As of a few days ago, I’m home again. Of my nine weeks away, I spent eight in the UK with my partner. It was a bit of an adventure for me, though some of my energy also went into trying to help him with the crap he was dealing with, and then helping him pack for his move home. He had spent more time there than here over the last three years.
His place was small but it was furnished with some sturdy furniture at good heights. Because the bed was at a different height than the one at home, it provided the opportunity to explore some different angles. The desk, whose top came just below the crease of my hip, was a particular favorite, for me to lie displayed on my back, to present, to be fucked while bent over it, or to be fucked while lying on my back. (That last one only happened once, but if there had been a second time it definitely would have involved pillows. Ouch.) If we end up buying any new furniture, we’d probably want something that’s sturdily fuck-proof.
While I was away, I didn’t blog all that much because much of my writing energy was directed elsewhere, and I didn’t much feel like establishing a routine. Most of the photos I posted were taken either at home ahead of time or during my short business trip. So far I prefer doing the photos by myself; in general, my partner and I are very compatible but that doesn’t seem to extend to photography. We both have some hang-ups still, and things get a little awkward when we try to do photos together. (He loathes having his picture taken, and so he doesn’t much like taking pictures of anyone else either.) Also, the artistic side of the photography is quite important to me and I have fairly clear ideas of what I want the images to look like, so it’s usually easier to just do it myself with the tripod and remote and a bit of experimentation than to explain it. In any event, the light was terrible (except in the well-lit bathroom), so getting usable images was a real challenge.
However, we did occupy ourselves with creating raw material for the blog (not that much of it has actually been blogged). We went through an average of 5 condoms a week (it still blows my mind that that number, more or less, used to be our annual average), and then there was the oral and ‘manual’ sex. We did spend rather a lot of time in bed.
The day we got back, we practically sleepwalked through the door, into the stale air and over the dusty hardwood floors. I immediately unpacked only what I thought I needed between that moment and morning, the priorities being my nightshirt, my toothbrush, and the condoms.