On New Year's Day morning I effectively "snooze buttoned" Molly until 6:50 without getting so annoyed at her that I had to wake up before I wanted to. She'd give me a short meow (or myahr, to be truthful), reminding me that she wanted to get fed. I'd move some limb or change my position enough so that she'd RUN to the utility room and jump on the cat table in anticipation. Then I'd chuckle to myself over what a fool she was to think I was actually getting up and doze for another 5-10 minutes. I bet I did this 12 times and never came fully awake until I was damn good and ready. Victory was sweet.

Deb went off to work for a half day, and I got ready for my date/photo session with Sara. It's not too hard to convert our attic-slash-dungeon space into a photo studio. I can hang a backdrop from the St. Andrews Cross (see glossary for definition if you don't know what this is) using a spreader bar (this is a wooden bar with eyebolts on each end that you can chain, manacle, or strap someone's feet or hands to to make sure they stay spread) and some clothespins. I use an old futon cover as the backdrop. I also use this futon cover as a dropcloth when I pour wax on someone, which I don't do very frequently, so it's not all splotchy or anything.Some bolt-width swatches of cloth that I bought for a work related project at my old job make dandy additional drops for photos, but they're not as big as the futon cover. For lights, I used a simple tungsten bulb in an aluminum clamp-on shade (diffused with some transluscent plastic) and good ol' winter sunlight streaming in the window (a little strong, so I only used that for a few frames before dropping the shade back down). I used Kodak Technical Pan B/W film at EI 50, which needed three seconds to expose some frames.

EXPLICITNESS WARNING: FROM THIS POINT ON, THINGS GET RACY. PERSONAL ACQUAINTANCES AND YOUNGSTERS TURN BACK NOW.

All-in-all, I think the shoot went pretty well. Sara had fun posing. I had fun posing her. As I futzed with her hair, I told her I felt like a butch getting to play with a doll for the first time. "I'll tell you what I want you to do, and you'll do it," said I. "Yes, sir," said Sara. Ungh.

The sex inbetween shots was amazing, inspirational and relaxing. At one point I fucked her with my black leather motorcycle gloves on, one hand inside her and the other covering her mouth, all the while talking really dirty. "Just like getting fucked in an alley, isn't it?" That phrase by itself might've pushed her over the edge. I'd been hesitant about putting the gloved hand over her mouth because it stank of cigarettes, but she asked for it. I was happy to oblige.

Eventually, with the help of Denzel (the most hung denizen of my dick box), I wore her out. That really doesn't happen often. And this is the point in the afternoon where my hip sockets really got the workout.

Often I get frustrated using a strap-on because I can't find any purchase with my feet. It doesn't matter if I'm in combat boots or barefoot. I'm working to push into a set of pretty damned impressive muscles, which are working equally hard to clamp down for reasons of their own, and down the bed I start sliding. (Any guys who have a solution to this problem, feel free to send me an e-mail � [email protected].)

Yesterday I decided to just let my knees and feet slide where they wanted and use my hands on Sara's shoulders, plus my ab and thigh muscles, to just pull myself back up after each lunge. I'm sure this method would've looked completely retarded to outside observers, but it really got the job done. And Sara couldn't see my "spastic humping method of the day" from her vantage point, so my own sexual vanity wasn't really at stake. Of course, now it is, but I'm certain Sara will consider the end justifies the means.

Post-date I did some straightening up upstairs. We trashed one condom, my leather gloves, four towels, my boxers, and one bed pad. Then I continued my reading in Steven King's "On Writing," smoked a couple cigarettes and got nappy about the time Deb anticipated getting home.

Sure enough, I was under the spell of the polar fleece blanket when Deb got home with groceries.

"Honey, where are you?"

"I'm in here in the preliminary stage of napping."

"Do you feel like helping me with groceries?"

"Uhhhhhhhh, how much is there?" � thinking that if there was a whole gob, I'd haul my lazy ass off the couch and help.

silence

So I went back to sleep.

Deb got a little ticked off with me for starting a nap right when she was supposed to get home. When I woke up, Sara was sitting at our dining room table with her Handspring Visor and a cooking magazine, and Deb was nowhere to be found. "Where's Deb?" I ask. Sara tells me the long answer. Deb got bored, tried to go to Oz Pizza for a beer, they were closed, she came back here, went next door in search of entertainment, Jake was getting annoyed with Sara playing with her Visor so Sara came over to our house while Deb stayed over there to rub Jake's shoulders. Whew.

Okay, so I'll just keep reading I think. I hear a squeak from the back of the house.

"Was that the door?" I ask.

"No," says Sara. "Just one of the cats."

Sammy and Tyler come trotting through the house.

"Unless we're leaking Shih-tzus somewhere, I think it was the door," I say. Deb and Jake followed the dogs in.

And so began the rest of the fabulous day. Deb cooked the rest of a pork roast that we bought from Webvan before Xmas. The thing was as big as my head, so we cooked half and froze half. This pig was evidently not free-range or anything like it either. This pork had so much fat in it, I don't think that little piggy ever went to market, or wee wee wee all the way home, or ever moved a muscle in its life. Incredibly yummy. On the side we had collard greens with sesame seeds and Chinese mustard sauce, black-eyed peas of course, and corn pones. For dessert we polished off the rest of the homemade ice cream.

If I haven't said it lately: I love my family, and I love my life. You can see why.

Moving on - 12:11 p.m. , 2007-08-14

Where the hell have I been? - 12:10 p.m. , 2007-02-19

Holy shit! - 2:24 p.m. , 2006-01-11

Stuffing recipe - 6:17 p.m. , 2005-12-13

Good Life Update - 10:22 a.m. , 2005-11-11