Kink in exile

Notes from a kinky nomad

Things I don’t talk about…

…at least not in polite company.

I don’t talk the moment when I came out to my mom, certain I was a lesbian because I hate that I was wrong as much as I love sucking cock.

I don’t talk about learning to eat fire with the Lesbian Avengers or that I learned about BDSM in that context because those were also the years when I learned that women can be abusers, and that I’m not supposed to say that.

I don’t talk about marching in DC, protesting the World Bank, or getting arrested because that is not an accurate description of the person I am; though perhaps the combined fact that I protested the World Bank at home and later worked with State Department and World Bank funds in 3rd world reality starts to paint that picture.

I don’t talk about why you can’t pin me to the bed and pry my thighs open, in part to save you the trouble, and in part because dear god I wish you could, because that is so very hot – except when it isn’t.

Written by kinkinexile

May 8, 2012 at 10:07 pm

Posted in headspace

One Response

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  1. I liked this post a lot. Perhaps because it mirrors the complex, resilient, somewhat private, not-entirely-sure-of-herself-but-trying-damn-hard-to-do-the-right-thing-not-to-mention-figure-out-what-the-hell-that-thing-even-is-in-the-first-place Alisa who I’ve been enjoying getting to know over the past few months. Thanks for being vulnerable and for being visible. Look forward to talking with you soon! 🙂


    May 9, 2012 at 11:03 am

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