Minx liked this picture, although it looks a lot better on a cellphone than a computer screen. Seeing it live and in person is considerably better still. This all reminds me that the brain is a funny device, filling in reality with suppositions whenever it is starved for input. I think everybody has had those moments when they "saw" something only to find, on closer inspection, that what they thought was a stunning brunette was actually a skinny hippie boy wearing a ponytail. A quick glance can actually be more alluring that way.
Close inspection has its place. The shocking red haired bartender, female variety, serving VSK and I Friday night was such a perfect example of pulchritude and physionomic perfection that I couldn't keep my eyes off of her. Lucky for me she had the personality of shitzu or I would have started fawning. I find myself scanning the faces of women more carefully these days, being in the position of having the Minx and the Kitten inspecting me rather carefully seems to have caught on in my day to day interactive activities. I am reining in my flippancy lest I talk myself into some sort of trouble with "the ladies." The two of them will occasionally gang up on me, and not only for my erotic entertainment.
But the sick part of it is, I like to get their goats. Nothing seems to get the Minx more enraged than some causal mention on my part of looking for a new feline to enjoy. She is protective toward VSK, and she might even enjoy watching someone besides me nail my wife, but should I mention I am having lunch with a friend, platonic variety even, her blood begins to boil. Selfishly I wouldn't mind living in a Big Love kind of environment, only one with some hot girl on girl activities, and have suggested mostly facetiously that the Minx and VSK should do the picking. Like that will ever happen. Of course, I never really believed that someone as easy to get along with as the Minx would come along nor could I have fathomed that VSK would have decided that the best way to handle her jealousy would be to embrace it, literally. I think it was Scott over at Mrs. Kelly's Playhouse that said something about turning your issues into turn-ons. That seems right to me, and it pretty much is the essence of most fetish fun. Its probably a larger truth that belongs in a different kind of blog as well. We Americans seem to do this to most things most of the time.
Writing this I wonder if contentment and passion are really two things that go well together. I can say I am content now, and yet when I get that brief glance of some other fine woman I get churned up. To "cool my jets" I find that thinking about having my two fine felines next to me, one under each arm their faces resting on my chest works pretty well. I mean, where would the third one go anyway?