Custom cuffs! Yay!

*Another entry from my old blog.*

Thursday, 6. October 2005, 13:35:46

Yesterday afternoon, a friend of mine who makes these really nice studded leather cuffs came by my office. He made a fabulous leather collar that you can wear as a wrist cuff, and it’s got really spiky spikes, not those (literally) pointless, rounded-tipped wannabe studs that some people call spikes. Plus the buckle’s made of brass, which I think is a lovely touch. He’d made it for himself, but after MUCH cajoling, threats, and eyelash-batting, the poor soul broke down and it… is… MINE.

I was asking him yesterday if he could make me some leather cuffs, with about five inches of chain between them. Sure, he said, “I can do that, yeah.” We were discussing the minutiae of the cuffs, then I decided I wanted a matching pair of leg cuffs, so we had to measure around my ankles and all that. We talked about whether sweat would rust the studs, and neither of us were sure, so he said he’d look for materials that wouldn’t easily get corroded, maybe stainless steel studs or something. We were talking about all of these things pretty matter-of-factly, but it was pretty funny to notice his friend going all slack-jawed over what we were talking about. Well, okay, I was matter-of-fact about it. It was pretty obvious that I didn’t want them for my dog (maybe I’ll get around to that eventually), and I suppose it kinda shocked my friend’s, er, friend.

Maybe because I live in a country that’s staunchly Catholic, and people are still astounded if you say the word “Sex” in public, at a volume anywhere above a whisper.

I don’t understand how people can be so prudish in public yet download gigabyte after gigabyte of internet porn. “Ohmigod! She’s talking about sex!” “She said she has a lover! Isn’t she married? The adulterous slut!”

Hypocrites.

I like sex, and I say so. If you like geraniums, then buy a bumper sticker that declares it. Simple. True. I like everything that has to do with sex, but with the right person. Or persons. I used to be married, and my husband and I remain friends, and we’re still lovers. The man I’m seeing knows everything about me, and he knows that my ex and I still sleep together. My ex knows who I’m with, and that I’m in love, and I’m happier than I’ve ever been in my life. We’re all STD-free, and we’re all very careful about it, because my ex, his lover, my lover and I — we all know that we’re all sexually connected, and we need to protect our partners’ lives as well as our own. Polyamory — or responsible non-monogamy, as other folk like to call it — is a lot of work, but it can be very rewarding.

And I don’t care who knows, because at the end of the day, when my lover and I are lying exhausted in each other’s arms, those custom leather cuffs finally, gently and lovingly removed from my wrists and ankles, it’s going to be just him and me in that bed, and no one else. Well, not yet, so far, but we’ll see.

So spare me your shock and disbelief, because sex is fun, it’s good for you, and you like it too.

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