I log into our media player remotely (It’s a mac-mini hooked up to our stereo) and play a song our of the speakers in our bedroom.

Every morning I’m not there I play a song to wake her up and sometimes it’s hard to pick the song.

Every morning I imagine what I would play for her if I was there.  Of course if I was there I wouldn’t play anything since I’d much rather wake her up with my lips.

Sometimes I close my eyes and feel what the morning feels like, what I’m feeling like.  Am I feeling psyched for a new day? Cuddly? Horny?

I’ll log in and browse our music collection.  If the song isn’t there I’ll download it (usually legally).

I’ll click play and slowly turn the volume in the bedroom up.

I’ll imagine her stirring to the begging of the song.  A smile crossing her lips ad hoping that the vibe of the song.  Shortly after she’ll usually call or text me with a smile.

Sometimes the songs are silly-love-songs, sometimes they’re happy, sometimes they’re the songs that let me know I’m missing her.

But they’re all filled with the hope that one day I’ll be able to work from home and cuddle up next to her instead of connecting to her over wi-fi.

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Human furniture is a very popular theme in fashion photography. (Sade said that when I showed her these images, made me sound smart right?).

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There is a point when you are playing at a public party, a point where the world shifts and reality changes.  At first it’s a very small shift but then it widens to envelope everyone in the room but Sade and I.  It muffles them and makes them blurry while Sade becomes clearer to me.  Then there’s a different point. It’s just a little bit further but it’s where everyone in the room disappears.    A point where everyone else just fades away and Sade becomes the only person in the room.

Just another moment layer and that spot becomes bigger and she’s not just the only person in the room bit the only person in the universe.

For a moment it’s just us and there’s nothing better than that feeling.  For a moment there’s no work, no bills to pay or family members to worry about, politics to think about or anything in the universe but her.

It’s peaceful.

I’m sure anyone watching would disagree but it’s one of the few times when my mind isn’t thinking about anything. I don’t need to worry about waking the neighbors with my screams and she doesn’t need to bother them with loud cracks slaps and thuds.

It’s so peaceful, this place with her where there’s noting but us.

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Yes, I’m a very deep sleeper.

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If you have no idea what it is you can take a look here

Well I normally wear boxer briefs but figured they’d be too revealing (sorry ladies of NYC) so I opted for boxers.

The biggest problem with boxers is the cock-flap that opens up in the front.  Its far too easy for something to flop out and if I was going to be on the subway with Sade while she was standing around in her underwear, I knew I’d have a hard time not getting hard as it was.  So I ended up stapling the front flap shut just to be safe.

The whole point of the NPSR is to freak people out by showing up without pants on. You ride for a few stops, get off your train and jump on the very next one.   That way someone who’s not in on it will be watching

I was hoping to see some shocked reactions when we hopped onto our second train but as soon as we walked on it was clear that everyone was in on the joke.  The only person wearing pants in our subway car was a woman who wouldn’t stop giggling while snapping photos of everyone.

We switched trains and jumped on to a train headed downtown.  The station was filled with pants less new Yorkers and it was a bit hard to navigate.  Sade reached down between my legs, grabbed my cock over my boxers and  began to lead me through the sea of people.   She only did it a few times but it felt like much longer.   I immediately regretted not wearing my long coat.  Thankfully there were plenty of big, half naked, hairy guys standing around in their underwear and that acted as a instant erection-killer.

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Tonight I reluctantly kept an appointment with a client about some possible web design work.  I felt bad about leaving her side but knew she’d be fine and I’d only be gone a few hours.

After an hour into my meeting (and a few drinks shoved down my throat by the client) Sade texted me asking for “watermellon halls” upon my return.   Reading that I could tell there was an autocorrect issue with her text message and once the meeting was over I began looking for watermelon balls to cure her unusual craving.  Hell she was sick and her body was telling her she needed watermelon.   Who was I to judge?

Have you ever looked for watermelon balls in January in NYC?   Nope…neither has anyone else.   I went from store to store looking for watermelon and after an hour I finally found a place selling watermelon. “Fuck it.  I’ll make my own balls”.

Finally making it home and proudly presenting her with my hunting and gathering skills, she smiled and explained that no, she actually wanted watermelon flavored Halls cough drops.

No typo, no mixup.  Just an hour of my assuming her phone made a mistake and in her sleepy-haze she didn’t fix it.

Only two days into 2012 and I’m already racking up some odd mistakes.     This is gonna be an interesting year.

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The book chronicles her adventures in the NYC sex party scene.

Originally I was going to include a few excerpts but instead I decided to simply include some of the chapter names:

-Public
-Kinky
-Tease
-Cuckold
-Bondage
-Comeshot
-Squirting
-Hardcore
-Comeshot

And that’s not even half of the chapters.

I asked Mia a few questions I knew her fans would be wondering:

-So what made you decide to go from the podcast taking about your exploits to a book writing about them?

It was a slow and somewhat natural process. I started the podcast because I was interested in producing content in a new media format. And I thought I wouldn’t have much to lose if people didn’t like the podcast. Turns out people liked the podcast. So in time, it made sense to create a book to showcase the stories in long form rather than short form.

-Is it weird that I could read it and I’d still hear your voice? it’s like when I read David Sedaris books, I hear his voice in my head when I read it..but instead of him talking about being and Elf at Macy’s it’s you tailing about sex clubs. Oh shit what if when I’m reading your book I accidentally start reading it in David Sedariss voice?? Fuck! Ok any chance you’re going to make an audiobook version so I can read it in your voice too?

I did include some tips for entering into non-monogamy and swinging at the end of my book. I think the one that I had wish I had known is to set realistic expectations. Just because you are going to a sex party does not mean you will end up having sex. You may want to, but it may not work out for a variety of reasons.

-How hard was it to narrow down what experiences would make it in the book?

Narrowing down the experiences was to a certain extent easy. Basically this book is a smut book. So what got left out? All the details that aren’t related to sex and relationships in relation to sex. There is little about my work life, my friends, my family, etc. that I won’t bore your readers with that here.

-What’s the biggest difference between a creepy guy at a sex party and a sexy guy at a sex party?

Confidence and ability to read body language and signals.

-For a book about exciting sexual experiences in New York, there are surprisingly little mentions of me in this book. Have you been getting many complaints about that?

You know, I have. And the unfortunate thing is I can’t appease the audience because you and I have what is although a lovely friendship, not a steamy one. Except for that one time……

-Are you planing another book? Perhaps a more unspeakableaxe-centric one?

Actually this is a great idea. I would like to fancy myself a journalist and write about you and the lovely Sade.

It was so nice of Mia’s agents, handlers, management and personal security to let me have a few moments of her time to get those questions in.

She also has a whole chapter on “Sex Partying with Success”.

Just one of the many many tips: “As a general rule, don’t touch without asking first, unless suggestive eye contact has been made. In an orgy situation, you can’t always have the negotiation conver- sation about what is allowed, so start slow. Stroke the palm, arm, or head of the person you are looking to get involved with. Don’t go directly for their privates.”

And as an extra super bonus, you’ll get her “Sex Partying with Style: Mia’s Playlist”

The book is available on Nook, Kindle, Ibooks, you name it.

Pick it up here (you’ll also find a preview of the book).

What are you doing still reading this? Go get the book!

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If you’re not familiar with his writing you should pick up his latest collection of essays. Hell you can even look though his old.  He wrote so much and I haven’t even come close to reading everything he did.  Maybe that’s why I don’t have a total sense of loss when I read moments ago that he finally succumbed to cancer.

His debate with Tony Blair is one of the most brilliant examples of how one can use wit to make a point.   It’s a thing of beauty.

I didn’t agree with everything.  He could come across as a pompous ass but even then I liked him when I was hating him.   His stance on the invasion of Iraq for one thing, but the bastard was so smart he almost made me question my pacifism.

Almost.

He made me smarter. Or maybe he just made me sound smarter when I’d try and quote him.   I’ll leave you with a few of my favorites:

There is only one cure for world poverty that has ever been found or ever will and it’s very simple.  And it could be phrased very simply too.    It’s called the empowerment of women.  Go to Bangladesh or Bolivia – I have to ask you to hold your applause though I love you – go to Bangladesh or Bolivia, give women control over their reproduce cycle, throw in a handful of corn if you can, make them not just the beasts of burden and the beasts of childbearing that they’ve become and the floor will rise, it just will.  It never fails anywhere.  Against this one solution, the Catholic Church has set its face.  The efforts of the missionary Church in the Third World mean more people die, not less.  It’s as simple as that.  More famine, more disease, more ignorance, more random and avoidable death.

At another debate alongside his friend (And another hero of mine) Stephen Fry:

I say that homosexuality is not just a form of sex; it’s a form of love and it deserves our respect for that reason.  In fact, when my children were young, I’d have been proud to have Stephen [Fry] as their babysitter and I’d tell them they were lucky.  And if anyone came to my door as a babysitter wearing holy orders, I’d first call a cab and then the police.

And finally, on his beliefs in the face of death.

I will miss him.

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She started by gently stroking my back.  I don’t know if she realizes how much this act calms me.  Sometimes I get nervous at the beginning of play like this.  Years together and I can still feel nervous.  Mostly because I’m worried if I’ll please her, I’m worried that I may not be able to take it for as long as she wants.  I want to make her happy so badly that it messes with my head and psyches me out sometimes.   Her touch helps change that, it helps to remove the worry and turn it into what it should be, about lust and passion and sex and sensuality and about the fuck.

She takes me out of my head.

Sometimes it’s the way she grabs me, the position she puts me in or the way she pulls my head back by my hair.  It could be a smack of my ass or a deep kiss.  I don’t know exactly when it happens but it does.

It’s a matter of just letting go and living in the moment.

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Walking home the other night I spotted a new ad campaign for Skyy Vodka.  They even go as far to print “Kinky was here”.

Feel free to send me any Found Femdom you may have come across.

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