Go on, I’ll wait.

.

.

.

Damn, she’s quite a writer, isn’t she?  Wow.  And she’s mine, mine, mine, MINE.  I can’t wait to show her my sincere appreciation when I see her in 72 days.

…

I’ll see y’all in a bit when I finish my cold shower.  Safety first, you know.

In the face of all of this, I was reduced to absolute self-involvedness, which, like absolute zero, kills on sight.  Poor Casey had no sooner told me that she wasn’t feeling well than a torrent of worries, deadlines, responsibilities and debts poured out of my fingers and into the IM window.  Faced with an uncooperative (to say the least) body and a girlfriend close to tears, she mustered the strength to do the only thing that could work in such a hopeless situation -

she told me a dirty story.

Not just any story – this was a hard seduction woven around a fantasy I had imagined earlier in the day -  I’m alone in the shower at the local pool when a handsome, dark stranger walks up behind me and takes advantage of my warm, wet, naked body.  Line by line, each of us adding layers of color, we wrote a very sexy distraction for ourselves.  There were pauses, of course, to tend to weasels and pets and household emergencies – this is suburban married porn, after all – but it was sexy and playful and loving and just what I needed to pull myself out of the pit of despair and self-pity I had thrown myself into.

Casey then dragged her poor virus-laden body to the couch in an attempt to entertain Bunny without moving too much in any direction, and I’m sitting here feeling very lucky (and a teensy bit guilty for letting her pour so much energy into me.)  Yet again, Casey’s my hero…this time for loving me enough to throw herself on the smut grenade.

And that makes me a very lucky girl person Roxy.

Hands on hips, tongues together, skin under his shirt, the heat against my thigh, growl from his belly, slamming the wall

That’s 24 hours

Fingers entwined, lips to neck, breathing, panting, nails down back, thigh up hard and to the point

or 1440 minutes

Pressing hard, marks in the plaster on the walls, screaming, sliding down to the cold hard floor, no space between us

or even 86400 seconds

mere moments until my heart touches his

By now you must have realized that I’m one seriously twisted fuck, so, for the love of all that is good and right with the world, please stop reading me now.  Go read a book, go surf the net – hell, go surf for real cuz it’s fucking awesome, but please, just go find something, anything else to do, cuz you’ve gotta stop reading this blog.  There’s nothing here for you, just the poorly-written ramblings of a pathetic cheating loser, unapologetic to a fault.

Take, for instance, my complete inability to settle on one easy-to-define fucking identity.  When I started writing years ago, I was an “i” and I wrote straight submissive shit about what my nasty bio-Boy Master wanted to do to me, and now that I’ve met the genderqueer man of my dreams I’m pretty much exclusively dominant and gay.  Really, WTF?  I mean, I can’t even work out my fucking orientation, so how the hell am I gonna say anything useful about the world around me?

And that fucking poly shit I keep talking about?  What sort of smoke and fucking mirrors ball of bullcrap is that?  Everyone knows that poly is just another word for “I don’t give a fuck about what anyone else wants and so I’m gonna sleep with everyone” because there’s no way in hell a group of adults could be mature enough to come up with some new fucking paradigm for how to live together.   I mean, really, whom am I fucking kidding?   Like Kyle and his wife and I could get along really well and actually have feelings for one another and wish the best for each other…it’s laughable, really, when you think about it.

And that stuff Kyle and I spew out on Twitter and then repost here?  Not only do I think it’s really fucking hot, but it doesn’t even come close to scratching the surface of my deepest, most disgustingly nasty desires.  Sometimes I wanna do things to Kyle that don’t even have names yet – and you know I’ve looked, cuz I’m just that fucked up.   Sometimes I even have to resort to pictures to try to show him what I wanna do, and sometimes I just have to show him in person and hope to god he’s as twisted as I am and won’t make me stop before I’ve gotten at least one of us off.  And I’m arrogant enough to think that somewhere out there there’s someone as fucked up and twisted as I am who wants to read every nasty word of it.  Yeah, I said it.  I think that putting it here will fucking help someone.

Clearly, I’m beyond help.  There’s nothing you can say to save me – quick, run and save yourself while you still know right from wrong.

That guy I fell in love with?  The one who doesn’t look anything like (insert your favorite heartthrob here because I really couldn’t give a fuck about what’s popular on tv this season)?  The one who kinda looks like a girl but kinda looks like a boy and I keep talking about his dick, but you’re pretty sure he doesn’t have one?  I happen to think he’s the best-looking piece of ass on the planet, and I wouldn’t trade him for the world.  Believe it or not, I’m not in some sort of chemically-induced, fucked-up denial, I actually think he’s the hottest thing ever, and, yeah, I’m gonna keep on posting naked pictures of him here cuz he’s just so damn awesome.  So, yeah, I’m thinking that so much barefaced raw adoration is probably gonna just burn right though your eyes into your skull, tearing a cock-sized hole in your decency, so you’d better go find another place to troll.

Cuz you know that, no matter how much I love humanity, and I do, if anyone so much as breathes wrong in his direction, I’ll be off again like some stupid-ass pit bull, spouting vile insults that I’ll eventually regret.  Not cuz he needs it, but because I can’t help myself, and you know I’m never gonna fucking learn because I’m too fucking arrogant to know how to keep my mouth shut and sit quietly on the side like those other nice girls.  And you don’t wanna keep reading, hoping I’ll change, because I’m telling you now that there’s no hope for me.

I can see that you and me, we’re not ever gonna see eye-to-eye.  So I’ll do you a favor and admit I’m a lost cause, a fucker who’ll never learn.  And you can go spend your time somewhere where you can spread your words of wisdom and they won’t just whither in the sand.

Cuz I’m just fucked-up enough to keep on writing my sad-assed posts like anybody gives a shit and your comments are just egging me on, so it’d be best for you to just turn away from me and my sad, pathetic rants

and leave me the fuck alone.

Hugs and kisses,

Roxy

Without further ado, welcome to Friday on Twitter and the Twitter Smut Theater Players..

***

sroxy: Mmmm…where’s my boy this morning?

ButchtasticKyle: Sir! right here

sroxy: Good morning, love. Ready to play?

ButchtasticKyle: mmm yesSir… I’d love to play with you

sroxy: On your knees, boy.

ButchtasticKyle: **dropping to my knees, gazing up at you with great love and pride

sroxy: *Smiling down at you while I place my collar around your neck* Mmmm…my handsome boy.

ButchtasticKyle: *dropping my eyes* thank you, Sir

sroxy: *Bending down to kiss your forehead, then straightening up to run the tip of my boot along your thigh*

I can see you’re excited to play, boy. *Grinning*

ButchtasticKyle: *blushing* yes, Sir, I am.. you excite me, Sir.. a lot

sroxy: Good. *Attaching the chain metal leash to the collar and wrapping it around my fist to hold it tight* Kiss my boot, boy.

ButchtasticKyle: **enjoying the way the collar pulls on my neck.. shivering at the feeling of power You’re exuding.. leaning down to kiss your boot

thank you, Sir

sroxy: *Yanking up hard on the leash to make it hard for you to reach* Kiss it, boy, show Me you want it. *Evil grin*

ButchtasticKyle: **growling a bit, pulling down hard against the collar .. stretching and straining… trying to get my lips back on your boot

sroxy: What’s wrong, kyle? Having trouble? Should I make it…easier for you?

ButchtasticKyle: no, Sir, this is fine *said through gritted teeth, with a barely controlled growl behind it.. you’re pushing me into that corner

**and even if I knwo you’re trying to provoke me, I can’t help myself.. I pull harder against your grip… getting closer.. *

sroxy: *Easing up a little so you can reach* Kiss it real good, boy, you know I love the way you use your tongue

ButchtasticKyle: thank you, Sir.. *I murmer against the smooth leather of your boot.. kissing and tonguing one then the other, lavishly..

**wanting so badly for You to be pleased, proud of me

sroxy: Mmmmm…*loving the feel of your cheek, your lips, your tongue against the leather of my boot*

That’s enough now, boy. *Yanking up* Sit up so I can take a good look at you…

ButchtasticKyle: *ooff** **pulled out of my reverie, I’m a bit dazed, but straighten up quickly, chin up, eyes down, body straight, shoulders back

sroxy: *Picking up my crop, I run it along your thigh and up your belly, letting it slide slowly up along your chest to your neck

…and then slapping your left cheek sharply*

ButchtasticKyle: Ahhh!!! ** you catch me by surprise & the sharp pain pulls me out of my meditative sub space & into the present.. eyes glaring a bit

**sucking in breath.. working hard to hold myself still** Thank you, Sir!

sroxy: Mmmm, I hearing you growl, boy *sliding the tip of the crop down your body to whack your inner thighs*

Good boy *Pressing the crop roughly between your lips and enjoying how slick you are*

Is your pussycock ready for a little kiss, Kyle?

ButchtasticKyle: **shuddering.. Your crop stroking my cock, making me hard… my hips flexing subtly forward * yes, Sir, please Sir

sroxy: Lean back and spread those thighs, boy. This is gonna hurt you way more than it hurts me.

ButchtasticKyle: **growling as I follow your orders.. knowing what’s coming and shivering in delicious anticipation.. damn, she’s good* Yes, SIR!

sroxy: *Thoroughly enjoying the conflict in your eyes, I pull the crop back and pause* Tell me what you want, kyle.

ButchtasticKyle: *ohdamn, She’s going to make me beg for it.. and I do want it.. god, I want it badly.. the sting, the pain, the rush.. **

*taking a deep breath* Sir, please beat my pussycock, Sir! please, I need it.. i need it from You, Sir!

sroxy: *Grinning wickedly while I let the crop press up against you gently* Oh, I don’t know…I don’t wanna hurt you…

ButchtasticKyle: *ohgoddamn.. no.. not that.. dammit*** Sir.. pleeeeease.. i need it, please beat me Sir.. **growling from my belly, i want it so bad

sroxy: *Without warning, I pull back and strike you hard, then whack you again twice.* Tell me you want more, boy.

ButchtasticKyle: mmfffff…ggggggrrrrrr…. ** sharp pain followed by a flood of pleasure… i feel the heat spreading across my body

Sir, please.. more.. harder!! GRRRRRR

sroxy: Harder, hmm? *Walking behind you to grab your hair in my fist and pull your head back to look up at me* Count to three, boy

ButchtasticKyle: yes, Sir… one… two.. threee

sroxy: *Striking with all my strength from behind you* WHACK!

ButchtasticKyle: OHHHHH FUCKKKK.. GODDDAMN.. ** breathing hard, struggling not to move away from you.. fuck fuck fuck that fucking hurts **

**gritted teeth** thankkk youuuu, SIR!!

sroxy: Maintain, boy. *Gripping your hair harder, bringing you back to me* Count it again.

ButchtasticKyle: **breathing hard, centering* yes, Sir, thank you, Sir .. One.. Two… Three…. **come on, maintain.. hold still…**

sroxy: WHACK! *Pressing the tip of my boot up against your crack while I pull even harder on your hair* Another one, boy?

ButchtasticKyle: **whimpering a little through my closed mouth.. waiting for the pleasure to surge through my body again** ahhhh, yes, Sir.. more…

please Sir, may I have another?

sroxy: *Pressing in harder, enjoying the way your ass pushes back in response* Yes, my beautiful boy, you may. WHACK! WHACK!

ButchtasticKyle: **wanting to hump on her boot, body yelping in pain, but surging with pleasure.. dripping onto the floor** Yes, Sir.. thank you, Sir!

sroxy: *Releasing my grip on your hair, I place my foot on your back and push you to the floor* Kiss the ground, boy, and… make sure you spread nice and wide for your Sir

ButchtasticKyle: **groaning in anticipation, some fear, I place my chest and lips on the flloor.. pushing my knees wide for You*

sroxy: *Kicking your thighs even further apart, I place the toe of my boot on your back, right above your crack* Beg me, boy.

ButchtasticKyle: *god.. the moment I love/hate so much, when i have to decide how much I want it vs. how proud I am*

*deep breath, closing my eyes against the floor* Sir.. argggg.. god, i want it Sir, anything from you, please Sir.. i need it bad!

sroxy: *Mmmm…the moment I love so much, when I get to watch you struggle with pain vs. pride*

*Pressing my spiked heel in a half an inch between your asscheeks* Does this feel good, boy? You want more?

ButchtasticKyle: hunnnhhhhhh…. ohgodd… **i can feel it, just there, ready to be pushed into me.. will it hurt terribly? do I care? *

**my body overriding my mind.. i need to get off.. I’m going to burn up otherwise** Please Sir, yes, it feels good, please Sir

I need to come, Sir, please, I’ll be a good boy, i’ll be your good boy and do anything you ask.. please fuck me Sir, pleeeeease!

sroxy: Mmmm, yes, I know you will, boy. *Pressing the tip of my heel in slowly, watching your back shudder and arch

ButchtasticKyle: ahhhhggggggggggmmmmmmmm…. **feeling the rough edges scrape along until you’re all the way in and I’m pushing back against you

Sir.. thank you, Sir….. mmmmmgggggggggg

sroxy: *Holding fast as you try to pull me in farther* Tell me, boy – who’s my dirty little ass slut?

ButchtasticKyle: mmmm I am Sir, i’m your dirty boy *trying to press back further, fuck myself on your boot** i’m your dirty slut boy, Sir

**the world has shrunk down to this moment, and the connection between us, boot heel into my ass.. your words into my mind**

sroxy: Mmmm, good boy *Pulling up on the leash again so I can admire the way your back arches desperately for me*

*Then, when I know I’ve got your full attention, I start to slowly slide the boot heel in to the hilt*

ButchtasticKyle: ohhhhgoddddd…. **breathing and wincing through the initial pain.. but damn, it feels so good to be filled up**

pushing back against you.. not caring about anything anymore.. wanna get off.. wanna get fucked.. ** grrrrr..

Sir, please! may I fuck your boot, Sir!

sroxy: *Feeling you writhe and beg under me* Yes, boy, fuck my boot like a good little slut

ButchtasticKyle: ohgodyesthank you Sir! * my whole existence has become the desperate pursuit of this orgasms.. impaled on Her boot.. *

*pushing against your boot hard & fast.. the boot an agent of Your love.. weirdly intimate even though it’s not your flesh inside me

sroxy: *Loving the look of your ass impaling itself on my boot, and pressing down to force your belly against the cold floor…*

ButchtasticKyle: **with my belly on the floor, it’s almost impossible to press back up against your boot.. but I try and that’s when I realize …

** my pussycock is rubbin quite nicely against that cold, wet floor now.. mmmmmmm.. my ass filled and my cock getting rubbed**

mmmmm Sir.. yesssssSir.. mmmmggggg…. grrrrrrr.. **feeling the build up* Sir.. please, may I come Sir?

sroxy: *Watching your reaction as your cock rubs the floor, and starting to pump into you harder* No, boy. Control yourself.

*Starting to play with myself, stuffing the fingers of my free hand inside my hot wet pussy*

ButchtasticKyle: **groaning loudly in frustration** yes, Sir.. ** trying desperately to think of something that doesn’t turn me on.. coming up blank

but Sir.. it feels so good, please.. let me come for you.. please.. Sir.. i’ll make you proud Sir.. please, let me come!

sroxy: Do you know what I’m doing with my fingers, kyle?

ButchtasticKyle: *groaning and growling* I can imagine Sir.. are you playing with your wet pussy Sir? **straining to hear the wet sounds

sroxy: Yes, boy. Do you want to taste me?

ButchtasticKyle: Sir?! of course, yes.. god yes, I want to taste you Sir! please let me taste you, Sir

sroxy: How much do you want it, boy?

ButchtasticKyle: **my head is suddenly doing sadism calculations.. how bad is this gonna be? pretty bad I bet* Sir, I want it very badly..

*sighing* Sir? what would you have me do for a taste of Your sweet pussy?

sroxy: Good boy. Stop fucking my boot and turn around and I’ll let you kiss my pussy.

ButchtasticKyle: *groaning, I knew it!* yes, Sir.. *pulling off your boot with a painful yelp, I get up and turn around, facing you on my knees*

*I look up at you, my beautiful, cruel Sir.. eyebrows raised, the question in my eyes*

sroxy: Oh, my beautiful, wonderful, very good boy *straddling your face, I press my lips against yours*

ButchtasticKyle: mmmmmm *pushing against You with my tongue, licking slowly at first… then concentrating on your clit, looping around it*

sroxy: Yes, my lovely boy, you may. *Closing my eyes with a sigh, knowing how good your tongue will feel*

ButchtasticKyle: mmfffffffmmmmm *not much breathing room, but I always find a way… scraping your lips with my teeth, gently sucking your clit..

sroxy: *Shuddering at your touch, I press down harder against you, squeezing tight with my thighs*

*Shaking harder now, I’m afraid I’ll lose my balance, so I push you back briefly to get down onto the floor with you*

*I kiss you hard and deep, tasting myself on your lips, and then pull you onto me as I lie back*

ButchtasticKyle: oh.. Sir.. my love.. **settling myself between your thighs, I reach my arms around your shoulders, pulling you close for a deep kiss

**I know you can feel my true cock sliding into you.. i see your eyes roll back, feel your thighs tighten around my hips…

sroxy: *I feel you slide into me and my back arches to take more…* Oh, my boy, my love…ohhhhhh

ButchtasticKyle: mmmm sweet sweet Sir.. you feel so good, holding me tight ** I begin to fuck you, letting my lips travel over your skin

sroxy: Oh..yes, my love..*Wrapping my harms tightly around your shoulders and burying in my face in your neck, kissing & sucking*

*Wrapped inside and around you, I feel a rush starting to build as I grind my hips into yours*

ButchtasticKyle: **letting myself go, lost in you.. giving you everything I have, my mission, Your pleasure

*my lips find your neck.. then my teeth find your shoulder.. pushing my cock deeper inside you.. feeling myself getting tight

sroxy: Ohhhhgodddddyesssssss *Feeling it hit me hard, I push up against you* Come with me, boy, Kyle, my love…

ButchtasticKyle: **growling against your skin** yesss Sir.. ohgod yes.. nggggrrrrrrrr AHHHHHHHHHH

sroxy: YesssssgodddddnnnngnggggggggrrrRRRRGGGGGGGG

ButchtasticKyle: **holding you tightly.. feeling the waves of your orgasm hit me, as I come deep inside you * YESSSS OHGOD YES.. SIR .. ammmasd;l;la

sroxy: *Squeezing tightly as I shudder against you, feeling you coming inside me*

ButchtasticKyle: mmmm Sir, my love, lover mine…. **deep sweet kisses all over you.. I reach out and grab the curtain.. pulling it closed around us

sroxy: *Leaning into you and floating on a cloud of love*

*****

It’s pretty long, so I’ve given it its own page here.  Except for a few deletions, and some name changes, this is what our scenes look like, and I thought y’all might like a pervy look into our virtual bedroom.

Enjoy!

“Hello again.”

It was that guy from the bar, the creepy guy who had stood in the back and stared at her the night before.  Susan tried to sit up, but her arms wouldn’t move and her legs felt like lead.  As her eyes slowly cleared, she could see that they were in a forest, and he was holding something that glinted in the sun.

“You sure did sleep a long time,” he said, the laughter in his voice making Susan shudder.  He put his hand on her shoulder and slid his fingertips along her bare arm and Susan gasped.  “You were out like a light…nope, nothin’ woke you up.”  He laughed again and Susan stared at him in horror, afraid to ask what he meant.

The man lifted his other hand and she could see he was holding a big, black knife with a polished silver blade, the kind you’d expect to see in a Stallone movie…sharp and cruel.  He smiled down at her and then placed the blade against her shoulder and Susan screamed.  With terrifying precision, he slid it under her spaghetti strap and pulled up, easily slicing through.  Susan caught her breath and thought she was going to throw up.  She pulled at her arms – why weren’t they moving? – and realized that she was bound, wrists to her sides, legs spread apart, tethered to the ground somehow.  She couldn’t raise her arms, but she could twist her hips to move her shoulders, and so she struggled to pull her hands through, cursing him loudly and screaming for help.

“Now, darlin’, I don’t mind you makin’ all that noise, but if you’re gonna wiggle around like that, someone’s gonna get hurt.”  The way he smiled as he pressed the blade to her cheek made Susan stop cold, barely a whimper escaping her lips.  He placed a heavy, rough hand on her throat and held her down as he sliced through the other strap.  Then he looked into her eyes and purred, “I’ve been waitin’ for you to wake up cuz I didn’t want you to miss this,” as he placed the flat of the blade against her collarbone.  Susan gasped and instinctively arched her back, holding her breath and squeezing her eyes shut, wondering fearfully what death would feel like.  But, instead of the cold, cruel cut she was expecting, he ran the knife down her chest and across one breast.  Her nipple was hard from a mixture of cold and fear and he traced circles around it.  Then, as she started to relax and exhale, she felt the knife stop and turn up on edge, and then bite down.

“Be very still, darlin’, and this won’t hurt.  Much,” he said, the laughter in his voice replaced by something hard and hungry.  Susan could feel her heart beating in her head, throbbing faster as he pressed down against the fabric of her shirt and then slid sickeningly around the side of her nipple.  She was sure he had cut into her skin and waited to feel the sharp pain and warm trickle of blood…but it didn’t come.

He pulled at the fabric of her shirt with his other hand and slid the knife through the slit he had made, pulling it around smoothly until he had cut out a circle.  He let the fabric fall back as Susan opened her eyes to see her uncut nipple poking out through the hole.  Susan’s first thought after “Thank god I’m not dead!” was “and that fucking bastard cut a hole in my favorite shirt!  Goddammit!”, which made her laugh out loud at herself.  She was pretty sure god would understand the pressure she was under and forgive her praising and cursing him in the same breath, but worrying about clothing at a time like this?  That seemed ridiculous, even by her own, rather loose, standards.  As she relaxed onto the ground, heady from her reprieve, her thankful exhale was cut short as he suddenly pierced the top of her nipple with the tip of his knife.  He held it there as he leaned over her, his strong hand holding her mouth and pressing her head roughly to the ground.

“Now, darlin’, are you gonna promise to be a good girl?”

Susan fought the impulse to scream as pain and fear flooded her head, managing to nod at him, eyes wide and pleading.

He lifted the blade and put it against her throat.

“I can be nice, and I can be mean…”  He pressed the knife to her skin, sliding it sideways and drawing a faint line in red just below her jaw line.

“And you wouldn’t like me mean.”

“Ow!” she complained, cringing from the sudden throbbing in her head.  When she tried to reach up to feel her forehead she found her arms were stuck at her side.  Did I wind myself up in the blankets again? she wondered to herself as she half-opened her eyes.

The sun was pouring into her bedroom in a way that made it hard for her to see.  Then, slowly, as her eyes adjusted to the light, she noticed shadows of trees on the ceiling.  That’s funny, she thought, there aren’t any trees outside my window. As she opened her eyes further, the green of the leaves startled her into lucidity.

They weren’t shadows at all – those were real trees.  Where the fuck was she?

“Good morning, beautiful.”

The voice came from beside her, a voice she had heard before, someone familiar.  She turned her head to look in that direction and the trees cartwheeled above her.  She gasped from the sudden onslaught of nausea that rippled through her and closed her eyes tightly to keep from having to watch the world spin.

The voice beside her laughed.  “Darlin’, you sure can’t hold your liquor.”  She could tell the voice thought this was hilarious.

Her mind was racing, trying to grab hold of anything that made sense.  Last night – last night she had worked late…no, no that had been the night before.  So…what was last night?  She worked Thursday night so…Friday night…?  Yes – Friday night and the company party at the Old Pro.  Ok…think, Susan…she went to the party with Ellen…and then…something about line dancing…oh, god, and the kiss from the company president…it was all coming back in a rush…her coworkers all dancing like fools…and that one guy in the back…he had just refused to stop staring at her…smiling when she looked over, but never moving from the shadows…she wanted to run away and hide, but there was something about him that made her stay…even brazenly swaying her hips while she knew he was watching – what the hell, you know?  She wasn’t used to the attention, why not enjoy it, live a little?…Later she had danced with the group, then…stopped to get a coke…and Ellen wanted to go home with someone…yeah, she’d get a cab…more dancing…then…fuzzy…she felt too hot, too…thick…the music started swirling around her, knocking her off-balance and leaving her giddy…she couldn’t think straight…the pounding beat was going straight to her head… she had to get a little air out in the back…ohhhh, yes, the cool breeze felt good and her head started to clear and, as she stepped down out of the doorway, a voice…”here, let me help you”… then…nothing. Susan struggled to recall what had happened next, but all that came to mind was inky blackness.

“You look a little…confused,” the voice said with a chuckle.

Susan turned her head slowly, trying to steel herself for the rush of nausea she knew would hit her as she moved, and looked up to see the face from the bar…the guy in the back…the one that had stared at her…those eyes…that voice…

“Hello again.”

And then, to my extreme surprise, he did.

Now, life as a sex goddess is tricky.  The hardest part is doing my darnedest to make sure no one EVER meets me in person, because my identity as an actual human being is likely to ruin the whole “goddess” thing.  On top of that, well, it’s no secret I have a massive writer’s crush on Mr. Richards, Erotica Writer Extraordinaire, and so I was intimidated out of my mind.

Cravenly enough, I decided to bunt.  I left a text message on his phone:

You naughty thing, taking advantage of a defenseless girl with a porn crush.

I honestly thought that that would be the end of it, and I went about my morning, getting kids to school, washing dishes, shaving the cats (wouldn’t that be awesome?)…and then my phone beeped.  He had called.  He had left a message.  I actually giggled out of nervous excitement as I opened my phone to listen to it.

And then the strangest thing happened – as I listened to him speaking, it became very apparent that he was nervous about calling me.  The Famous Shon Richards was nervous…about talking to me.  And then a wonderful thing happened – using every ounce of courage I had, plus a bit I borrowed from my husband, I got up the nerve to call him back.  And we talked on the phone, without our titles, without our avatars and fancy blogs -  just two regular human beings on the phone.

As hard as it is to be a sex goddess, I imagine it’s just as hard to be the Famous Shon Richards.

We talked for a long time – about politics and jobs and masturbation (honestly, spend much time at all with me and we’ll be talking about masturbation.  Apparently I really am just that much of a pervert.)   He is as intelligent and funny as I had hoped, and is a lot of fun to talk to, especially when that growl sneaks into his voice when he gets to talking about power play…

As the months have passed, we’ve chatted on IM and Twitter, and exchanged email and photos.  And, yes, despite the fact that I’ve seen the person behind the image, I still get a starfuck thrill out of it, even if that is a tad wrong of me. I reserve the right to still worship the image, even though I’ve met, and very much like, the human behind it.

A few weeks ago, he wrote to me about a story he was considering, based loosely on scouting.  Did I have any ideas?  I put a lot of thought into it and sent him an outline of a few, and I was over the moon to see that some of them made it into the draft he sent me.  You can read the final version in the story he posted on Wednesday: Sub Scouts.

And, yeah, the groupie inside my head?  Grinning like crazy.  Life is good.