I have some sweet boys to torment today, and then I'm shooting with Tommy Edwards tomorrow. And let me tell you, posing for Tommy is work. Or an experience in masochism, or something. He twists you into some insane pose, says "Don't move", and then starts twiddling with the lights, while you're standing there in four-inch heels with your shoulder where your kidneys usually are, every major muscle group trembling with the effort of holding the position.
But then when you see yourself in the photo, the pose looks so natural, as if you were perfectly relaxed and at ease. Such is Tommy's brand of painful magic. He's extremely good at what he does.
Saturday evening I'm going to a new erotic event being put on by my pal Jeff Hengst and his Little Red Studio troupe. I'm actually taking Roman to that instead of Max, since Max already had a play date booked with a certain dark-haired elfin cutie. And that's sort of sweet, since Saturday is actually the one-year anniversary of my first date with Roman.
And then on Sunday Roman and I are going off to spend two days alone, here.
We'd decided we wanted to spend a weekend at a very private little cottage somewhere. I was originally thinking of a renting a beach house, but I ran across the website for this little mountain cabin on the Skykomish river and liked the looks of it. It's quite secluded, which was a big selling point. We're going spend two days just relaxing and hanging out in quiet and privacy.
(With maybe just a little noisy
(Okay, maybe a lot.)
Anyway, Roman's been menu-planning for days, since he is the designated chef. It's a good thing I'm shooting before we go, because I bet we both gain a pound or two. The cabin has an internet connection, so perhaps we'll do a weekend update. Or maybe not, if we're all tied up.