Food.

I am a woman who loves food. While I've read books and books on the subject, it still puzzles me that the dainty, abstaining woman entering our societal consciousness as ideal. The bird woman who pecks at her salad. The fainting femininity. I will have none of it. I do not suggest that we should all eat fast food and live out of vending machines. This is not a love of food, either.

I am a woman who appreciates and enjoys a dining experience. I work hard and I play hard. I like to eat well. I love to travel, and part of my love of traveling is to eat the local cuisine.

Those of you who have been fortunate to session with me know I like to incorporate food. Whether you are on your knees at my side feeding me fresh, perfectly cut fruit, or preparing something for me in hopes of winning my favor. Perhaps you must eat yours off of my feet or from the floor, while I watch.

Food is incredibly sensuous. The dribble of juice winding around the fingers, wetting the lips. Spices so intense and overwhelming, like the pleasure/pain of flogging. Delicate, soft skins and textures, easily crushed between the fingers.

It stirs my passions to imagine all the naughty ways food fits into my play.