If you’re new here, welcome! If you’re returning, welcome back!

Looking for my most recent posts?  Scroll down a bit. 

*This* is a sticky post. (Keep comments about the stickiness of *your* post to yourself, please.) It was the first post I wrote on this blog space and it’s a permanent fixture on my home page for two reasons: (1) It clearly outlines my rules (please read them if you haven’t already), and (2) It helps a very specific group of people find me.

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Of a new blog…


Because of my Exodus from the Blogland I formerly called home.  (A.F.F. anyone?  Beuller?  Beuller?  Anyone…?  Beuller…?  Feverpitch60 has left the building…)

So.  Genesis because of Exodus.

Perhaps you were thinking along the line of Leviticus?  Deuteronomy?  Numbers?

Think again.  ;-)

There will be no commandments, but there will indeed be RULES.  And while I can’t promise to stay on topic (sex, love, gardening, pet ownership…one thing leads to another, I’m afraid…and all topics eventually lead back to sex ~ it’s a hazard of being a certain age, I think), I can promise that there will be…erm…language…and photos (if I can figure out how to upload them) and occasional glimpses at my mind, body (yes, I’m an exhibitionist), and soul.  Oh!  And my funny bone.  :)

I’d like to say all are welcome.  But really, you should be over 18.  And you will have to adhere to the rules.

Oh dear, you are thinking, with all this talk of rules…  Is she a (gulp) Domme?

Yes!  (Insert evil laugh and whip-cracking noise here.)

Well, actually…

No.  Not really.  I mean…

Let’s save this discussion for another time, shall we?  ;)  The reason for the rules is more along the lines of preventative maintenance.  I learned the…hard way (heh)…on my previous blog that internet anonymity can sometimes bring out the worst in people.

So without further ado…


1.  I am a PERSON.  Not an OBJECT.  Treat me as such.  (Or you will not be welcome here.)

2.  While I’m usually pretty fun-loving and don’t take things too seriously, I am still a REAL PERSON with REAL FEELINGS.  Treat me as such.  (Or you will not be welcome here.)

3.  While I may talk about sex on this blog, that does not give you the right to treat me like a sex worker.  I am a WOMAN.  I am MARRIED to a REAL PERSON with REAL FEELINGS.  Respect us as such.  (Or you will not be welcome here.)

Also, don’t steal stuff. Creative Commons Attribution License applies. Read that, and this, before you borrow from me.

These rules apply to ALL interactions and exchanges, including but not limited to blog comments and other bitland conversations.  Anyone who feels they cannot follow these rules is free to leave at any time.  Deliberate ignorance of these rules will result in banishment from the Land of Fever.

Mrs. Fever has spoken.

So it has been written; so it shall be done.

QR3: Pulling At Threads

It is the end of the quarter.  How does that happen?

September Convo

Yes, I really *do* have conversations like this. Because.

At the beginning of the year, I decided to engage in a minor metacognitive exercise and started – on a quarterly basis – to actively look for common threads in my writing by *thinking about* what I think about (which, in this instance, translates to ‘write about’). Since this is a blog (an un-themed one, at that), and I wanted a consistent random sample, I began by utilizing “most-viewed” as the initial selection criteria (explained here), and then sought common threads and began pulling.  This is largely a thinking exercise for me (and your thoughts are welcome if you wish to share them – brains are SO sexy!), but for you it’s more along the lines of a quarterly review.

If you haven’t been around for a while, or are new here, and want a starting point or a direction to tread, this is a good place to begin.  Otherwise, this is basically a self-indulgent contemplative activity.  Feel free to skip it.


Typically, there is not much in the way of topical themes (unless you consider ‘sex’ a theme – but to me that is incredibly broad in scope) on this blog, but this time that there were two.  First:  I hosted a series on Coming Out at the beginning of July, and four of the top posts from this quarter came from those contributions.  The other theme that was clear this quarter was non-monogamy.  Two of the Coming Out posts addressed the topic, I was interviewed by another blogger on the subject, and I added some additional thoughts just a few days ago.

Other than that, the posts that garnered the most attention this quarter were:  (1) the discussion I shared about fantasies (it turns out I don’t really have fantasies – which doesn’t mean I don’t know what I want; I do), (2) my instructions for kissing, and (3) one of my favorite quotes.

Interestingly (to me, anyway), four of the posts from this quarter are now on the Readers’ Recommendations list (if you’re on the home page, you can see this list in the side bar, and if you want to set up a similar ‘popular posts’ list on your own blog, I gave instructions here), and I am pleasantly surprised (if slightly baffled) by that.  I’m still trying to figure out how the ‘Likes’ versus ‘Views’ thing works in terms of numbers; it is one of the great mysteries of the universe that there can be such a discrepancy between the two.


That’ll do.

We will soon return to our regular programming.


Adventures in Non-Monogamy

DISCLAIMER:  This post is a bit of a hodge-podge, and it came about because in reading the struggles some of my fellow bloggers are currently experiencing with non-traditional relationship structures, it has occurred to me that I might have something worthwhile to share on this topic.  However – I am not an expert.  I am not a psychologist, a life coach, a circus entertainer, a tantric sex guru, a marriage counselor, a fortune teller, or a magic 8 ball.  This is not advice.  (I loathe advice.)  I am simply a human being, and I am sharing information gleaned from my personal experiences.

NOTICE:  This post has been written with positive intentions.  Anyone who reads and responds in kind is welcome.  If you need further clarification on blog etiquette, please refer to The Rules.  If you wish to be an asshat, just go away.

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A while back, I answered some interview questions related to polyamory and non-monogamy that were sent to me by the host/author of a blog that focuses on the topic.

Note:  I said I answered some questions.

There were several questions I did not answer.  Like, What led you to ethical non-monogamy?  And, What’s the most challenging thing in your relationship(s)?  Or how about, What one thing (or things) did you learn along your ethical non-monogamy journey that really helped you?


Velkrjw sdkj wiel an i wekrj jso rlekj, qpoiuer buti sliekr.

I think if I had answered any of those questions for my interview, I would probably have sounded a bit like that.^

And y’all would have been like, “Please sprechen ze English!”


I may be able to articulate my answers to those questions a bit more clearly at this point, even if it’s in a slightly round-about way.  Because a lot of things have changed for me over the past few months, both in and out of my marriage, and in dealing with those changes, I’ve come to realize that I’ve actually gotten GOOD at some of this relationship stuff.  (Gasp!)

So.  Let’s give this a go, shall we?

Q:  What led you to ethical non-monogamy?

Short Answer:  I recognized that I have needs/wants/desires that are unlikely to be met by one (and only one) partner, and I made the conscious decision to be up front about that instead of either (a) reamaining unfulfilled and/or always wondering What if…?, or (b) cheating.

Long(er) Answer:  When I first met my husband, we became fast friends, and I was dating fucking two guys (separately – the MFM threesome thing didn’t happen til much later) at the time.  I called them “the boys” and my activities with them were not kept a secret from him.  What I had with each of them…  It wasn’t worth keeping.  The long and short of it is, I ditched them both in favor of pursuing a more meaningful and intimate relationship with the man (see the difference there?) who became my husband.  So the concept of having multiple partners, and openly sharing about those partners, was not an imaginary/abstract/what-if when we got together.  It was a reality.  And, frankly, the idea that it takes more than one man to satisfy me was (and still is) and immense turn-on for him.  We did the whole cleaving-only-unto-each-other thing for several years ~ though “only unto you” was intentionally NOT part of our marriage vows ~ and then one day I said to him (I’m paraphrasing an hours-long conversation here), “I need something more.”

And we took it from there.

Or, perhaps it would be more accurate to say:  We stumbled forward from there.

{There is a much MUCH longer answer, but I have neither the time nor the inclination to get into The Story Of My Life.}

Here’s the thing…

Everybody who moves into non-monogamy ~ regardless of the form it takes (swinging, one-sided open/hall pass, NSA only, polyamory, etc) ~ from a conventionally structured relationship thinks they know what their limits will be or what their feelings will be or what they want to do/try and how they wish to proceed.

nope buttonUhmmm…  Really?

You think you know it all?  Really?!?

Let me tell you right now:  NOPE.

That’s a big nope.

Another nope:  I would caution anybody who is thinking about pursuing multiple relationships or exploring with ancillary partners to put their list of 14,391 Rules and Regulations for Basking In My Awesomeness away.  Put them away.  For one thing, you don’t know what your boundaries truly are until they are pushed.  And for another, throwing your rulebook at a potential partner and just expecting them to nod and go along and everything will be fine – without taking into consideration *their* perspective(s) – is just plain immature, selfish, prima donna assholery. (Unicorn hunters are notorious for this.)  Get over yourself.  Seriously.

Plus:  The Feels.

They kinda suck.

And, information overload.  Yeah, there’s that too.  There will be “Why didn’t he?” and “What did she…?” and “Why didn’t you tell me?” and “Dear GOD, I didn’t want to know that!” and sometimes there will be all those things AT THE SAME TIME.  It’s a veritable tilt-a-whirl of thrilling emo joyous angst.

As I said to someone else recently:

It’s so hard to know exactly what you will need (and need to know) until you are in it.  No matter how open, accepting, supportive you are, etc – there are still unexpected pangs, old wounds, and just plain genuine wanting everything to be okay.  I surprise myself with my reactions to things sometimes, both with my un-botheredness in some situations and my emo messiness in others.  It’s not ever the same, and sometimes I’ll have polar opposite reactions to the same situations/players from one meet to the next.  My husband is much the same.

That’s not to say that you shouldn’t have limits.  You should.

But really, you can “if, then” yourself to death and set up “this is okay, but this is not” all you want.  And you should discuss those things.  Please discuss those things.  Ad nauseum.  And then discuss them some more.


No matter what scenarios you come up with and solutions you decide on and what you *think* you will feel/want/do/say/not-fuck-up…  It doesn’t change the fact that once there is a flesh-and-blood person (or people) added to the equation – as opposed to the *idea* of a person – all that pre-planning and pre-assuming will have to be re-thought (and re-hashed, and RE-re-hashed, and hashtagged) ASAP.  Because for every red flag there will be insane chemistry, and for every “Wow, she has a beautiful ass” there will be a “Whoa, he is SUCH an ass!”

There is really no such thing as cut-and-dry when it comes to non-monogamous explorations (excepting, of course, one’s hard limits), and while all the “Poly is GREAT!” and “Everything is FINE!” people will just repeat the mantra of “Communicate, communicate, communicate!”, nobody really talks about how.fucking.HARD that is.  And in the material I’ve come across, it is also rarely acknowledged that there is a year’s worth of “This hurts like fuck” before anyone gets to five minutes of “This is great!”

But there are ways to work through it.

AGAIN:  I’m not giving advice.  I’m just sharing.

Some general guidelines that work for me:

  • Be clear, concise, and consistent in communication.
  • Set hard limits, but keep them minimal and realistic.
  • Put the important things in writing, even if it is a simple email.  It is helpful to have something concrete to fall back on, and to work forward from.
  • Have agreed-upon expectations, but realize that people rarely fit into the little boxes we make for them.  Be prepared to (re-)negotiate expectations with all parties and to NOT PROCEED (exercise some self-control!) unless/until all parties are in agreement.
  • Only move as fast as the slowest person in the relationship is willing/able to move.
  • Never go along with something you don’t agree with, or that doesn’t feel right to you.  You need to be able to respect yourself in the morning.
  • Share what you feel, even if it doesn’t make sense.
  • Respect other people’s feelings, even if they don’t make sense to you.  An emotion is a fact, and you can only make informed decisions if you have all the facts.
  • Tell the truth, even when it hurts.
  • Never lie.  NEVER.  Especially by omission.

Regarding that last one…

Sometimes omissions are unintentional.  They are simple things.  Things that would, in any other circumstance, be no big deal.

Yeah.  Sometimes it's like that.

Yeah. Sometimes it’s like that.

Things like trying a new food or visiting a specific landmark or shopping at a particular store.  The hurts these things cause may seems silly.  But feelings are not trivial, and sometimes the fact that you forgot to mention that you tried pad thai when you were out with your boyfriend will upset your husband, because he has been after you to try pad thai for three years but every time you visit your favorite Thai restaurant with your spouse, you have better things to do than taste his spicy noodleness.

These things are easy enough to get over.

But there are other things that get omitted, glossed over, or outright lied about that are not easy to get over.  Big things.  Things that betray trust and slice open our deepest wounds.

And you know what?  A lot of times those omissions are made because the person who loves us *doesn’t* want to hurt us.  How’s that for irony?

To quote myself:

The instinct to “protect” by *not* sharing, by filtering due to trying to head off hurt…

Yeah, I get that. I get the motivation behind the silence and I get the hurt when something minor is discovered. I’ve been on both sides, and I’ve learned that it’s the littlest things that cause the biggest hurts. I’ve also learned that there are often hidden ‘wants’- things we may not have previously acknowledged or even noticed about our desires – that can feel like huge mountains to climb, and when our partners want something with someone else that we wanted but never realized/discussed/explored… It gets complicated quickly.

I’m in a relationship right now with someone who is new to being open, and some things have come up recently that have made me go, “Ouch!” It’s never what you expect it to be. Not the reality (versus the oh-so-carefully-planned Rules of Engagement) and not the trigger points (positive OR negative).

But there are also pitfalls to oversharing.

What I need to know varies depending on the situation and the people involved.  I am pretty good at assimilating information and rolling with the changes as long as I have a general outline of where things stand and how people feel, and am informed/included as things progress.

My husband…  Well, let’s just say he processes information very differently than I do. When we first opened up our marriage, he wanted (and was granted) full access to all my communications with other people.  And that worked.  For about five minutes.  And then it went to hell.  (Think:  selective listening applied to multi-modal communication.)  So we had to change that, PDQ.

We’ve had to change a lot of things over time.

Because people change.  Relationships change.

Desires/curiosities/interests/fetishes/intensity of feelings/libido/insert-noun-here change.

Change is pretty much the only constant in life and love.

P.S.  All that changing?  It’s not easy.  And it happens with everyone.  So don’t think you can just figure things out with your spouse and that’s all you need to do.  Nope! You’re just getting started.  You have to figure things out with everyone you’re involved with.  Everyone.  Separately and together.  It is, quite frankly, a metric fuckton of work.  So If you’re not good at that kind of work (talking, listening, engaging, respecting, negotiating, compromising, etc), or not willing to become good at that kind of work, non-monogamy is probably not for you.

Holy schloamoly, this is a long post.

‘Kayso, I think all that gobbledy-gook pretty much covers the “things I learned” and “challenges” portion of the program.

There are a gazillion more things I could say, but I think it’s your turn now.



I lie awake, enveloped in the pre-dawn dark, thoughts wandering and limbs restless.  My mind and body are of one accord – both are determinedly ON – and despite my exhaustion I cannot will myself to sleep.  Far too tantalizing are the fantasies that fixate my attention, as well too damning the doubts that plague me, and I find myself wondering – not for the first time – what it is you want.

“You” is not the answer (though I want you too).

But what, love, do you want?

I want…

Impossible things.

Beautiful, filthy, terrible, dirty, frightening things.

But I am also a lover of simple things, sweet and seductive, and I want….

Oh, I want.

I want to taste.  The salt of your skin, the wet of your mouth, the hard of your arousal.

I want to feel.  The heat of your touch, the firm of your grip, the urgency of your need.

I want to wake your lust, to own it, to drive you to the edge again and again, to make you shake with need for me, to hear your pleas – your please – and draw them out, to savor your response from dawn til dusk.

I want to burn with you, to feel the heat in my belly and the flush in my skin, the scorch of your mouth on my nipples, the combustion of our bodies coming – cumming, again and again – together.

I want to hear you beg.  For mercy.  For more.  To stop.  To not.  To cum.

I want you to cum for me.

I want you to make me cum for you.

I want your name on my lips to be sweet music to your ears, and mine on yours to be your favorite song.

I want…

Oh, how I want.

I want to feel you suckle me.  To feel the flat of your tongue lave my nipples, pulling gently in a kneading rhythm, as though your sole (soul) sustenance depends on it.

Drink me.

Eat me.


Delve inside my creamy wet and taste my desire on your tongue.

Fill me.

Stretch me.

Push me.

I want…

I want your fingers, your mouth, your lips, your tongue, your cock.  I want your tenderness and your tenacity, your fears, your fantasies.  Your time.  Your touch.

I want to leave my mark you.  To do, with you, things that are new for us both.

I want to rock you to sleep at night.  And in the morning, with your cock heavy and hard – for me, inside me – I want to feel you rock me awake.

I want to hear your shudders and sighs, your sharp intakes of breaths and long exhales, your whimpers, your moans.

I want…

So many things.

I want you.

So many ways.

Tell me…

What do you want?


Soft sweeps of air feather over my fevered skin, the rotating blades above the bed providing sweet relief from the heat burning inside of me.

Half asleep, my fingers become yours, tracing tender lines along my flesh. Lightly I stroke in a steady counter-rhythm to the gentle swoosh-swoosh of the ceiling fan; up, down, and up again, every fingertip dip an erotic demand. My hands follow the path I will soon offer your mouth, and I imagine your lips, swollen from my kisses, trailing cool fire everywhere I touch.

Start here, I think, in silent demand, as I taste my own lips, wishing for yours.

My breaths grow ragged under my own ministrations:  lips, cheek, collarbone, breast, nipple…




Start here, I think, as though I can will you to join me from where you are, to journey with me across the vast landscape from one pair of lips to another.

Start here, baby, I think, drifting now in drowsy arousal, stroking ever lower in a tantalizing tease.

Start here.

And please…


Don’t stop.


Pittsburgh, 1994.

The memory assaults me repeatedly, a soft-focused film reel sharpening in moments of stark relief, punctuated by the rat-tat-tat of the night’s gunfire rain hurling against windowpanes.

An overpass.

Stuck in traffic, wide eyed, watching.

A car on the narrow street below, the first in a long row, systematically stripped, with breathtaking precision. Wheels, stereo, door handles, battery. Then on to the next.

The breathtaking exactitude of brute force.

A ballet of devastation.

Unable to sleep, I see the same scene unfold repeatedly.

An insomniac’s intuition.

I stare into the dark, listening to the wind echo the howl I hold inside.

The sickening aftermath of betrayal burns deep in my gut, all these years later, and every time I close my eyes I see that vintage metal coffin, once shiny and new, tranformed in a matter of moments to so much junk. No way to get through to the silent inside (unless, of course, you’re willing to shatter her glass), and impossible to move.

It was preventable.

(All painful experiences are.)

Yet hindsight is not foresight.

Perhaps things are fixable.

But, stalled in place, unable to spin absent wheels, realization dawns quietly in the morning’s dissolution of the storm:

It matters not that what’s been wrecked can be rebuilt. Replacement parts will never make you whole.


He sends me a photo of baby smooth cheeks turned upward by a half-smile from soft seductive lips, and recalling the beard that formerly framed his face, a reminiscence stirs. A memory we have not yet made – tender and sharp, spun from longing and trust – gathers in gossamer strands, forming a clear picture in my mind’s eye.

Soaped skin and blade.

“I think I would like that,” he says.

And I smile, counting the days.


It’ll be a close shave.


When my thighs shake more fiercely than my ragged breaths,

When my nipples ache, dark with the throb of my heartbeat, and my hips are painted with the bruised colors of your fingertip grip,

When my whole body trembles at your touch and I whimper at the whisper of your lips,

When I am spent and sated from the dance of your tongue, the tease of your teeth, the demand of your fingers,

When the wet of your mouth has drenched us both and the slightest shiver of air leaves its traces in goosebumps on my skin,

When I have taken (been given) all the pleasure you think I can,

There is only one thing I need from you, love.

Only one thing (pleasepleaseplease):