A warning to personal friends of Sara and me: this is probably going to get into TMI territory. Proceed at your own risk, and for god's sake, don't mention anything to Sara that you read here today because she'll be mortified. See, I got permission to write about something that I haven't been allowed to mention before. And I don't intend to gloss over stuff this time because I really want to be able to remember this weekend for years to come.

I ran some errands around town on Saturday afternoon, picking up the latest Strangers In Paradise, tobacco, a new halogen bulb for a bedroom lamp (which still didn't work), and some groceries. I visited Deb at the wine store then made my way home where I dedicated the rest of the afternoon to "resting up". I thought about mowing the lawns and decided I'd rather save my arm strength for something else.

Deb and I decided to shower together when she got home from work. We were standing in the bathroom, embracing, both of us completely naked, when we heard Sara come in the back door. The bathroom has a window into the utility room (an addition to the house) where the back door is, so I opened up the curtains, causing Sara to do a major double-take. "Whoa. That's a picture." She mentioned that the boys she'd been teasing online all day just wished they could walk into their neighbor's house and see something like that. She got the platter she'd come over to borrow and left, locking the door for us.

The steak and potato salad that Sara made for dinner was really good. We ended up watching "The Wedding Singer" and hanging out together until about 9:30 p.m. when Sara started making grumbling noises that Deb and Jake needed to get the hell out so that the sleepover could commence. They got all the stuff Jake would need for the night and the next morning and skeedaddled off to a friend's birthday party.

The next thing I knew, Sara was in her PJs, waiting for me in bed. The plan for the evening was that I would be Julian, large and in charge.

I had strapped on already and slipped into bed with her. As Julian, I told her that I had needed to see her because of a dream I'd had. I told her about the dream, which, in reality had come to me, Badsnake, earlier in the day when I was daydreaming about what we would do that night.

In the dream Julian was fucking Eleanor. He was on top, inside her, holding himself up with his arms, his legs stretched out like a push-up stance. Eleanor held her hands up between them, her palms together, fingertips pointing to his chest. Then, in one swift move, she thrust her hands into his chest, caught his heart between them, and pushed through the other side. For a moment she holds his beating heart, the arteries still attached, his blood running down her forearms and off her elbows. Then she draws her knees up between them, plants her feet on his chest to either side of the hole she's created, and pushes hard, bringing his heart back through his chest cavity and ripping it out as his body is flung across the room.

Sounds like a Laurell K. Hamilton scene doesn't it?

So the scene revolved around vulnerability. Julian's realization that he is more vulnerable now than he ever has been since he gained his freedom because he cares for her. He's tied to her. He can't just walk away if he feels like it.

I don't remember a lot of what we talked about. I was very very deep into headspace myself. Eleanor, declaring her submission, offered up whatever he wanted to prove that she was not a threat to him.

I bound her feet and wrists and tied those together. She was on her back, arms and legs in the air. I draped her bound ankles across my left shoulder and sank my cock deep inside. I drew my knife from its sheath and traced a line from behind her knee, down her thigh, across her hip and up, over her abdomen and around her breast. I placed the knife down on the window sill, in reach, but out of the way, and thrust inside her ten or twelve times, until I could feel her start the ascent toward a climax. Then I'd stop. Pick up the blade again. Draw another line on her skin. I did that several times before setting down the blade and fucking her hard and steady until she came.

I remember fucking her with my hand as well, bringing on huge soaking orgasms, her whole body racked with the tension and release, her face red with exertion, her wrists and ankles still tied. And at some point during all that, I put my mouth to her throat and left a big, obvious mark.

To be continued ...

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