Reality in Rhythm

Author’s Note: This is the second part of my newest series of erotica, “Those That Know”, and my first piece since hearing about the passing of Rush drummer and lyricist, Neil Peart. I’m not a big one on celebrity culture, but my regular readers will know that Neil will now hold a place for me along with the likes of Douglas Adams and George Carlin. Although the words below have little to do with that (mostly), I wanted to mention this having found the prompt for this week’s Wicked Wednesday, “Time Keeping”, well…er…well timed.

photo from OpenClipart-Vectors on

Millie looked at the two erections in front of her. Her naked body was positioned on a comfy chair. She sat with legs together, specifically so her knees would fit between the two men, and her hands on her lap while she waited for a recommendation. “So which one first?”

Greg grinned down at her, his eyes big, brown and inviting.

Harvey glanced up at Greg, and then down at her. “I feel like I should write a Haiku to commemorate this.”

“Wait,” Millie said and pointed up at Harvey. “Wasn’t your name Carter last week?”

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Harvey’s shoulders slumped. “Yeah, the author seems to have changed my name.”

“Sucks to be you,” Greg said with a chuckle. “Hold on. A Haiku? Why the fuck would we use a Haiku for this?”

“The author?” Vanessa sat on a chair opposite Millie.

The other three all looked at Vanessa with a mix of shock and pleasured surprise.

“A fourth? The writer added a fourth,” Greg said to break the silence.

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“Who’s the author?” Vanessa repeated. She reached up and swatted at Harvey’s erection before giggling as it bounced up and down. Her eyes met Millie’s. “Holy fuck, you are hot.”

Millie felt her cheeks go red immediately. “Thank you, I…”

Vanessa cut her off as she leaned forward, pushing past the two cocks standing at attention to plant a solid kiss on Millie’s lips.

As a response, Millie opened her lips and found her tongue dancing happily with Vanessa’s.

The two men glanced at each other but remained silent.

After their long kiss, Millie pulled back with a smile. “We’ll give them dinner and a show.” She wrapped her hand around Harvey’s cock and kissed the tip, hard.

Vanessa did the same to Greg’s.

“I like this writer,” Greg said.

“Yeah,” Harvey agreed in a more pleasured groan than voice. “What’s not to like?”

Both women’s heads bobbed to an imaginary beat as they worshipped each respective erection.

Vanessa pulled back, giving the tip of Harvey’s cock one final long lick. “Swap?”

“Why not?” Millie asked.

The two women traded erections and repeated their process.

After a few more moments, Millie released hers and sat back.

Vanessa responded by taking one erection in each hand and sucking both heads into her mouth, rubbing them together as she did.

“That’s fucking hot,” Millie said.

Even with her mouth full, Vanessa was able to form a grin around the men.

Greg groaned.

Vanessa pulled both from her mouth and watched the friendly fire incident as Greg sprayed warm, white results over top of Harvey’s erection. She held Harvey’s cock still, while stroking Greg’s to milk every last drip of cum from it.

“Wow, that was awesome.” Millie smiled wider and shook her head.

Vanessa eyed Harvey’s cock. “Where are the condoms? I want to fuck this one.”

“We’re fictional,” Greg pointed out. “We don’t need condoms.”

Vanessa’s face went slack. “Fictional?”

“The author wrote us to fuck well, though,” Harvey encouraged, not wanting to lose the opportunity. “You’ll have such an orgasm that…”

She held up a tiny package containing a condom. “I’ve no idea what you guys are talking about. You can put this on, or we’re not doing it.” She looked angry.

Harvey continued moving his mouth, but no sound came out.

“Where did you get that?” Millie asked.

“I had it,” Vanessa said. Her face changed from anger to confusion as she glanced down at her naked body. “There’s no table and no…where did I get it from.”

“Dude,” Greg chastised, “put the fucking condom on before she changes her mind or gets distracted.”

Harvey grabbed the package from her and lifted it to his mouth, intending to tear open.

“We’re fictional,” Vanessa declared. “We’re not really here.”

Harvey dropped the condom, knowing his chance was lost.

“Yes, we are. The writer just made us to play.”

A bed appeared behind Harvey, filled with large fluffy pillows and satin sheets.

Vanessa stood and pushed Harvey back

Not knowing the bed had appeared, he fell hard and bounced on the mattress.

“Holy fuck, that’s a lot of pink,” Greg said as he blinked his eyes in an attempt to adjust to the brightness of it.

Without a word, Vanessa climbed on top of Harvey. She rubbed her wet pussy over the length of his erection without letting him in. Turning back to Millie and Greg, she said, “So we have no consequence here?”

Millie nodded first then, after the distraction of the gorgeous naked woman sitting atop his friend stopped distracting him, so did Greg.

Grabbing the throbbing erection beneath her, Vanessa positioned herself and lowered on to it. “Now, are you two going to join us, or what? I mean, multiple people should mean multiple orgasms, no?”

Millie glanced at Greg to see his erection had already begun to regrow. Wrapping her hand around it, she dragged him towards the bed. She laid back on the bed in repose, waiting for him to mount her. “I’m really starting to like this writer.”

With a smile, Greg’s suddenly massive erection penetrated her. He began to thrust into her, his hips smacking against her to make sounds louder than Neil Peart would have by slamming his sticks on a snare drum.

Reality Expenses


“Why is there no sex version of Guitar Hero,” Millie asked as she lowered onto the erection beneath her.

“There should be one!” Carter nodded and watched as his wife lowered completely, sheathing the hard cock, before stepping forward and offering his own to her lips.

“I suspect,” Greg said from beneath Millie in more grunt than actual voice, “they’d be worried about it causing too many insecurity issues.”

Millie rose and lowered on Greg’s cock three times as she considered this. “They watch porn, don’t they? That’s pretty unrealistic and yet there is generally still a drive to have sex for folk in spite of those images.” She wrapped her fingers around Carter’s erection and stroked. She felt the warmth of desire to have it on her tongue but would wait until the discussion was complete. Multitasking was one thing, but not so simple with a full mouth in this case.

Carter put his hands on his hips and leaned backward, pushing his cock forward so his body formed a slight crescent shape as he stood. “I guess it is a fine line between flaunting and bragging.”

“Exactly!” Greg agreed. “Just because we can stay hard for hours might actually hurt the confidence of some. Especially those suffering from things like erectile dysfunction or the like.”

“We do need to think of those in need more,” Millie said with a deeper voice between heavy breaths. “Oh, fuck. Right there.” Her other hand dropped onto Greg’s chest for balance. She kissed the tip of Carter’s cock, still not ready to suck on it.

“So how can we help others?” Greg asked. His hands grasped Millie’s hips and pulled her down harder on him with an audible smack of her ass against his hips.

“Fuck, dude.” Carter shook his head. His left hand reached behind Millie’s head and interlaced with her brunette curls. “We’re fictional characters. What can we do?”

Millie grinned up at him. “Good point. I guess flaunt it if you got it.” She opened her mouth and took his massive cock inside to the hilt.

“Flaunt it if you got it,” Carter agreed with a hiss. He closed his eyes as his head lulled back.

“Shame we’re fictional.” Greg pulled Millie down hard on him again. “Imagine how fucking hot this would be were we real.”

Carter’s head snapped back to attention as he looked down at Greg. “Nah, dude.”

Millie released Carter’s cock and laughed. “Absolutely not. If we were real, this would feel fantastic, but it wouldn’t be as vague to allow readers to gestalt in their own hot ideas. That, plus we’d have to use condoms.”

“Imagine the expense as condoms aren’t cheap,” Carter agreed. “It’s not like this writer has given us any backstory jobs or anything. We’re probably homeless.”

Greg nodded. “Good point. Flaunt it if you got it.”

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“That’s my boy.” Millie patted Greg’s chest. “But Carter, darling…”

He locked eyes with her.

“With these bodies, I doubt we’re homeless. These would require gym memberships, and that ain’t cheap.

He held her gaze and watched his erection go deep into her mouth to continue its interrupted flirting with her tonsils. He leaned his head forward to see past his belly. “But I’m a dad bod,” he whispered.

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“Don’t piss off the writer,” Carter hissed. “Next time he’ll leave you alone to masturbate.”

“But I like masturbating.”

“Good and fine, until you realize that’s what the writer leaves you to do until the end of time and doesn’t give you any lotion to help.”

Orders Given

Master’s hand stroked her cheek as she knelt silently beside his chair.

He wore a black suit, white shirt, and red tie. He sat with his right leg crossed over his left, towards her, in his plush armchair.

From the corner of her eye, she could see Kelly on the opposite side of him, in the exact same situation; kneeling back on her calves and naked except for the thin leather collar around her neck.

“When the guests arrive, think of yourselves as the appetizers,” Master said in his deepest baritone soothing style. “You greet the females with as you see fit. You greet the males with a short blowjob, a tease with no climax intended.” He held up a finger to accentuate his next point. “Ask for consent first.”

Jenn felt herself nodding.

“Then you are to separate them from their clothing. Your job, my sweets, is to whet their appetite and make certain that the C-F-N-M aspect of our gathering is observed and respected. Unless a male is leaving, you are to make sure all of them are naked.”

CFNM had her questioning the concept, however. Clothed male, naked female, was certainly a valid fetish, but the fact that she and Kelly were already naked in this scenario seemed odd. Let it go, Jenn, she thought. Master knows best.

This last thought almost caused her to laugh, but she held her face stoic.

“Yes, sir,” the women answered simultaneously.

His head turned slowly, first to Jenn and then around to Kelly. “I know it will seem odd being you two are already naked but once all the men are naked, think of yourselves as the fluffers. Your job is to keep the men hard and excited until the women decide to join them.”

Master was Baxter van Durme, here.

Jenn did feel it was all a bit confusing as it was only his play-dom name.

Bill Getto, was actually a house husband who was alone most days while his four kids were at school and his lawyer wife chased oil. He referred to himself as a play-dom being he was really a nice and quiet guy.

This aspect, the hosting orgies as Baxter van Durme bit, was more roleplay than anything for Bill. Even the collars on both Jenn and Kelly were more about the event than their actual relationships.

Were Dina, his own wife, here the party would still go on. It would be Bill in the collar, however, and Baxter would remain asleep in the back of his mind on a pile of dirty magazines.

Of the threesome, and before the night ends they would be a threesome of a different context, Jenn was the only one without spousal support in this endeavor. Funnier still, Master’s wife and Kelly’s husband were helping keep Jenn’s husband in the dark about all of this.

Master stroked Kelly’s hair. “Do you consent to tonight’s plan?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered. Turning her head towards him, she showed an excited grin she was having difficulty hiding.

Turning to Jenn, he began stroking her hair before giving a slight tug. “And you?”

“Yes, sir,” Jenn said with eagerness in her voice that surprised even her. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“Good girl,” he growled and faced forward. “Both of you are my good girls. Tonight’s ceremony will bring us closer together.”

This time Jenn couldn’t help but laugh.

Master slouched and turned. “Jenn?”

“Sorry, just find it funny to host a CFNM event with a Handmaid’s Tale theme to it. When you consider the misogyny in inspiration for this and the power you’re giving the women. It’s like giving the image of male dominance but…” her voice trailed off as she turned to see both Master and Kelly.

Both stared back at her with looks of annoyance.

“Are you here to think or fuck?” Kelly asked.

“Ha!” Jenn threw her arms up, pretending to be upset. “If you want me to stop thinking, don’t give me such intellectual references to deal with.”

Master glanced at Kelly. “If the guests weren’t imminent, I think I’d have to punish her.”

“She’d like that,” Kelly agreed.

The door chimed.

All three shifted back into position.

“Sorry, sir,” Jenn said, still grinning and now suppressing further laughter.

Yukon, the butler, entered the hall in front of them. “Sir? May I present the Mrs. and Commander Andrew Wells.” He turned to the couple. “I present to you Master Baxter van Durme.”

The Wells had dressed for the theme, with Mrs. Wells’ short curves in a long blue dress, blue stockings and pumps. Commander Wells wore what looked like a police dress uniform, likely something he found at a costume store…but not a cheap costume store.

Master stood and gestured to Jenn. “Greetings.”

Without words, Jenn stood and walked over to the couple. “Mrs. Well,” she said offering a slight bow.

Mrs. Wells wrapped her arms around Jenn in with a hug and, to Jenn’s surprise, pulled her down for an intense kiss.

Breaking from the embrace, Jenn glanced back at Master to see his approving smile. She then moved to the Commander. “Sir,” she said with a nod.

He smiled, but didn’t move.

Lowering to her knees, she looked up at him. “May I greet you, sir?”

“Yes, you may,” he answered.

Her hands found his pant zipper and pulled. Reaching into his pants, she pulled the waistband of his briefs down, leaving his good-sized, already erect penis for all to see, pointing straight at her. “Thank you, sir.”

He put a hand on the back of her head and offered slight pressure.

She opened her mouth and accepted his pressure.

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Polyamory and Introversion: The Anxiety of it All – A Blogiversery of Sorts

Nine years ago…Nov 15, 2010…I began the Stranded in Toronto site on WordPress.

It seems like eons ago.polyamory anxiety introversion

I recall sitting at the computer and debating the title, finally settling on Stranded as I simply missed my Rocky Mountains.

That’s right. They’re mine. You gonna make something of it?

I was listening to the song linked above by Billy Joel as I began writing this mess. A melancholy song about trying to evolve before it’s too late.

During that time, I did evolve.

I began to push myself outside my comfort zone…made easier by the fact I found an audience that fed my need for assurance and was single, giving me the ability to search without restraint as I needed.

I went so far out of my comfort zone, in fact, that I declared myself solo poly in the summer of 2011. There was no certainty that the title would fit nor that it would last, but I claimed it, and my inner introvert raised its Spockian eyebrow but let me try it.

The title did fit, however. In some instances, I played the part of what some in this lifestyle refers to as Bull.

For the uninitiated, a Bull is a single man that engages with married women, or Vixens, with their husband’s consent. Sometimes the husband, or the Stag, can join in (as was usually the case in my situations) or watch with the intent of either compersion or being cuckolded.

I’ve mentioned before that threesomes were much more fun being 40-something and mostly sober, compared to being 20-something and drunk. Maturity, I believe, breeds sensuality and confidence that simply add to this experience.

Then I met the beautiful @LaurasPond in early 2013 before eloping in the Spring of 2014 to begin our continuing journey together in an open marriage. It was a fantastic beginning where we fed each other’s confidence as our partnership grew.

I’ve spoken about our open relationship enough. And to reiterate, no one can tell you how an open relationship will work for you, only how it works for them.

This partnership is continuing, but there is a speed bump; one most would never consider.

Introversion, for me, has turned into a rubber band and over the last year and began a slow, painful snapping back process.

And it leaves a fucking big bruise.

Last month we attended the Polyamory Toronto annual speed dating event, and my introversion dragged my anxiety off the charts. The event was its usual fun, but this year’s venue was a poor choice for the amount of noise. I have a hard enough time hearing anyway, but then my anxiety piled on, leaving me in a room full of people and white noise.

This has happened before on occasion, but this was the strongest bout I’ve felt of it in more than a decade. It makes it hard to communicate when anytime someone speaks to me I jump as if shocked by their attention.

Further, for your consideration, is that Laura now has a boyfriend that she has been seeing for months. This is part of our chosen poly direction, and she is doing nothing wrong here.

She disagrees with me, but I see him as an alpha to my not-so-much. He fills the air with sound as I am quiet. On the times I do speak, he tries to find a way to fix the situation I state…which is rarely, if ever, the response I look for. He’s more extroverted than I am. He’s more tech-savvy than I am. He’s more a go-getter than I am. He’s in better shape than I am.

He’s not something I can compete with, nor want to. He gives her something different than I can and, right now, she needs that more than what she needs from me. She’s not leaving, but this is an evolution for her in her needs.

I’ve often thought of myself as a gatekeeper. Even before I declared myself as solo poly, I would meet people and introduce them to the concepts of ethical non-monogamy or some form of kink. They would be overjoyed at first, then finding someone else in the niche that interested them with more expertise than I have and move on. This was never something intentional and hurt when they would leave me as they evolved.

In a sense, that’s where I feel I am again thanks in large part to the feeling of devolving my introversion has brought about in me.

In this case, I helped build her confidence and encouraged her to see other people and explore, with or without me. That she has found one that she now chooses over me, should have been expected. She has found something that she needs and that she must be allowed to explore.

That it has taken away something I needed is on me, for expecting too much.

Now, I just have to find it elsewhere if the elastic lets go.

Sure, there are plenty of self-help books or gurus available to assist with how to deal with anxiety and introversion.

“If you’re looking for self-help, why read a book written by somebody else?” – George Carlin

Last night, even, I began listening to an audio version of “The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People: Powerful Lessons in Personal Change“, by Stephen R. Covey. A chapter in so far and I can hear how well written it is, but I also sense it is like so many things I’ve read before. These all tend to be great sales techniques that simply mask the real issues.

I’m fucking tired of selling, especially when no one is buying.