Steellover

I have what feels like terminal nasal rot.

I stayed home from work today, tired, catching up on sleep, blowing my nose.

Half the day resting, the other half blowing my nose, and much of the day TRYING to sneeze.

You know how it feels...you feel the sneeze coming. It builds up and builds up, and it just wont come.  You are like, ha...ha...ha...hah....hah.... HAA..Haaa. HAAAAAAA....

....but then, no ...."Choo!."

And those are the worst. Sort of like edge play when you aren't allowed to cum; if only I were allowed to sneeze!  Just let it rip. But sometimes the sneeze just won't come.

And when you do, when you finally get the sneeze out after like five minutes of it building up, ithe pressure building in your sinuses, your eyes watering, and finally, after that last "AAAAAAAA..... that seems to last forever, it comes.  The sneeze practically takes your head off. The walls seem to shake. Your whole body jerks back; it can be the best most mind blowing nose-gasm you've ever had.

Sorry I don't have anything interesting to write about this time. I'm honestly too tired and physically drained to do anything, much less be a good attentive submissive. Maybe not too tired to have another ripping sneeze though. I feel one coming on as I type this.  huh...huh...huh...HAAAAAAAA!!!......

(no sneeze. Man, what a let down.)

Do you guys ever write something, then go back and really look at what you post and decide, "You know, maybe it isn't really a good idea to post that." ?

So last night, I typed a long post.  Got to the end, and almost hit that gold "Publish" button.  But then, something stopped me.  I realized that, you know, nobody is really going to enjoy reading this, and they certainly aren't going to be aroused by it in the same way I was.

First of all, I've found in my musings, that writing something when you are in a heightened state of arousal seldom turns out good.  On a practical level, you tend to miss grammatical, punctuation and other gaffes that you might otherwise catch.  On another level, sharing a lurid sexual fantasy can be a deeply personal thing, and even with a kink/BDSM tolerant community, not everyone will experience the same deeply erotic feelings as you.  In fact, many might even think they are cringeworthy.  

Anyway, I had composed a post talking about various cuckold, chastity, and forced masturbation scenes, but I need not repeat the whole post in detail- after all, I already decided not to post it the first time!   And, after re-reading it quickly (and finding a few sentence structure gaffes, among other things) I decided it just wouldn't go over that well, just like the old addage, don't drive while drunk, maybe "Don't post when horny." 

So instead, I'll give a more g-rated version, which goes like this: 

A few years back, I was talking with a woman I had met once who I really admired.  Heck, if she had lived in the same city (and not five hours away) she would have seemed like my dream partner in many ways:  Dominant, open-minded, intelligent, and really, really cool- exactly the type of person I would want to be involved with, romantically and kink-ily.  Her view on life was this:  Compartmentalizing relationships. There are some men who can serve her sexual needs... and only that.  And then there are some people, men and women, who they can be great friends with, people to socialize with, go hiking, snowboarding, jogging, drinks at the bar, play Dungeons and Dragons (if you're into that) with. And then, there is that one special person, a companion, romantic partner, to love, cherish, and share emotional intimacy with...and if that person cannot satisfy you sexually, then of course you have that first group of alpha studs for that! 

I would love to be that kind of special person for someone.  Maybe kink comes into play, maybe it doesn't, and maybe those lurid cuckold, chastity cum-eating fantasies come into play, maybe they don't. But I admired the way my friend, five hours away, compartmentalized things in a practical way.  And I would be open to being with someone who felt the same, should they allow me into their life as a submissive, romantic partner and life companion.

So anyway that's all I got, thanks for reading (and I'll go ahead and hit that "Publish" button this time.)

Big Eclipse on Monday!  Tons of hype building up. I even took the day off, thinking about heading out to the desert (but ended up snowboarding instead.)

 But unfortunately...man, what a let down THAT was!  It wasn't particularly cloudy or anything.  But, unless you had those semi-opaque polarizing glasses, there was no way you could even tell it was happening.  It even didn't get noticeably darker. Maybe it did somewhat, but it was really subtle, like you were wearing sunglasses even if you weren't.  But certainly nothing like the one last October, where you experienced this eerie, creepy twilight at mid-day.  There were no crescent shadows, like before, no "ring of fire," and the only thing that was sort of cool was looking through the polarized glasses and seeing a "bite" out of the sun.  Now, granted many other people, living in the deep south and parts of the East Coast, did get quite a show.  That must have been awesome.  But here it was kind of, well, nothing too special.  That's okay though. The one we experianced last October was pretty awesome, and we had one in 2017 that was pretty spectacular as well.

Nothing too interesting going on in my personal life either. Just...this feeling of too many hands on my time and not enough time on my hands.  You get involved in things, hobbies and what not, and people you are involved with start wanting you to pull more weight. I guess that's only fair.  So maybe I'll do a Music Corner. Haven't talked about music in a while....

MUSIC CORNER:  YES "90215"  

The 80's were a pretty down time for mainstream rock. Sure, there was plenty of cool interesting stuff bubbling in the underground music scene at the time, but from around 1983 to around 1987 or so, it was mostly keyboard driven synth junk, which wasn't my thing at all.  Remember, this was the era of Depeche Mode- and sadly I, uh, just never liked Depeche Mode (sorry.)  So anyway, about three years after Yes had broken up, they reform and release this, an 80's mainstream rock album.  This almost didn't get released as a Yes album at all.  It started as a joint musical project with guitarist Trevor Rabin and Yes's former rhythm section Chris Squire and Alan White, and the band was to be called "Cinema." It was only after they brought former Yes vocalist/guitarist John Anderson and keyboardist Tony Kaye , that the band decided, "Well, let's go ahead and just call it Yes. At least people know that name."

So anyway, Yes were known for some pretty intricate and long compositions over the years. Some would even say, pretentious and self-indulgent, and I won't disagree, but yet- many of those old tracks were just brilliant nonetheless. Instantly memorable and classic tunes that defied all pop conventions and evoked dream-like soundscapes with sweeping melodies and brilliant musicianship.  However, "90215" does away with all the long, pretentious stuff that typified their past albums and focuses on shorter, hook laden pop songs.  And, pop music or not, it's still brilliant, in every way.  First of all, the musicianship is still top notch, and the songwriting is better than ever. The hooks work, the melodies still dream-like and moving, it has an aura of class and elegance that most 80's pop simply doesn't have.  For example, listen to the instrumental opening of "Changes," and the interplay of Chris Squire's bass, Tony Kaye's keyboards, and the flourishes of Rabin's guitar work, and, even though it's still a pop song, this is clearly on a higher level than most pop songs.  Another thing about this album:  Both Trevor Rabin and John Anderson share lead vocals, and in fact most of the tracks are sung as a duet between the two.  The other three also contribute backing vocals and choruses here and there, (for example, on "It can Happen," Chris Squire sings several lines) but the point is:  It's all seamless.  If you paid attention you can easily tell who is singing which part; Anderson's high-register vocals are far more distinctive than Rabin's mid-range vocals, but you get so carried away by the music that usually, you DON'T pay attention- and that is the point, that's why it worked so well.

Overall, I love this album. It's beautiful, elegant, perfectly executed, has awesome musicianship, and is one of the best rock albums of the 80s. And this is coming from a guy who listened mostly to heavy rock, metal and punk back then- which obviously Yes were not. It is for good reason that so many songs off of this will be instantly recognizable to people who were around back then.

Anyway, thanks for reading "That's about it, see ya."

I read somewhere that some female TikTok models can make up to six figures, even seven figures a year in income.  Sheesh, maybe I'm in the wrong business. 

But on the other hand, who sustains that business?  Who feeds into that kind of income?  I don't mean to judge, after all if it was that easy to make money I'd probably be doing it too.  But for all the consumers out there, if only there were better things to spend hard earned money on.  Like, for example, people who you can actually talk to and interact with face to face, and, you know, go out and do stuff with. (Even if it's nothing sexual.) I've even heard that some of the more successful ones actually hire random dudes (yes dudes) to interact with their online fans.  So, what am I missing here?  Watching videos of random girls gyrate around and paying money to interact with some random dude.  I'd rather watch it in person, with someone who actually wants to be with me, as opposed to some rando I'm paying a fee to who doesn't know me from some random horny dude living in rural China.  So nope, not for me, thanks.

So, in other words, I have better things to do.  I drove back out to the desert last weekend.  Out to the Oreana area again; if maps still show Oreana at all, (there's not much to show) then it's located in southern Idaho, with the nearest "Real" town being Grandview.  And even that town isn't much more than 500 people. 

The rolling badlands give a sense of peace. It was cold, windy, but everything was greening up and the first wildflowers are starting to poke out.  You find weird stuff out here. Following a narrow dirt track, I turned eastward onto an even narrower and more rugged one, and drove out to a bluff overlooking the badlands.  I stopped here to take in the view.  Canyons and mesas stretched out in front of me, with the Owyhee mountains, still snow covered, to my right. And looking down...suddenly it was The Beach.  I don't know what else to call this spot. Sea shells were everywhere, Some of them loose in the dirt, most of them embedded in the rocks. I decided to go beachcombing at this spot, and came home with a pocket full of shells ("Rally round the family!" if you know the reference...)  Remember this place is hundreds of miles from any coastline, and at nearly 4000 feet of elevation.  Go figure. 

There is, as I've said, a lot of strange stuff in the high desert.

Anyway, that's about it for now.

It was four years ago that the world went to shit, and everything ended.

Four years ago that we were sent home from the office, stores, buisnesses, parks, restaurants and clubs shut down.

It was like the zombie apocalypse.  I remember being at the crowded supermarket, the shelves bare, frantic and stressed out people everywhere, even the cashiers.  One of them, on the sly, scanned a jar of pasta sauce I had tried to buy and, while I wasn't looking, stuffed it under the counter for himself. Unethical?  Sure, but maybe he must have needed it.  It wouldn't have done any good reporting him and I didn't even realize he'd gotten away with it it until I got home.

I remember the fear, the despair.  Each new day seemed to bring a whole month's worth of horrible news.  For the days, weeks, afterwards, I scanned the news, hoping for some slight glimmer of hope, or sliver of good news, but there was none. Not one glimmer, not one sliver. Instead, over and over, it was like the worst possible outcome or most nightmare scenario imaginable, but yet- what actually would transpire was somehow even worse than the worst possible outcome or nightmare scenario.

No more working at the office and seeing people every day. Trying to set up a home office, get the computer to connect remotely, was challenging and sometimes the network would just drop you for no reason- some days worse than others.  Then, trying to plan lunch meals instead of just grabbing something downtown.  Whole days would pass by where I saw not one single other human being.  Except maybe for tiles on a computer screen.

There was a big music festival that was supposed to be happening then. The 2020 Treefort Music Festival, scheduled for March 18 through the 22nd. I remember riding my bike downtown that Friday, the 20th. It was supposed to have been thronging with happy, joyous people milling about, and music ringing out from a dozen clubs and bars.  But all I saw was deserted streets.  Maybe one or two disheveled homeless people shuffling around, but that was it. No music, only eerie silence. There were barely even any cars on the road.  

Back at home, the loneliness, the isolation, already seemed to be like a monolith of despair. No human contact allowed.  No gatherings, fun is illegal.  They might have the "Cootie Virus" and not even realize it, as the morbid joke went.

But yet, I thought, at the worst, okay maybe I can do this for a few weeks.  Even the most nightmare scenario or worse possible outcome was predicting that it would only last till fall, but even that was unthinkably horrible to me.  But of course, what actually transpired was even worse than the worst possible outcome or nightmare scenario.  The days of isolation turned to weeks, then the weeks into months.  Summer came and went, fall came and went, and the lockdowns, quarantines, cancelled events, and postponed life continued.  Concerts, festivals, holidays, events, gatherings- all cancelled.  Art fairs, dating plans- cancelled.   Halloween- Cancelled.  Thanksgiving- Cancelled. Christmas- well, the I guess the Grinch finally got away with it that year.

I found solace in hobbies- art and music, and in the outdoors, where I explored places I had never been to. I turned inward.  But the lack of human contact, of any fun or joy involving other people, really began to wear on me.  And most of all, the fear that this "New Normal" would never end, that this was to be the extent of human existence forever- humanity at arms length, social interaction limited to just tiled faces seen through computer screens.  Because some were predicting that, too.  And the pattern was always that the worst predictions about the virus came true.

But thankfully some semblance of normal life did resume: slowly, tentatively, but surely,.  And for that I am grateful.  At the 2022 Treefort music festival, one band said it like this:  "It's like coming up for air."  If nothing else, it made me thankful for everything and everyone I took for granted and missed. Hard times will do that. Which is why I never take things for granted anymore but cherish each and every personal contact I have with friends and family- and fun gatherings.

Anyway, that's all I got, see ya.

You sit and think about her when she's not there. Wondering what she's doing tonight, who she's with, if she's out with her friends, or home with her family. 

You lay awake in bed, thinking about her, wishing you could share a space with her, but it's way beyond just sleazy sexual fantasies. 

You dream about watching the sunset in the hills with her, cuddling with her on the couch watching a corny romantic movie, sitting with her by the fire, taking her to your special places you like to escape to: The rock by the creek with the strange carving.  That lake up in the mountains you hike to.  That hot spring pool- except there aren't a ton of other people already packed in like sardines (like there always seems to be these days when you try going to natural hot springs pools.)

To you, she's the most beautiful woman you've ever seen, even though other people might not think so.

I saw her again the other day, at the hair salon. I still got butterflies, even though I'm a grown man who should have all the confidence in the world. I know some of her story; she is divorced, has three kids and already one grand kid. We do have a lot of the same interests. She gives really good haircuts, too.

I don't know all of her story though.  I don't know if she has some guy in her life already.  She may well already have, though she has not mentioned it.  If so, I hope that whoever he is, realizes how special she is and how lucky he is to be with someone so amazing, beautiful and fun.

But then again, I've been down this road before. The rational part of me realizes I'm too old for schoolboy crushes.  It almost never works out the way you want it to, and when you do get rejected, because you've let it build up so much, it hurts far more than when you casually meet someone you don't know all that well, and ask her out right away.  So it's foolish, at my age to have thoughts like this about someone, to put them on a pedestal like this.  Hopefully I will meet someone else soon, who will make me forget about Her.  

Geez, I'm sounding like an angsty 14 year old kid here. "Stop it!" says a wise therapist.  "Grow up!"  "Yeah, You're right," I reply.

So, I'll talk about something else:  Big music festival happening here next week. 

Tons of bands, but most of them are relatively unknown.  Well, there is one band I like, and I'd drop a youtube link here if I could but I'm not sure thats allowed if youre not a premium member.  They're called "Place to Bury Strangers," so check em out.  But that's one band out of four hundred. It costs like 150 dollars for a one day pass and like 500 for the whole five day festival, but to make it worthwhile you have to spend most of the five days wandering around watching bands, which can be pretty tiring, especially if you aren't familiar with most of the bands.  How do you know which ones are good and which ones are boring?  Maybe I'll spend the next five days checking all the festival bands on youtube, and then put together a list for when I drop the $500 for the festival. Or, just wait until Place to Bury Strangers goes on tour by themselves, and go see em then.

At work Monday morning, chatting with the bros.  Talking about our weekend adventures:  Snowboarding, heading out to the hills to pick agates, having a beer with my buds.  

With my old friends, it's just a couple beers, watching sports, talking about work, cars, past adventures, home improvement ideas, whether the Warriors have a chance this year (I don't think they do) or whether Kyle Larson will win more races this year (He's a great driver so, probably).  Usual guy talk.

But behind closed doors, I'm... whatever She wants me to be.  What happens behind closed doors between the two of us remains behind closed doors. It is our secret, our space to explore. I am Her toy, Her servant, Her lover, or whatever Her moods demand me to be.  It is a safe space, that we share. 

But what happens behind closed doors stays there, as what we share there, and the rolls we play, are our own.  Nobody's buisness.

At work, my work shirt hides the marks of Her discipline, and perhaps She even hid a special device to exert control over me, in my jeans.  I'm more easily controlled that way, she always says.  I do grow envious of other men who are allowed to let it hang free. (or, I WANT to be ABLE to grow, so to speak!) 

I'll never know what She tells Her friends.  That's not up to me anyway.  Though once, I saw one of her co-workers look at me strangely and then smile. 

And so at our work break, I chat with my co-workers, talking about weekend adventures, snowboarding, heading out to the hills, and times with my buds. 

And maybe I'll say that I got to spend some time with my wife/girlfriend- and leave it at that.

Anyway I haven't made any blog entries in a while but I just saw a thread about "The submissive personality" and thought I would share.  That's about it, see ya. 

For all you guys out there, hope you have a special evening.  May you make Her feel special. May you do something nice for your someone, share some romantic times and make it as kinky as you wish.

For all your women out there, may your man take care of you, and may you share the love and companionship you deserve.

For all you single people like me...  let's get %&&* drunk!

"Hey Gino" (not his real name dummy)

"Who are you gonna root for on Sunday?" I asked, while casually chatting at work.

"Oh, I don't watch sports anymore.  I'm not even gonna turn it on.  Probably gonna take the boys fishing, or do some maintenance on my bike."

"Why not?" I asked.

He then launched into a spiel about how the Super Bowl, and most sports in general, are just a diversion, "Bread and Circuses," so to speak, so the global elite Bohemian Grove Illuminatti who Secretly Control Everything can keep us entertained while they hatch their nefarious plans to control the world's population and reap the wealth and power.  Total Alex Jones Infowars conspiracy type stuff.  And he kept this up for quite a while; about how our country's sovereignity is being stripped away, everything that happens, all events, pandemics, wars, and what not are part of their whole global plan for dominance, and you can't trust the media because they are being controlled too, and on and on- and the best chance for stopping it is, you may have guessed, to vote for Donald Trump.

I respect people's opinions- I really do, but this dude sounded to me like he spent way too much time following some dark rabbit holes. I don't disagree that there are problems in the world, and let's just say that the thing he proposes as a "solution" to the problems is something I see as a big part of them. Maybe we really are being manipulated, but maybe he is too- being led down a dark rabbithole for a different nefarious end.

  But I, for one, would rather forget about the problems of the world, for a little while, and come together, with people of all stripes, genders, beliefs, sexual preferences, and so on- and get together and party on Sunday over good food, drinks, and sports.   I'm not gonna tell you which team to root for- although I will say that, having grown up in northern California, that might influence where my pro-sports loyalties lie.... But I am going to tell you that, even if you wish that somehow BOTH teams would lose- and I've heard that one a lot lately- it's a good excuse to get together, forget about the troubles of the world, and be with people just having fun.  Nothing wrong with escapism.  May your favorite team win on Sunday, and if you really don't care, then may you still have a fun Sunday anyway- even if it is fishing with the kids or working on your bike.

Fellas, if you have ever been in either of these situations, I feel your pain.

It is a warm spring night.  They climb up the hill together, enjoying the spring air.  They  chat, sharing stories of their lives. They have so much in common!  They laugh, talk, and enjoy the warmth of the air, and each other. They had been out a couple times, but yet he is trying not to rush things. Still, the longing is there, for her touch, for her kiss. The conversation pauses. He look into her eyes.  She is beautiful, and sitting there, the setting sun reflecting off her hair, she gives him a warm smile, her eyes beckoning.  He leans over, and gently kisses her.

She pulls back, alarmed, eyes suddenly blazing with anger.  Giving him a shove backwards, she exclaims, "What are you DOING, you creep!"

And, embarrassed, he apologizes for his mistake. Silently, they walk down the hillside and back to the car. He drops her off at home, apologizing again.  She never calls him again.  Meanwhile, she tells her friends what an aggressive creep he was.

______________________________________

A month later, it is warm summer night. They climb up the hill together, enjoying the spring air.  They  chat, sharing stories of their lives. They have so much in common!  They laugh, talk, and enjoy the warmth of the air, and each other. They had been out a couple times, but yet he is trying not to rush things. Still, the longing is there, for her touch, for her kiss. The conversation pauses. He look into her eyes.  She is beautiful, and sitting there, the setting sun reflecting off her hair, she gives him a warm smile, her eyes beckoning.  He thinks about leaning over to kiss her. But he is wiser, having learned from experience.  A long silence passes.  They both sigh.  Eventually they resume making more small talk, about sports, people they knew from college and high school, their favorite bands, and their annoying opinionated relatives. 

Still chatting, they walk down the hillside and back to the car. He drops her off at home, hoping she will invite him in.  She does not.  In fact, she never calls him again, despite him desperately wanting to see her.  Meanwhile, she tells her friends that even though he was quite a gentleman, he was a total dud because he wouldn't kiss her.

So, what is a guy supposed to do, when he gets mixed signals like this?  I would rather be a lover, than fight a no win battle of the sexes.  Anyway, this is why it can be tough being a dude.   Unless of course you are already in a relationship- and even then, little misunderstandings in communication can and do come up.

Anyway, thanks for reading, see ya.