on the people, organization, and ideas. Even if remotely related, they embellish that. The bottom line is that they are not reporting news that they know.

What I have just said is that the so-called reporter found out that a police officer was arrested for domestic violence. Anything else on the front-page and afterward is crud to pad the space on the pages of the paper, either unrelated, or fabricated.

You might think that I am being vindictive against this sort of reporting. You may be right. What pisses me off is when these so-called reporters report nothing that is factual. They say, “assumed”, “presumed”, “alleged” “it is unclear”, and then grab half-baked stories out of the archives that were just as badly unsubstantiated, but they are now on record [their own record, that is]. When they don’t have a story, they either make one up, or create one. Sure, they try to cover their asses to avoid libel. The problem is, in most cases, the target of their ill-reporting has deeper problems than suing a paper for libel.

This one is made up based on an arrest for which they have no detail. If they had the detail, they would have printed it. They tried to create a story when they said, “The [person] is expected to appear before the Justice of the Peace …” So where is the news in that? Has it occurred? No. Oh, yeah, it’s expected to occur. That’s news? That usually happens after an arrest, you moron!

These barracudas should be given a shovel to move some dirt to build up our southern border, and not be messing with gullible people’s minds. And, of course, the man's photograph in uniform was part of the front page article. After all, they have to be factual.

I don’t know this particular police officer. What I do know is that when we are on the job, we don’t ask, “Before I let you watch my back, you must agree that you are not an accused wife beater. Are you one, or not?”

At the least, that question, if I voiced it, would be awkward. It would also earn me some loose teeth, and a long time on my own, as in “being ostracized.” At best, the officer would leave me to my own devices, which is not good.

The bottom line is, we help one another without asking questions. We are not blind to some limitations that show up from time to time, but once we are out on the street, we live and die by the support of our peers. The time and the place are determined by the law-breaker. The rest is up to us.

Getting back to this man, I find it very disturbing to have discovered this situation. No man should be violent toward a person except in special circumstances, which this was not one. Worse even, he is a member of the elite, he should know better. I could not think of a more distasteful chore than to arrest a fellow officer for domestic violence.

I happen to know the judge who is to interview and then decide this man’s immediate future. I have met him professionally, and we also have a connection through my wife on a personal basis. If I were before him in court as an accused, I would be very much embarrassed. I would also be very much concerned about my future.

The police officer in this situation has his own problems. If he is cleared of charges, he may still carry a patina of wrongdoing that will be difficult to wear off. If he is guilty, his career in law enforcement is over. We are held to a higher standard than others. A politician may commit hideous acts and the get elected to a highly coveted political post anyway (see former Senator Kennedy). But once a law enforcement officer is accused of a crime or misbehaviour, guilty or not, there is slim chance of extricating himself from it. I have personally known several who had to give up law enforcement like that.

In no way do I condone domestic violence regardless of who is doing it to whom. If this man is guilty, the courts will determine the punishment that he deserves. I feel sorry for him and his victim. If he is innocent, I feel his pain. Guilty or innocent, he will never recover from this. It just pisses me off to see his face on the front page with the implied accusations.

I am not proposing putting limits on journalism. I am adamant, however, on professionalism in any field. Writing for the public comes with a responsibility. The so-called professionals should consider the consequences of their accusations and careless throwing of assumptions. If they are news reporters, they should stay with reporting news, not padding their gutless, useless, and careless words with assumptions and old crud, like in this case.

The Way We Perceive Reality Dominates Our Existence

Tainted Childhood

My wife’s father raised his children with strict discipline, as in “Your ass is grass, no matter what.” At least, that is what MW had conveyed to me. Her mother may have gone along with it for a reason that I should not try to guess. Nevertheless, she was not defending her children when mean old dad came home and did the discipline thing using various instruments. The discipline was based on mom’s bitching about what kids did or did not do while he was at work.

I was not privy to this situation until many years past our nuptials, and only second-hand from my wife’s stories. To say the least, MW was tainted by alpha males. She still had the hots for Hollywood macho (John Wayne) or debonair (Cary Grant) male characters, but when it came to reality, such as me, that was a different story. With me, her father’s behavior set the role, and even in my most tender moments she was on guard. I could seldom, if ever, do the right thing and expect her to just enjoy it. There was always a reservation of fear of her not being worthy, or what people will think of her reaction to pleasure, or anything. One might surmise from this that she had problems, and he would be correct.

Fast-forward some decades

Given the above does not mean that she is totally messed up. She is a perfectly functional human, wife, mother, sister, and friend to many people. It means that she has brought a lot of useless baggage with her from childhood, and we are working on divesting ourselves of it.

We are in a position such that my willingness to help and serve her has been evident, and my unwillingness to hurt her in any way should be obvious. However, that does not let me off the hook. She is still worried about life as it is. She is concerned about making sounds when we share pleasure. She seldom allows herself to just feel good and not worry about whether she had earned it. Trepidations… Then the other things …

I can say, “Something does not smell right in the refrigerator,” and she hears, “You worthless girl, your only purpose in life is to keep the refrigerator clean and uncluttered, and now see what you have done!”

She struggles with her inheritance. Her father loved and supported his children in his own peculiar way, such as photographs and bronze plated baby shoes. But he was not what I would call the best loving and supporting parent in more realistic ways. His grown children expressed their general behavior in their father’s presence as, “Try to blend into the background, and if you are seen anyway, duck.”

I am an outsider, so can’t say what is what. In the many years that I have known MW’s father I never had any problem with him. In the last several years he has been great. MW’s mother was something else. Instead of being supportive of anyone who could use help, she had been destructive. Even worse, she had been using up the good will of those few people who would help her in her old age. Passive resistance and subversion were her tools. MW realizes this, and has stated a number of times that she (MW) should be warned by us if she begins to behave like her mother. After all, she is her mother’s daughter. Well, MW has a long way to become that abusive and destructive. She is a caring, warm, creative, loving, wonderful person. She does well for our family, community, and people whom we don’t know, but value greatly, such as our soldiers serving overseas. But, we still have problems.

I think that she and I are both past the time when we could benefit from psychoanalysis. That sort of therapy, since Jung, has been known to take many years, if ever, to bear fruit. At this stage in our lives that is not a viable option. I never really thought that years of psychoanalysis was any use, but then I am not educated in psychotherapy. My approach to problem solving is (1) identify and limit the problem, (2) offer a number of potential solutions, (3) choose the most viable and appropriate under the circumstances, and (4) do it within available resource limits. Yes, I know, psychology is not that deterministic, and cannot, in general, be conducted that way. Still, the “years of therapy” approach must have the same characteristics. Without it, the therapist and the patient just wander around aimlessly, and never know if there was a real problem, or if there was, the problem has been solved. Am I by any chance describing psychotherapy in general?

So, if I have a deep-seated psychological problem, I am screwed. I am totally unwilling to spend years and thousands of dollars in therapy, but I don’t have a realistic way of fixing what is wrong. Of course, that assumes that I know exactly what is wrong and am willing to admit it. That may not be the case.

So we live with our problems that taint every hour of our existence. Because of our misconceptions we punish those who should be praised. It is a wonder why our children and our friends put up with us. Then again, everybody has problems, so maybe they understand.

I don’t want to close on a negative feeling. I have been introduced to people’s intimate problems while serving in law enforcement. The feeling I had many times was, “I don’t know how I would deal with this.” Yet, the people involved resolved most problems. Some not too well, but in general, the participants came out all right. We are resilient, and when there is love and commitment, a solution will offer itself. As long as I am still around, I will wait for one.

Half Naked Thursday Sep 09

Many bloggers repeatedly titillate us with their muscular or curvaceous bodies simply because it happens to be Thursday. Although I have posted photograpsh of some very private parts, This will be my first attempt to participate in what we call HNT.

Without further ado, Ladies and Gentlemen, I present for your enjoyment, part of the context in which my earlier explicit photographs were posted.

First my magnificent back. Please note that, as far as you can see, all the marks left by MW’s love taps have mostly disappeared. She was shocked to realize that this morning, and promised to correct the condition.

Next is my equally provoking front. The scratches that you see on my right side are not a result of rough love. I earned them while pruning a particularly thorny tree in my front yard.

See a piece of the branches here.

In the summer I usually wear slip-on shoes and short shorts when outside and around the house. You can tell by my lily white buns, whereas everything else is dark. The thorns had easy access to my skin from shoulder to toes dressed the way i am.

Actually, the real reason for my doing this HNT bit now is because, if I wait, that little pudginess around my waist will become even more embarrassing. I do work out six days a week, but still I am putting on some girth that was never there before. Some unenlightened people tell me that there are many calories in beer and wine. What do they know? I might try this again in a year if I am still around. Then we will see whether they are right. Maybe.

I suppose that I could have posted some of my earlier pictures, but that would be dishonest under the circumstances. I hope you see why I had to work fast. I did not even ask MW to take my pictures. I just set up the camera on a tripod, and took three shots on a timer. These are the best two out of three. The view of the branch was an afterthought.

Controversial Issues

As I stated in my previous post, none of the material is my opinion, but is based directly on the source. One may dismiss the source for various reasons, and I am sure that many of you will do just that. What I want to point out here is about the first comment to this prior post. In it, the commenter said, “The only thing clear is that these people are ignorantly racist.”

Let’s examine the support for this statement.

304 Million --- Population of the US in 2008
26 Million --- Number of "Black” people in the US over age 18
(Data from the U.S. Census Bureau)

I need to do some interpretation here. Of the 26M blacks, some are not of voting age, some don’t give a damn about voting, others are in jail, ex-con, etc., so let’s cut that by, say 10 percent, which brings it to about 23M. Now, if we assume that all 23M voted for Obama because he is black, it means that they voted against the other guy because the other guy is white. Now, that would be racist! So, I am sure that this was not the case, which means the number of black folks voting for Obama was less than 23M even if you add the votes gathered from cemeteries by ACORN.

Given that the popular votes for Obama were 66.8M, one must assume that those ignorantly racist whites must have also voted for him to account for the remaining 43.8M votes. So, I ask, “Where is the racism in this?”

In a recent article Maureen Dowd wrote on the incident when Rep. Joe Wilson said "You lie" during Obama’s speech. A quote from Dowd,

“Surrounded by middle-aged white guys -- a sepia snapshot of the days when such pols ran Washington like their own men's club -- Joe Wilson yelled 'You lie!' at a president who didn't. But, fair or not, what I heard was an unspoken word in the air: You lie, boy!"

The interesting part of this is, in my distillation of her words, “Wilson didn’t say the word, ‘boy’, but I heard it!” Then she goes on about racism.

Duh. Does anybody see something wrong with this?

All the photos that I published were about issues with which the hundreds of thousands of demonstrators disagree. A few years ago demonstrators objected to the war in Afghanistan and Iraq. Were they racists? Or were they objecting to an issue?

When people run out of logic, or even better, never had logic or fact behind their argument, they resort to ad hominem arguments: attack the opponent’s character instead. For example, it is now obvious, based on several polls, that Americans don’t want the destruction of the best healthcare system in the world. Yet, those who think they know what is best for us, will call us racist, for they have no real argument any more.

Two Issues

I am including a link on a controversial issue, and some direct pictures on another. Neither is an opinion: not my opinion, not a third party opinion, but come from the sources directly. The first was aired on Al Jezeera. From my source,

"It is extremely surprising that the Arab financed TV in Dubai would allow this to air. Be sure and watch this, it is so powerful I have no doubt she now has a very large price on her head. I also have no doubt it won't be on the air long. She is one impressive woman. Here is a powerful and amazing statement on Al Jezeera television. The woman is Wafa Sultan, an Arab-American psychologist from Los Angeles."

http://switch3.castup.net/cunet/gm.asp?ai=214&ar=1050wmv&ak=nul



The other is people in action. I don’t watch TV, so I don’t know how much of this was aired in the USA. Knowing the mainstream media, I doubt that you will see these, for they are not supportive of the current Congress and the administration.

Female Ejaculation

This is a favorite topic of a fetish. I am concentrating on the would be cocksucker, the one who wants to get his juices from that most wonderful female part, the place from which we all came.

I am not different. I covet all her juices regardless of the circumstances. All right, I might make some objections due to Sexually Transmitted Diseases, and such. However, if I were pushed, it would be difficult to decide. Vagina is my life’s passion. Therefore, you may see what I am trying to convey. I was borne by it; I have tried to imagine its glory during my early years before I ever saw one. I sensed and to an extent experienced its wonders through sight and scents, and on rare occasions, tactile feels later.

One might say that I have seen, smelled, tasted, and felt all that wonder. Maybe. I am not saying that I have seen it all. Maybe there is female ejaculation. Just that, there is no physiological reason or mechanism to back it up. I am sorry, but this is my report!

Female ejaculation is not like male ejaculation. The male has the physiology to support it. The female has other wonderful parts, but not this one. Whatever you may have seen or be led to believe, there is no such thing. So, please, give up your quest, and get to the reality of it: she has female parts that are even better. She does not ejaculate. She does not squirt the female equivalent of male semen. Nevertheless, when you get to experience what she does, you will no longer care.

If you still need the ejaculate proceeds, I suggest that you get together with a fully functional male, or a couple where the male has already ejaculated into the female. Nice scenario, and realistic. Whereas female ejaculation is not.

Bull

Those of us who are still alive go through continual evolution. It is a way of life.

Among other blogs I used to frequent those whose theme was cuckolding and hot wives. Those people knew how to have fun when the fun went out of their lives being just themselves.

I am also a believer of escalation. It has to do with human nature. One human cannot remain satisfied with status quo. We insist on enlarging the scenario, increasing the intensity, prolonging the duration, and taking on more challenges. You know what I mean. Yesterday you have suffered twenty strokes of the crop on your butt, tomorrow you will want twenty-four, or maybe the use of the cane. Yesterday you were happy with vanilla sex; tomorrow you will want cuckolding, threesomes, pegging, etc.

I am alive. I go through the evolution. Within my narrow experience I want escalation too. To what extent, I don’t know, since I have not reached many of my limits. There are many subjects with limits, and I am willing to try.

As for evolution, I no longer visit certain blogs that used to fascinate me. I am not suggesting that I lose interest, or that I want to end up with ultimate experiences. All I am saying is that “It has been fun, and now there are other things that draw my interest.” I still keep up with the various kinks, but not to the extent that I did before. I evolve.

The original theme of my blog was FLR. It still is, but I have extended my horizon. As of this time FLR is essential to my being, it is being practiced, but not the entire focus of my attention. I can now admit that I have other interests also. I have evolved.

This has put me into a broader perspective from which to appreciate (or not) the subjects whose authors still elaborate: FLR, cuckolding, chastity, orgasm denial, D/S, S/M, and a lot of other really fun stuff. I still like to read about them, I would love to practice some or to some extent all of them, just that they don’t drive my life. I could actually make a rational choice given extremely provocative alternatives, and end up with no regrets. Now, that is really saying something!

I have a lot more to say about this, but I need to get back to what the title of this post implies. The noun, bull, has been used in animal husbandry, in hot wives, in cuckolding, even in religion. Maybe in other contexts too, but my focus this time is limited to the use of bull in cuckolding. We all know what a bull is. It is a dumb brute of an animal with a huge penis. Which brings me to the point of this post. Some dominant and kinky females, or in the case of the fake blogs, males with fertile imagination, use or describe the use of human males for their purposes. These “human males” have only one purpose: fuck the dominant female, hence the use of the term “bull”.

As far as I can tell from the stories, the husband or male partner is either incapable or unwilling to do the service to or for her, therefore, she resorts to using a bull. Not the animal variety, but the human analogue.

I may be a bit jaundiced but even if I were inadequate in any respect to serve my wife, I would resent dealing with a bull. For my purposes, a bull is unintelligent, and needs to be controlled because of its strength and potential for destruction. So what does wifey want? Does she want a huge cock with sheer muscle behind it, or an instrument of pleasure with intelligence? Ok, I have both, but I must think of the poor schmucks who have neither, or at best, one. They have a problem. Then again, wifey has a problem when she realizes that her decision to marry the schmuck who has neither or only one of the attributes she so highly prizes is no longer adequate for her purposes. Now she wants a bull with a built in pile driver and no brain. Who is in charge there?

I may be going overboard with this, so I will back off. The only problem I have with this is the word used, “bull”. It just does not feel right. From every respect, the noun is wrong in the context. Look up the definition, and you will agree.

I could go with her wanting a “boyfriend, male friend, lover, guy-with-a-huge-cock”, whatever, but bull? A bull is an animal!

Servitude With Pain

I used to clean the Mistress bathroom once a week, but lately I have become slack about my responsibilities. But then, once in a while, MW reminds me in no uncertain terms. For the next few days I have bruises on my ass.

They have mostly faded by now. Today was my chore to clean the Mistress bathroom. That involves removing furniture, and other things that are sitting on horizontal surfaces. Then the real cleaning follows by vacuum cleaning the floor, scrubbing the toilet, sink, shower, bathtub, and the floor. You might think “So what?” Well, this bathroom is big and has lots of stuff in it to clean. That’s what. I do this in my natural state. When she shows up and decides to whip my ass, I must drop everything to accommodate her whim. When she is done, my ass hurts, and I go back to work. Somehow it seems right.

She had me in a CB2000 for some time, but I had to go out, so she removed the device. Of course, it would be silly of me to assume that I was free. She ordered me to install Kali’s teeth. This insidious but seemingly innocuous piece of plastic is more evil than the benign CBXXXX devices. Generally it hurts like hell when I sit in my car with tight pants on. After some experimentation, she no longer required me to wear it while I was on duty. We decided that if I were to end up in a hospital or under the care of medics, some judge would make an issue of my wearing such device while trying to be professional. So I no longer do that. Still, if I go out just to do our private business, the evil little plastic teeth are doing their thing. Once in a while when I just sit down behind the wheel of my truck I have to reach between my belt and my skin and adjust things. If anyone watches, he will, of course, think that I am playing with myself.

I have said before that Kali’s teeth is an evil device. The worst part is when during the night I wake to extreme pain due to the hardness of my cock pressing against the rows of sharp teeth (sometimes I wish that I could get it up to that extent on a whim when I am not sleeping). Of course, at this point further sleep is out of question. So, regardless of what time of the night it is, I get out of bed and go do something. By the time the little guy reverts to its flaccid form the pain is mostly gone, but then I can no longer hope to sleep, so I stay up.

Last evening she told me to wake her if I have this problem. I forgot, so when I got up due to the pain I stayed up for a while. I got sleepy, so I decided to go back to bed anyway. After a couple of hours of half-sleep I had another painful erection, so I woke her. She was so amused by it that she insisted on photographing it. Well, after my attention was swayed from the problem, the pain subsided, and so did the erection. But she managed to catch it in mid-flaccidity.

I usually experience a problem after long-term wearing of any chastity device so far. It results in swollen foreskin condition.

MW is kind enough to have me remove all devices with the exception of the PA ring, of course. You can see the impression the Kali’s teeth make. What is not obvious is that after the swelling goes away, there will be a pattern of pinprick like punctures encircling the little guy, each prick marking the place of one of Kali’s teeth.

It takes the little guy a couple of days or so to return to normal. The tiny punctures are healed, and then the fun begins again.

Supermodels

I have not been watching television for a while because of the shallowness of the already shallow crud they produce. I read a lot in various sources, but Hollywood, fashion, gossip, etc., I don’t frequent. So, I don’t know whether the term, “Supermodel” is still extant. Nevertheless, back then, I was irritated with it enough to turn off or toss whatever medium was promoting it in my face.

I used to admire the women who did fashion modeling some years before that. They were supposed to be extraordinarily beautiful so that women of our lives would have a model to covet and to mimic. Alas, these models have become corrupted over the years. When a so-called supermodel consists of skin and bone with no redeeming qualities otherwise, I draw the line.

I love women without qualification. Yes, there are bad women, but that’s not what I am relating here. I am talking about the charming qualities of women in general. In my own words, “I am versatile” when it comes to the appreciation of women. Tall or short, wide or thin, homely or beautiful, young or old, they all have charms that grab me by my private parts. I could hardly refuse any woman anything. Well, there are exceptions. For example, if she were not clean, I would try to stay away regardless of her distant charm. Other than that, anything goes.

The problem I have is with the assumed charm of females who look like victims of the concentration camps of the Nazi regime during world was two. The real victims were not subject of sexual or fashionable epitome of female charm. Neither are these deluded supermodels that starve themselves to look attractive. It does not work. I know that there are those who covet the skin and bones look. They are welcome to it, but generally they are in a minority.

Women should look the way they feel natural. Thin is OK, if they feel thin; voluptuous is fine if they feel voluptuous. Between the two is great also. In my often-quoted words, “It’s not what you have, but what you do with it.”

So, trying to be a stick figure of the average supermodel may do you harm in more ways that one. Please, dear women, just be yourselves. I so much appreciate that.

I Know You Are, But What Am I?

A lovely lady said on her blog the following: “It seems to me that our society places too much emphasis on both gender identity and sexual orientation.” I don’t want to explain the context, you can see it at Labels ... etc. Aug 30, 09

I usually don’t make excuses for the powers that be, for I am just as much a victim of my ineptitude as any other. Still, I want to point out some sober things. Our western society relies on stability. That is why laws have been made and enforced since Hammurabi (non-western, 1750 BC or so), so that we have a basis from which to decide.

Much of today’s basic laws are based on ascension. The decision way back then may have been arbitrary, but it was a way to ensure property and rights. It was sort of like, “the first born male shall inherit … and everyone else shall pick up what’s left, if any”. Ok, so it was based on the male having all that, and I am not debating its veracity. However, it provided stability throughout the centuries of civilization.

Today it is different, at least in the USA. There is no law that makes a first borne male automatically the inheritor and in charge. In spite of that, it is still customary for a woman to take on the man’s surname upon marriage. But the gender specification does not stop there. Say, I married my wife as a man, and she a woman. Later on I decide that I want to become a woman. She and I work out the details, and if she still has any use for me, she may stay with me and see the process to completion. But that’s just between her and me. I would have to deal with the at least some of the following:

• Health and life insurance companies with whom I deal
  
• Banks and investment firms with which I deal
• Social Security Administration (in the USA)
• Federal Bureau of Investigation (in the USA)
• Local, county, and state police
• Relatives and acquaintances who expect a male but not someone on the fringe
• Etc.
  

I don’t think that I would have to justify my gender change to all of those agencies, just that changing from George to Georgina would, at the least, confuse people to my economic decrement at the least. For example, if I were to be arrested for criminal speeding in an automobile, would I be booked as a male or as a female? Would I care at the time? Would I care afterward? Would I sue the police for incarcerating me with the wrong gender?

Then there is the matter of gender identification. For example, in a commercial health club, they have the men’s and the women’s dressing rooms and manner of expected apparel. Which would I choose? Personally, I have no problem sharing dressing room with the opposite gender. I try not to ogle, and keep my eyes to my space. Actually, I don’t walk around naked even in the men’s dressing room, since there is no requirement to do so. Some guys do, and I assume that some girls do also. But still, the time comes when in my gender change I begin to appear more feminine than masculine, so someone must decide. One side or the other is going to complain, and then the friggin' lawyers get into the act.

This, I think, is why there is “ … emphasis on both gender identity and sexual orientation,” as such. Things, even people, need to be sorted so that we can deal with them. There will always be the oddballs who get grief from all sides. Life is not fair, so we do the best we can under the circumstances.

If I were to open a business such as a health club, I would prefer to minize my expense and provide one dressing room for all. Even if 98 percent of the customers were to agree with that (not that they would), some 2 percent would sue me for not having a place to hide their genitalia from the opposite sex. So, I would have to provide equal access to privacy based on male versus female assessment. It’s not necessarily my preference, it’s not necessarily the law, but it is dictated by edict from the law that assures that even minorities get their say. Then there are the friggin’ lawyers who want to make a living from fomenting discontent among the malcontent and the avaricious. We can never fully satisfy the greedy.

Most of what I said above is irrelevant when one’s gender identification, or sexual preference is between consenting adults. That is where one can let it all hang out. I have seen photographs of transgendered males, transsexual males, and transvestites. Just as in real life, some can be considered beautiful, some passing, and some ugly as sin. Whatever they do with it is their own affair. This is where I would not try to cite a law that says, “a man is not allowed to dress like a woman” or such. Who gives a damn if some poor old sexually starved schmuck decides to put on a short skirt and a tank top? Or who gives a damn if I were to have sex with my neighbor’s husband as long as all agreed to it? A threesome or a foursome may even be better. Whether all are females, males, or a mix, who cares?

The bottom line is, for my purposes, gender identity is for first-line approach and identification. After that, we really don’t care unless we want to get into bed with them. Then we try to sort it out on a personal basis regardless of lawful description or distinction.

Did I Say That I Like Sex?

I am not sure that you can tell by my postings, but I do like sex. I also love sex. Not that I am a sex machine, but I could go on like the Energizer Bunny. Even when I don’t feel horny, I could and would produce for my partner whatever is desired. Within reason, of course. For example, I do have some thoughts of being penetrated from behind and …

Well, I don’t want to get into that just yet, if ever. The thing is, there are many benign sexual scenarios that I have not experienced, such as threesomes, and so on. I would love to be given the opportunity. I would also go with a lot of D/S give and take from all directions.

Women could do just about anything to me that would not cause major bleeding, and the police to haul us off to rehabilitation via “Bruno the Steel” or “Helga the Horns”. In the most hidden parts of my kinky brain I can see that men could also do things to me, but with limitations as described above. I don’t really want to be hurt, but I don’t mind feeling the pain. I don’t really want to be used, but I don’t mind serving. I don’t want to volunteer, but I would love to be forced.

Of course, none the above is likely. I am not in that lifestyle, and my wife would never forgive me if I tried. So all I can do is read and write about it. Both are fun, neither are productive, but if I have a few hours to relax, that’s what I do. My ultimate sex is orgasm for me or for my partner in sex, or both. I have no limits on the condition or the number as long as it is what at least one of us wants and the other approves. At that point anything goes.

Maybe in my next life …

By the way, at the beginning of my blog I stated that everything I write that represents MW or me or the two of us is true. On rare occasions I presented fiction, but I stated clearly that it was fiction and strictly for entertainment.

Of course, I also do a lot of pontification, which is in a different category from actual events and fiction. It is based on my experiences, my education, my values, and my feelings. As such, it is neither right, nor wrong, but simply an opinion. A few months ago I toyed with the idea of doing no more postings, deleting the blog, or changing the theme. I realized then that I have a need to write. I decided that I would reduce my emphasis on the daily FLR situation, and include other topics to broaden the venue while not completely breaking with FLR. The ratio of these different ideas changes as my mood or needs change.