The fascinating life of a sex blogger…

Did I suck you in with that?  Were you hoping for lurid tales of public sex and parties with fancy people?  Or maybe hours-long intimate sessions with my vast collection of sex toys?  Or.. or… yeah, no.  It did kinda seem like that for a couple of years, but things have settled down.  The birth of my second daughter slowed me down considerably.

I am trying very hard to be a writer and a blogger, though, and the latter is suffering more from inattention than the former.  I’ve got several stories in the works, but they all have potential to be submitted to publishers over the next several months, so I’m not popping them out on the blog.  Now, in terms of my goal to be published, this is good, but for the readers of this blog who stuck around for the smut, it’s not so good.

As for the glamorous life of a writer… well I don’t have that either.  I’m sitting here, on the couch between my two daughters.  One will be heading to bed in a half hour or so, the other will be up for a while longer, hopefully not too late.  My wife has been in bed, suffering from a migraine all day, so I haven’t had a chance to sit down and do anything requiring focus since this morning.  And writing requires focus.  Unless it’s this rambling kind of writing.

I have vivid fantasies of sitting in a quiet space engineered to be conducive to writing, focusing, diving deep, but instead I find myself squeezing my writing in between meetings, or at the ragged end of the day when everyone else is occupied or asleep and I’m putting off my bedtime.  I’m trying to become more proficient at producing something meaningful in a half hour, or an hour if things are really going well.

My not-so glamorous life as a writer is all tangled up with my life as a family man and a guy with a career and some volunteer obligations.  But I still have the same perverted imagination you’ve all come to know and love.  Between diaper changes and dish washing, on my way to work and while doing the all the tasks of every day life, I’m mentally perverting the spatulas in the kitchen, and the chair in the dining room, and the tailgate of my truck.  I have so many ideas and way too little time, and I really need to find a sustainable way to be a working guy and a parent and a writer and a blogger.

And I haven’t even told you about my big idea.  We’ll do that another time.  For now, take care, stay perverted and sexy and gender defiant.  I love you all.

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One Response to The fascinating life of a sex blogger…

  1. Roxy says:

    Though the moments are shorter now, I love the little chances I get to inject even more sexy into your day. You’re still the same incorrigible Kyle I fell for, and I love snickering over dirty stories and outrageous suggestions with you in between the snow shoveling and the trips to Costco.

    You’re still the sexy blogger/writer I fell for, baby (and feel for, as my fingers wanted to type.)

    Tell your fingers I approve of their version 😉

    Thank you, lover. Sometimes I’m just a bit depressed and frustrated by the notion that the sexy/dangerous/exciting is being pushed out of my life by diaper changes and scheduling auto shop appointments and all that. And that’s before at bunch of snow fell and took out the power and threw our routine off around here. So, thank you for continuing to see all the dirty, dangerous, flirty, perverse sexiness you fell in love with (that’s not love!)… I’m working on seeing it in myself again. Love you, baby, thank you – K

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