Sanctuary and Leather-Clad Thighs

Feeling a tad nostalgic this evening and found The Cult meandering down memory lane. I’ve always loved this song in equal proportion to all the hedonistic acts that took place while listening to it – privately, in night clubs, and two live performances. Unsurpisingly, The best memories were made behind closed doors.

Well, most of them. Because then I found this video and remembered Bike Week, 1995. It was a ‘working vacation’ for yours truly, but that never stopped me from having a good time. Bike Week was always crazy, probably still is, but 95 was the most insane trips to Daytona I ever made.

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Elust 96

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Photo courtesy of The Other Livvy

Welcome to Elust 96

The only place where the smartest and hottest sex bloggers are featured under one roof every month. Whether you’re looking for sex journalism, erotic writing, relationship advice or kinky discussions it’ll be here at Elust. Want to be included in Elust #96 Start with the rules, come back August 1st to submit something and subscribe to the RSS feed for updates!

~ This Month’s Top Three Posts ~

The Loop

Yellow Cab Service

Pammy Corrigan Gets Her Wish

~ Featured Post (Molly’s Picks) ~

Luring Him Back

Date Night

~Readers Choice from Sexbytes ~

International Chocolate Day 2017 (it was fucking brill)

Hot Reads from the Archives

Lucky Day
Speaking Truth to a Submissive Heart
Morning Stretch (more…)

Bad in the Blood

This song has always resonated with me. However, recent events have placed it top of mind. While I’m not enough of a hypocrite to become self-righteous about another person’s choice to destroy themselves, but I’m also not culpable when they finally succeed.

Not that such sentiments makes waiting for their immolation any easier, especially when the flames are obvious and imminent. It still fucking hurts no matter how calloused my soul.

The same can be said for biting words in half after thousand were ignored.

this person is blood to me, and they used to be worth a damn. Ten years ago, a drama like this would have broke my heart enough to make me act. (…I may or may not have the bail bondsman on speed dial…) And fuck if I wasn’t close to making the mistake they’re hell-bent on embracing. What a waste…

But it’s no longer tragic.

The first few episodes were a tragedy, but they’re to fucking self aware for this to be anything more than a farce. And while I’ve matured enough to not to do something stupid out of ‘spite,’ my deliberate acts of sublimation hardly feel healthy.  Sick, healthy, or nuts – the bulk of today’s working hours found me hammering away on the keys of this here board.

Apparently, that runs in the family too…

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Arm Candy

Out on the town, she looked amused when I offered to pay for a round or pick up part of the check. The cool-yet-withering appraisal of the waiter for deferring to me after repeated and not-so-subtle signals I wasn’t calling the shots.

Elsewhere, over drinks, I brought up an upcoming meeting. Rummaging through her purse, she curtly reminded me to, “Just keep my mouth shut” without looking up. (more…)