Kink, Pizza and Jazz

OK, so I’m kind of a hypocrite. I mean, I’ll talk about no longer going to sex parties and then I’ll go to sex parties. I’ll talk about not really being interested in kink, and then I get involved in BDSM entanglements. I’ll say one thing and do another. I’ll do one thing and then say something completely different. But, who hasn’t contradicted themselves at some point in their lives? The only thing I can say is that I won’t deny being a hypocrite and I’ll at least be honest (here and with people in person) about who I am and what I want at each point in life.

Which brings me back to kink, again. I’m still somewhat involved in the fetish scene in New York and am friends with a lot of kinksters, though I haven’t really engaged in a lot of kinky activities of late and haven’t really sought to (OK, there was that one time I finally tried being whipped at a Hacienda party recently. Yes, I liked it). I’ll often date vanilla people and tell them that, yes, this is a part of my life in some way, but I don’t actually need it in the sack. Though when new opportunities for kinky scenarios with interesting partners present themselves, I get somewhat bright eyed and bushy tailed again. Neither sentiment is untrue, really. So what gives? I’m not sure.

I think I feel about kink the way I feel about pizza and jazz. I like it and will do it (eat it, listen to it) when it’s there, but won’t usually seek it out on my own.

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