Intangible Gifts

People give each other presents all the time. Sometimes those presents can be seen, held and even wrapped. Some presents, on the other hand, have little or no physical reality at all.

I was once given a poem. Actually over the years, I’ve been given several, some of them even written by the donor, but this one was extra special. I used to sit, curled up on the bed, listening to it being read for me by someone special. I’ve treasured it ever since. It’s actually a gift which later became tangible, when he gave me a book containing that same poem.

Similarly I have been given music. Sometimes in physical form on cassette, sometimes merely through a shared listening. Many of those songs are special to me still. Nobody’s ever written a song specifically for me yet, mind you. Feel free to try.

Rarely I am given a place, a location with some special significance, they too remain in my heart forever.

Don’t get me wrong, I love opening big, brightly wrapped boxes and finding out what’s inside. But the gifts which leave the biggest impression are those given from the heart.

And so, the poem in question still moves me, and I still think very fondly of the man who read it to me, so long ago. Let me share it with you all. Another intangible gift.

Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

by W. B. Yeats

It’s Not What You Do

It’s not what you do, it’s the way that you do it.

I had my first serious boyfriend at seventeen. When we were finally alone together, we started kissing and getting naked, and generally exploring each other’s bodies. I kissed my way down the length of his torso, so naturally when I got to his cock, I kissed that too. I had no expectations at all, merely touching and sucking in a way that felt good to me, and that seemed to be getting a good reaction. When he came, I made a wonderful discovery. Cum tastes like the froth on a pint of Guinness, and I love Guinness. I swallowed. Well, what else would one possibly do?

In recent times, as a submissive, oral sex has been something I have come to consider as an integral part of my submission. It is often the first thing commanded of me in play, although I sometimes pre-empt the command slightly, foreseeing the demand. Even when done spontaneously, fellatio feels like an act of service, a submissive giving of pleasure. My enjoyment in the act for its own sake is swallowed up in my desire to please.

Different relationships it turns out, have different rules. There I was, with my boy, kissing, exploring. His cock was in my hand, hard and smooth, and I knew I wanted to taste it. For once, no sense of obedience or fulfilling expectation, merely my desire to enjoy him in a way which pleased me. I crouched down, taking him in my mouth, delighting in the feel and taste of him, and the moans of pleasure from above me. In that moment I felt a real sense of dominance, taking what I wanted from him, in the way I chose.

I wonder how an observer would have interpreted what was happening, superficially viewing those actions. Our roles within that invisible except to us, defined by dynamics and emotions they could not know.

Remember, what you see may not always be what you think.

Don’t Be My Valentine

I don’t do Valentines day.

Certainly I have done in the past. When Perrin and I were first together we went through the usual routine; cards, presents, dinner. Each year though it became harder to be ‘more romantic’ than the last and let’s face it, nobody wants to be accused of being less romantic than they used to be.

Humpty Dumpty had the right idea.

“To be sure I was!” Humpty Dumpty said gaily, as she turned it round for him. “I thought it looked a little queer. As I was saying, that seems to be done right—-though I haven’t time to look it over thoroughly just now—-and that shows that there are three hundred and sixty-four days when you might get un-birthday presents—-”

“Certainly,” said Alice.

“And only one for birthday presents, you know. There’s glory for you!”.

It’s the everyday love that really counts. It’s the coffee which Perrin gets out of bed to make for me every morning which means so much, not champagne once a year. (We do drink champagne rather more often than that it’s true). It’s the hugs and support when life is tough. It’s the laughing with me, the holding hands, the adventures planned and enjoyed together, and the confidence he gives me to explore on my own.

The same is true for the other special people in my life too. It’s the time they take to spend with me that matters. It’s the hugs they send when I’m feeling down, even though they can’t be there in person. It’s the smile when we meet, and the kiss when we part.

By the same token, if they don’t already know how I feel then I have failed them. No cards and flowers can help on one day a year if they don’t feel loved already.

The question is not “how do I tell them I love them today”, but “did I show them how I felt yesterday, and how can I show them tomorrow”?

Not that anybody but Perrin would consider me a Valentine if I did do it, of course, but I hope the people I care for know who they are all the same.


I recently asked a lovely young lady for a date (hello, if you are reading this!). Sadly it was declined, but it got me thinking about how my views on dates have changed since my youth.

I last seriously dated in my university days, back in 199*mumble*. The (few) dates I had back then seemed to be much more a prelude to, shall we say, bedroom activities. They were nice, involved lots of snogging, and not that much talking.

Oddly, they, almost exclusively ended up in long-term relationships, despite this!

I’ve been married now for ten years, to the lovely Caitlin, who I have never dated at all. Due to various circumstances, related earlier in this blog, she went from being friend who I was in love with (and married to someone else), to girlfriend I was living with, with no time for dates in between.

My desires for a date have most definitely changed. The urgent, “lets get somewhere private” has definitely receded, and I’m now very much looking for an evening of flirty, interesting conversation, good food and wine, and above all, both parties enjoying an evening out.

And, for a first date, I’d not be wanting anything else to happen either. Something my full-of-hormones 18 year old self would have trouble understanding.

I’ve not asked many people for a date, and only two since in the last 12 years. I think I need some practice.


I have, in pretty much every relationship I’ve had, been either living with the other person, or (at university) been sleeping with them pretty much every night. I think that has caused me some problems in the few relationships I’ve had that didn’t fit this model.

I was a late starter, relationship wise. But when I did finally get a steady girlfriend (call her E), the relationship lasted over a year. Not bad for someone I met in the queue to open a bank account in my first day of university. With E, we had a pretty intense relationship in which we spent almost every night together during the term, and had a few empty weeks missing each other over the holidays.

This was a pattern I was to repeat though my years at university.

When Caitlin and I got together, due to circumstances, she moved straight in with me, and we can’t have spent more than a handful of nights apart since. This has left me, I feel with a slightly different view of relationships to lots of people. As we were thrust together so suddenly, and while very much desired, also quite unexpectedly, we had to cope with all the stresses of living together, with none of the being able to retreat to our own houses for some space.

We really wanted it to work, and so we talked through all the problems and arguments; something that aides us today as we embark on our open relationship.

So, back to the subject. Amy, our girlfriend, does not live that close, and can’t visit nearly as often as we’d all like. So for the first time in my life, I’m having to have a relationship at a distance. Its been very enlightening, and has made me think lots about how I view trust and jealousy.

I, of course, trust Caitlin. We’ve shared so much that it really couldn’t be otherwise. With Amy, though, I’ve had to accept that I’m not there all the time, and have to trust her.

I do, by the way!

Its something that probably comes naturally to most people, but is not something I’ve had to deal with up to now. Amy also has her own life to lead, distinct from Caitlin and mine.

This physical distance also means that contact is quite different to the time I spend with Caitlin. When Amy is with us, the time is finite, and feelings and touches something to savour, as there will be a gap before they can be repeated. It makes for very interesting times.

I’m very happy.