As a new Dom enters our life, it has been suggested that I create and share a journal  as it unfolds, to create an ongoing Blog . I have humbly agreed to do so. This is the first submission.

I hope that our experiences encourage others, too.



When the chopped onions first hit the hot olive oil, the frying pan is pandemonium. The little bits of onion buck and dance wildly as their cell walls rupture, spilling their essential oils into red hot olive oil, filling the room with a promise of something good to eat. For a few seconds, it is pure chaos in that pan. The pieces of onion look as if they want to jump clean out of the skillet. Then, slowly, the hot oil penetrates the cell walls of the onion bits, rupturing them until a resolution sweeps over the pan- a sort of resignation to the inevitable- and the onion bits settle down to simmer together in the oil, grateful to disgorge themselves into the flavor of the roux. It happens all over again, in much the same way, when a cold can of diced tomatoes is introduced to the oil and caramelized onion mixture: a great furor and much frantic boiling around the edges, and then acquiescence, resolution, red sauce.

And so it is when she takes on a new lover. Their first couplings are frantic, explosive, often filled with fumbling and the many sweet little gestures of approval and encouragement that are meant to instruct as well as arouse. The steam and the smell of their spilled cells fills a room. It is fleeting and unique to the newly coupled.

Then, as the weeks roll by, they relax and take on the comfort of lovers, each able to please the other in shorthand, a simmering sauce creating new flavors all their own. She learns his shape and so she can relax, taking him in one long, smooth push clear to the balls if that is the lion’s desire right now. She learns to read the signs to know when he is going to come and she times hers to follow his by just seconds, offering him her gift in his moment of resolution.

From their intense first encounters she learns from his encouragement signals that he likes the little way she lifts her hips to meet him at the depth of his stroke. She learns to love the way he tastes and the way his semen makes her throat feel a little raw for hours.

But this is not then. Not yet, anyway. He came to pick her up for their first date only last Thursday after meeting her in the nearby park, while walking our dog. She gave him the alpha test, almost on a whim, and he quickly and firmly rose to her bait, demanding her phone number- at the very least- on the spot. Now he was in our kitchen, sipping the cocktails that I made for them before they headed out for their first date- dinner with her sister and her lover, Lee. As we make introductions over drinks in the kitchen, I begin to make my dinner by caramelizing an onion, a gesture of capitulation. Clearly, confidently, he takes the cue. Mary is warming to him now, taking her opportunities to touch his arm or hug him from behind.

He tries to make small talk for a few minutes, but it of no use to an alpha to continue doing this for very long. There always comes that ‘So let me get this straight…’ moment. This one, Steven, gets to it right away, as my wife drapes herself across his broad shoulders, explaining to us both exactly what a ‘general contacter’ does in her little girly voice, all the while allowing her hands to explore his chest and stomach from behind. With a nod of his head, he gestures towards Mary, who has now pressed herself into his back, “So, you are okay with this?” I can’t resist. “Well, she is kind of grabby at first, but you get used to it.” We all laugh together and, for the first time, nervousness leaves the room. Giggling, her hand slides down and across his cock, searching out and teasing the head gently as it passes by. It is quick- and almost innocent- but definitive. He is quite big. And she touched him, so now he is certainly entitled to touch her back.

It is a gesture that could have gone unnoticed, but Mary, my kind and loving wife, makes sure that anything that is worth watching is there for me to be a part of too, even if it is only from the corner of my eye. Steven notices this, measures us again, and shows his appreciation of acquiescence with a soft but firm encouragement offered to Mary. ‘Do that again.” She does, slower to demonstrate her desire for his alpha cock without seeming like a whore. It has grown.  Sizzling onions are settling into a simmer.  Ten seconds later, “We better go. Sis will be waiting for us.”

At this point, I should stop to point out that the foursome dinner date is a bit if a fib. It gives Mary the opportunity to see what her sister thinks of the new man while introducing him to the agreeable husband beforehand. The sisters have a ruse in this ritual, whereby one will call to say they are running late, and then arrive only in time for dessert and coffee. This gives the my wife and her man a chance to pair bond outside of the pressure of meeting a potentially judgemental sister. Once the subtle and appropriate signals are transmitted and received between them, Mary brings him back home to consummate their relationship in our bed, in front of me, as I sit in a chair in the darkened corner, silent and transfixed. At first, it is all furious and clumsy. They are frantic, sweet, powerful in their first several fuckings. When he came right back for her on Friday, and then spent the entire weekend inside of her, all over our house, their sauce was made.