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I spent my formative years in several different states, school districts, and houses. The bulk of which, however, was in a farm house and small school in western Ohio. A large, rural community with almost exclusively conservative undertones. As much as my parents ingrained their own liberal values, I was (I realize now) constantly affected by the societal expectations of my community.
Fast-forward to present day. I have a BDSM relationship with my husband and we have decided to open up our marriage. So, what do I do? I jump in with both feet. I had been talking with Jack from Jack and Jill for a long time on twitter. When the chance arose to meet him and his wife for a few days of fun I didn’t waste time considering outcomes. I went to California earlier this month and had a fabulous time.
The problem is, however, that I had a fabulous time. Jack and I connected on more than just a sexual level. We had more in common that I would have guessed. We just clicked. I’ve never laughed and orgasmed so much in two short days.
But when I left for Los Angeles, and even more so when I got home, I became confused and scared. What did our new relationship mean? Was I special or just another conquest for him? Would he ever want to see me again? How can I really ask him to consider me a part of his life when we live across the country and he has so many other partners?
Sir and I talked about my distress. And he mentioned something that really made me step back for a moment. He said “society leads women to believe that to be successful in a relationship they have to ‘land’ a man. There has to be commitment solidified, especially if sex is involved”. At first I wanted to argue with him, but in the case of my family and community, he was right. And I think that’s why I couldn’t help feeling like I failed with Jack.
Society was telling me that Jack should have been falling all over himself to propose to me. Telling me that our sex was the best he ever day. Which, a) he’s happily married, and b) if he told me I was the best sex I probably wouldn’t have believed him anyway. In order for it to have been a societal success he would have promised me something (I’m not even sure I understand what that would have had to have been).
But all relationships don’t fit into this fairy tale mold. Open relationships are fluid. People can have an enormous impact on your life and you may only see them a few times a year. Just because Jack cannot be a physical presence in my life everyday doesn’t mean that he isn’t special. And it doesn’t mean that he doesn’t care about me. We just have to find a way to rework those ‘traditional’ perimeters of what we are to each other.
More importantly, however, I need to let go of these assumptions about what we can and cannot be. Labels have always bothered me, but I do hate it when I don’t understand where I stand with someone. Society would have enough trouble accepting my married with a lover status. Trying to find a definition of what being a ‘lover’ means outside of cheating is impossible.
Jack and I had a wonderful time. I also enjoyed the time spent with Jill in the evenings. Jack and I consider each other lovers and I’m sure we will find a way to see each other again. I’m going to try my best to leave it at that and not pressure him for more or demand less from myself. Society, and my local community, doesn’t know anything about kink life anyway. He can be my lover that no one needs to know about besides my husband. Because honestly, it’s none of their business anyway.
With Sir and I opening up our marriage and my recent trip to California (if you haven’t read my recap posts, you should, they’re hot) I’ve been emotionally confused lately. It’s just a lot to wrap my head around, apparently. Poly, open, non-monogamous keep flying through my head with everything I’ve experienced mixed in. So far it’s all positive, which is good. But there is so much societal crap to ignore and labels to understand that I’m still just starting to sift through it.
Submission, Who Knew?
The one thing that really shocked me was how much of a submissive I really am. I know that seems silly as that is what this entire blog is about, but it was. I guess I had an idea that I was only submissive because of Sir. That that was why my other ‘loan’ experience didn’t work out so well. Apparently that may not have been all me.
It was one of the first things that I talked to Sir about after I said goodbye to Jack at the train station. How almost unsteady I was being pampered and spoiled. Being told that I feel amazing and I look hot aren’t usually the words being spoken to me during sex. Without an order following it, I’m sure I looked downright confused as Jack and I played. Having that focus and attention was quite heady. A large part of my continued arousal was due to his positive response to my body and my sexuality. Sir decided that Jack would be his perfect wing man. He could play with and abuse me and then send me to Jack for aftercare. Honestly, I wouldn’t have a problem with that at all. I would just have to live closer so I could get aftercare on a more regular basis.
For those keeping score
My ‘slept-with’ count has gone from 4 to 6. And I have crossed the threshold of my hetero-flexibility by having my first sexual interaction with a woman.
It was stressful.
Not because of anything that she did, I just didn’t want to fuck it up. Especially as the night before I had watched her husband fuck her and make her cum hard, repeatedly. It’s a tough act to follow. I think I was more nervous than anything. Not about her body (which was lovely) or going down on her (which was great). I think it was just performance anxiety. Like with the blow job, you want to do your best work.
The last thing I wanted was for her to think that I shouldn’t come back because I couldn’t please her. Not that she would say that, because she’s a lovely person, but still. I didn’t want her to regret my coming. Sir had also asked for video proof of this event, which Jack was more than happy to oblige. So there is a near ten minute video and several photos that I’m sure Jack and Sir will review more than once. Hell, I’ll probably watch it a few times too. 🙂
What ‘poly’ means to me
This vacation has got me thinking a lot more about poly and what I would want from a secondary partner. And honestly, it might not be kink. The idea of having a non-BDSM partner as a secondary, or even a few non-kinky lovers sounds kind of good. It feels weird to think that. But having my boots taken off for me and my legs kissed
felt really good. Going on ostensibly what could be considered a date (in this case just a break between rounds of sex) was amazing. And getting to chat in the car in traffic, try a new restaurant or cuisine, and just talk about anything was nice.
I love doing that with Sir too, but we have a different dynamic, even when we are one a date. Our conversations are ruled, generally, by our responsibilities. We will talk movies and politics on occasion. But work, family, and the kids rule a typical evening out. I think it was just refreshing to meet and be able to talk religion and politics with someone other than Sir that has similar views. I’m more than happy to have a debate type conversation from time to time, but having someone on the same wavelength feels good too. Looking at more of a pet relationship rather than a Dom dynamic. Someone to pamper me and say how pretty I am. I would be Sir’s slut and my second’s insatiable princess. Spoiled and cared for.
And notice how I just say ‘second’ once. The idea of having multiple partners to balance and maintain seems overwhelming at best. I just don’t see myself being able to handle that kind of open relationship. I can, however, see myself falling hard for one or maybe someday even two other people. Much more a poly-amorous set up than anything casual.
Needing a label I do not want
Sir was recently trying to set up a date.* I’m really not sure how to feel about it. I’m obviously worried about him finding someone. And I’m jealous as Jack lives so far away. But it is making me think about how I classify myself. The last few days Sir and I have been talking about how we are in a ‘BDSM Poly-Open’ relationship. I
just don’t know how to label, but I don’t know if that’s simply because I don’t like labels. I want Jack to be my secondary. But I think I would take it personally if he didn’t classify me the same way.
I just don’t know what certain labels mean. Is there an expectation of gifts for the holidays? Can you have multiple secondaries? As much as I hate labels I keep searching for them. These past few days have brought out a lot of emotional pull from me. I think I just need to remember that Jack has done nothing to make me question the genuineness of what he says.
The pain of cravings
He treats me differently than Sir. Not that one is right or wrong. Each is perfect for them and both make me feel amazing. Sir is my dom and my husband. He is supportive, understanding, and always knows what I need. Sir calls Jack my ‘aftercare’. He flatters me, cuddles me, and makes me laugh. We have so much in common
that we talk about almost anything, and our mutual appreciation for sarcasm makes us quite the pair.
Neither is a replacement for the other. But that also creates problems as I crave both. I think that this confusion and odd overwhelming is normal. I’ve started reading a lot and continued conversation and support from both Sir and Jack has helped. I just want to make sure I’m there for them as well. However, I don’t want to ask for more than either can give and end up hurt. It’s a balance that I haven’t quite reached yet. But they are worth the effort. As, I hope, am I.
**Sir has since decided to hold off as far as actively looking for a play partner goes. I think once his business is up and running he will feel in a better place about it. But he supports me and my relationships outside of him.
I got up on my hands and knees as I grabbed the Doxy and Jack grabbed the lube. We had both pumped up the importance of anal as Sir and he had discussed it beforehand. I think he even ripped open the condom as the front door opened. Jill had come home. I’m still not sure about the miscommunication. I think we thought she was going to her hair appointment before heading home. Not that it was a secret what we were doing, obviously, but we still didn’t want to rub it in her face after her long day at work. She didn’t seem to mind, but we both felt bad. We chose to get dressed and keep her company until she left.
In order to have the maximum amount of time all together in the evening, we chose to grab dinner early. I ran through the shower and Jack took me out a group of yummy food trucks.
I cook (food truck dinner) – ‘Don’t worry, I have a cover story.’
Jack had bought lunch. In order to keep things fair I wanted to buy him dinner. I really wanted to get something for Jill too, but she declined. We walked through all the options and came to rest on a cheesesteak truck that he likes. The one I got had roasted garlic and roasted mushrooms on it; it was amazing. We ate next to the lake and talked about passer-bys.
I’ll admit I kept my eye open for someone to recognize us. Well, not me, but Jack. He spoke often of his frustration of having so much local family and struggling to be poly with so much potential judgment. So, I had come up with several cover stories. Several involving being a mom from his daughter’s school. A few also included visiting for my job as a consultant. I’m not sure either would have gone down with his relatives, but I don’t think either of us really cared. Honestly, the possibility of seeing relatives did keep me from touching him as much as I wanted.
After we finished our sandwiches we walked along the man-made lake. I think we talked about he and Jill’s upcoming trip to see their secondary couple. I remember the pang of jealousy. Knowing that I was going to be leaving the following morning made me want to soak up as much as I could. The drive home was quiet.
Going down on Jill – ‘So…Sir wants a video.’
Jill came home looking fantastic. Not that she need to do anything to her hair, but it did look great. I felt comfortable enough to ask for a drink and the other two joined me. It was nice to chat about Jill’s day. We filled her in on the call from Jack’s mom at lunch. The phrase, ‘she bought her more crap’ was mentioned at least twice. We made our way down the hall to the bedroom laughing at all the junk our children seem to collect and how most of it is our parents’ fault.
When we made it to the bedroom, the tension rose. Jack lovingly helped Jill and I undress. I quickly found my way to Jill’s nipples as Jack knelt between her legs. After several orgasms he announced that it was my turn. Sir had asked that I be told to go down on Jill and that video evidence be provided. I was happy to oblige, but felt it completely unfair that Jack got to go first. He knows her body so well. This would be the first time I would ever play with a pussy that wasn’t my own, I needed all the help I could get.
Jill was lovely. I could feel her body relax as massaged her clit. Her folds were so soft and warm. She responded with moans and twitches as I explored her body. She tasted sweet, though having cum so many times for Jack may have been part of this. I rubbed her legs as she began sucking Jack’s cock. I considered fingering her, but as I hadn’t trimmed my nails I decided against it. The last thing I wanted was to hurt or cut her while trying to make her cum.
Jack was watch us and encouraging me. He would react to her twitches with, ‘looks like she liked that’, and ‘you’re going to make her cum if you keep that up’. And, in his all knowing way, he was right. I was almost more proud of making her cum than I was of his four multiples earlier in the day. We curled up to get ready for bed and I felt like quite an accomplished sub. Sir would be so proud of his loan. The only thing that dampened it was that I didn’t want to have to leave the next morning.
Classic train station goodbye – ‘I will see you again.’
Jill had to get up even earlier than normal for work. But she said goodbye before she left. It was so nice to spend time with her. And we decided that on my next visit she would have to take a day off to play. Jack and I curled back up in bed after she left. We both need to have one last connection before I had to leave. It was pretty epic as I recall; another set of sheets to wash. I sipped coffee from a Beauty and the Beast coffee cup (classic!) and packed my last few things into my suitcase. Jack copied all of the 2,000+ photos on my SD card and we wheeled my luggage down to the car.
We drove to the train station, talking and laughing. Pretending that nothing was wrong or off as we pulled into an employee parking space. “We’ll only be here for a bit”. Conversation passed through topics of weekend plans and how we were possibly going to write out the events of the past few days. We completely ignored random passer-bys as we made-out. As the time to leave got closer, we both shared how much we had enjoyed the time. How much we didn’t want to go. He grabbed my leg while we talked; just wanting to keep that closeness as long as possible. He drove me around to the drop-off and helped get my bag out of the trunk. Our kisses and hugs took on this classic 50’s film goodbye for me.
I watched him pull away and half considered chasing after him just for the effect. Though I really wanted one last hug as well. Once I got settled on my way down to L.A. I felt the rush of every emotion over the last days flood my system. All the lovely memories and moments. But mostly, fear. Fear that I would never see him again. Fear that he would forget me and our time together wouldn’t affect him. I’m not sure why I thought that, and I felt bad for even considering that he would treat me that way. But I think I did because of the overarching concern flood my brain. I cared about him. I cared about him a lot. And I wanted him to care about me.
Epilogue – ‘You will never be just some woman I fucked.’
Everything I knew (or thought I knew) about non-monogamy in general led me to believe that love (or strong feelings in general) wasn’t involved. A poly-amorous person would have live-in lovers and be in multiple committed relationships, but I didn’t pull the same definition for non-monogamy. Specifically as it pertained to he and his wife’s arrangement. He likes to fuck. He wants to fuck as many people as possible. And while I certainly don’t judge him for that, that’s not the way I tend to work. My connections run very deep and form very fast. This probably explains why I’ve only slept with six people (including him and his wife). I always saw non-monogamy as a more casual sex arrangement.
I think I just really want him to like me. And I don’t know why, when he says he does, I can’t just take it at face value? I don’t know what I expect. The next day I saw a gift, while shopping with my cousin, that I thought would be perfect for him. I didn’t buy it because I was worried that would be too forward. I think it’s just sheer confusion about how to approach this. We are both married, with young children. We both have jobs, responsibilities, and live on opposite sides of the country.
But I want to see him again. I want to see him again soon. Like suddenly I’m back in a long-distance relationship. But I’m smitten and I don’t know when we might to get to be together again. I’m going to have to go back to work and see friends. And I cannot tell anyone about the portion of my trip that meant the most to me. This experience has been more amazing than I could have imagined.
Second Breakfast (oral revisited) – ‘I will have victory’
The second morning I decided to try oral again. After Jill left for work I pounced on him. I changed position slightly from the day before so he could play with me while I worked (I make it sound like I’m a dwarf headed to the mine or something). I thought it might be distracting, but could also help me read how he was enjoying himself. The latter worked well. I was able to use his hand movements to let me know to go faster or slower. It did take awhile (he wasn’t lying), but when I found a good rhythm he enjoyed I felt myself relax into something I love to do. When he came it was amazing. I was so happy I was able to give that to him, happy that he enjoyed it, and proud of myself for sticking with it.
Usually Sir will get very sensitive after an orgasm and will tell me to stop. But as Jack didn’t move or give me any instruction to change what I was doing I continued. He moaned several more times as I kept the same speed and pressure. When I did stop and lay down next to him he had a euphoric face that I couldn’t stop smiling at. He explained that he had had four multiple orgasms due to my continued work. That had never happened to him before, the most he had ever had was two. And in a completely un-submissive way I was proud. I love the idea that I gave him something that no one else had to be able to remember our few days together.
First mission burrito – ‘A thing of beauty’
After a lovely morning of numerous orgasms and my conquering the mountain of oral sex, we decided lunch was key. As I had never been to California before he was a little overwhelmed with all the food options he wanted to show me. Soon we decided on a ‘real’ burrito. Apparently Ohio just doesn’t understand the majesty of what a burrito is. When I texted Sir to check-in and tell him where we were going for lunch, his response was, “A real mission-style burrito is a thing of beauty”.
So, considering the hype of this treasured delicacy, I was prepared to be let down. You should be proud of me, gentle reader. I ordered a marginally healthy option and didn’t finish it. I mean, putting all that rice, chicken, beans, and cheese on a spinach wrap makes it healthy, right? But it tasted amazing. It was perfectly balanced. Spicy enough to be flavorful without overpowering everything. I will concede that Ohio is way behind the eight-ball when it comes to this foodstuff.
Jack’s mom called while we were out to ‘check and see how we were doing’. It was cute. Apparently, as any good grandparent should, she had spoiled her granddaughter and had called to fill dad in on all the swag. He sighed as she ran down the list of Build-A-Bear purchases with his daughter screaming in the background. I’m glad I’m not the only parent to have those conversations. I kept trying not to laugh. Even though his mom knew the reason for her babysitting, I didn’t feel it was right to be that ‘she’s here right now’ about it.
We wandered through a toy store on the way back to the car. I really wanted to hold hands while we walked, but that seemed a step too far. Both he and Jill have local family, so discretion is key. Instead we looked at Legos and enjoyed just being ourselves.
Scene change – ‘Your living room carpet is very comfortable’
When we got back from lunch I stripped naked, because who needs clothes, and lay down on the carpet in the living room. Since moving to our new house, which is all hardwood floor, I have missed the comfort of a nice carpet. Jack seemed quite entertained by my quirkiness (thank heavens) and went to grab the camera and the condoms. We went through quite a few of them and he got a pretty hot video (if I do say so myself) of me squirting all over everything. I don’t know if he’s going to to post it or not, but I may try to edit it down and put some of it up.
Later, after another multitude of orgasms and yet another round of laundry, we cuddled up again. Talking about people that we both follow on twitter and blogs we read. We are both writers, so looking at how we both write was interesting.
Then he reminded me, “I still haven’t taken your ass.”
“I guess we better remedy that,” was my response.
Tune in tomorrow for the epic conclusion of ‘Rye does Northern California’ (doesn’t sound quite as nice as Debbie does Dallas, I’ll admit).
We weren’t naked for long before we couldn’t keep our hands off one another. As nervous as I had been waiting for him at the airport, I wasn’t embarrassed to be naked with him staring at me. We admired each other between orgasms and our mutual astonishment at how well we fit together. As we lay in a post-coital stupor we began realizing how much we had in common. Nothing is sexier to me than having similar ideologies to talk about.
The only thing that kept throwing me as we cuddled for awhile and then took a lovely shower together, was his concern. He would ask if he could kiss me or if I was doing okay. Don’t get me wrong, it was beyond sweet. It practically made me gooey whenever he would ask me. I think it just threw me as Sir doesn’t usually get around to checking in unless I safe-word. If a whip isn’t involved, he usually doesn’t mind if I’m whimpering with tears streaming down my face. Jack must of thought I was deaf with the number of times I responded with, ‘What?’ whenever he would ask. At least Jill said that he does the same thing to her, so it wasn’t a horrific facial expression I was making or something.
Unsuccessful Oral – ‘I probably should have mentioned…’
So, sexually, I pride myself on two things. One is my boobs. I have no control over their size or shape, really, but I think they look pretty good most of the time and quite a few others agree. Two is my skills at giving oral sex. I had a not-so-pleasant first experience with oral and basically refused to do it until I met Sir. He was patient, but really wanted me to give it a try again under his tutelage. I’m sure he wouldn’t say that I was awful to begin with, but I think he would say that I’ve come along way since we met. And, given the few partners I have been able to practice on since, no one has complained.
Needless to say, I was eager to give my skills a thorough test on Jack. And I ate humble pie, my friends. I pretty big piece of it. The first day I was there I went down on him. I used all my best technique. Not quite the same things I generally do for Sir, but everyone is different. Even though I did coax the occasional moan from him, I just wasn’t getting him there. After about fifteen minutes my legs were numb and my mouth had stopped producing saliva in protest. I had to stop. And I nearly cried. I couldn’t believe that I wasn’t able to get him off. He told me that it usually takes him longer than other guys; that he should have told me that. But at that point I thought he was just placating me.
I told Sir about it that night when we talked. He could tell I was disappointed, but told me to take what Jack said at face value. He was proud of me for trying so hard. And he knew I would try again and do my best. It felt a little like I was talking to my old gymnastics coach, but surprisingly, it helped a lot.
Breather – ‘Don’t put your dick in crazy.’
After several rounds of lovely orgasms (after oral didn’t work he was able to use my pussy for its intended purpose) we decided to take a breather. We took a ‘real’ shower and begrudgingly put on clothes. I checked in with Sir as we curled up on the couch. The chance to chat about politics and family was nice as a break. Sharing child rearing tips and my position on teaching my boys sex ed (see above quote) was very calming. We were both trying hard not to get too turned on again before Jill got home so we could save our energy for after dinner. Mostly, it worked, though I was pretty gooey by bedtime.
I’ll admit it felt a bit weird as I listened to stories (all of them entertaining) of Jack’s relationships with other women. His wife (obviously), other couples, random hook-ups. I wasn’t necessarily comparing myself to them, but I was worried about how he would compare me to them. Only in the last few years have I really started to enjoy sex and embrace my inner slut. And my other non-monogamy experience didn’t go so well. So I didn’t want to become a negative story for him to tell future lovers (who does?). And, as much as I have put nude photos of myself on the blog and sent him photos and video by DM, I didn’t want him to be too let down by the reality that is me.
The fact that he kept calling me hot and sexy almost threw me off guard. Not that Sir doesn’t say it, but I guess I don’t really believe him when he says it either. I don’t know if it’s body image (probably), or they are just saying it to get me into bed. Though I guess for both of those people I was pretty much a sure thing, so I guess back to body image.
Jill’s Arrival – ‘Get that poor woman a drink.’
Jill had run to the grocery on her way home to get supplies for dinner. When she did get home we could both tell pretty quickly that she had had a rough day. I’ll admit I was a little out of my element. I wasn’t sure how to help while also sort of feeling like a third wheel. Even tired she still let us relax while she made a fabulous dinner. We ate while joking and sharing still more stories.
After dinner they each had a drink. I think it helped Jill feel more comfortable considering that Jack and I had already spent the entire day together. When we couldn’t take the tension anymore they pulled me down the hall to the bedroom. They undressed me and let me enjoy Jill’s soft skin. With her being so upset after a long day, I let them focus on each other for awhile. I was so intrigued by their connection that I took several pictures of them.
I just wanted to watch them for awhile, but that would hardly count as a threesome, would it? Instead I enjoyed massaging and kissing Jill’s body while Jack fucked her. It was nice to be ‘eased’ into my first threesome experience. Just watching them was amazing.
Sleeping Arrangements – ‘On the floor is fine,….please.’
When we got around to go to bed my nervousness returned. I had written a post about my unease and how to bring up the topic of where I would be sleeping. We had talked in DM on twitter quickly about it and then nothing else was said. So after a quick play session with all three of us on Tuesday evening, we all brushed our teeth and wandered around to get ready for bed. Jack decided we were all sleeping in the bed, sure that we would all fit fine. And, realistically, we did.
The submissive part of me wanted to ask/be told to sleep on the floor. But him deciding that we were all going to fit on the bed was decision made. After we were all settled under the covers he rolled over and cuddled with me for awhile. It was so nice. It’s not Sir’s fault, but he can’t cuddle with me and sleep. He overheats in an instant and laying on his side too long will mess with his back. So admittedly I wasn’t prepared for when he held me and then started to snore lightly. It was so cute (in a very manly way). He said later that he sort of went back and forth cuddling with Jill and I. It wasn’t a ton of room, but there were plenty of blankets and I think everyone managed to sleep okay. Admittedly, my first night on the couch in L.A. I slept like a rock, but waking up alone dampened that pleasure.
I feel good. I feel really good. And don’t get me wrong, a significant portion of that good is based on the multitude of orgasms I have had in the last 48 hours. But it’s more than that. It’s the entire experience of it. Think of your last vacation. Not a work thing, but an honest vacation. Did you relax? Did you enjoy yourself? Or did you run around from thing to thing, dragging your kids away from more crap that they didn’t need and sleeping less than you do on a work day to make that early flight? That has always been my vacation. Even when we would go to the lake house with my extended family. It’s always supposed to be about relaxing with a book and a beer, but it never is.
Instead we plan each moment of the day and try to fill it with stuff that causes me stress due to cost and keeps me from enjoying whatever I am attempting to read. But this, this is what a vacation should be. This is what I will measure every future vacation against. And you should too. If you ever have a two day span as good or better than what you read here over the next few days, please, tell me about it. Now that I know vacations like this exist I will constantly be looking for proof of them.
Arrival – ‘What are you wearing?’
I was honestly a little surprised at how nervous I was. The entire plane flight I wasn’t really even thinking about what happened when we would land. I read my book. The turbulence made it too difficult to write, but smut always works. After leaving the plane, however, I started to think. ‘What if we don’t hit it off? What if he isn’t attracted to me? What if I can’t find him?’ We texted as I walked through the terminal and found the baggage claim. It didn’t take long to spot the bright red suitcase. But Jack wasn’t there. I checked my phone again. He had written something about stopping in the cell lot until I got to the baggage claim, I must have missed it during my check-in call with Sir to let him know that I arrived. I quickly wrote him back and walked through the crowd outside to wait.
After a few minutes I thought I spotted his car (he had texted the color and model so I could find him). He drove past me and pulled in about fifty feet down the fire line. I quickly collected my things and started toward him, only to realize that it wasn’t Jack. Another older couple was loading their bags into the back and giving the driver a hug. After cursing all modern automobiles, I messaged him again to let him know that I was now under a different sign and what I was wearing. He has seen pictures of my face, but in all the nervous energy and madness of the airport, I thought anything extra may help. He didn’t respond. The perfectly obvious explanation that he was driving and therefore shouldn’t be texting eluded me as my anxieties grew. Where was he? Did he drive by and turn around? Had he picked up that elderly couple just to avoid me? As I said, lack of logic.
Another few minutes passed and I started to think of back-up plans. Not that I had too many options as I didn’t know anyone in the city or how to get around. I could just head down to my cousin’s early; I was pretty sure my train ticket could be exchanged. The worry section of my brain was working in overdrive as I recognized his face in the car that pulled up just ahead of me. Instantaneously all my worries of abandonment were replaced with body image and personality issues instead. Not to be outdone, my nose started running in earnest (again, thank you head cold) right as he came up to say hi and help me put my bag in his trunk. So now I figured I must have looked like a paranoid coke addict and I’m shocked he let me in his car.
Concerns about our connection and compatibility were fleeting. We had so much in common and so much we could talk about. The ride back to their house was quick, but still enough time to hear hilarious stories about each other’s families. The laughs and mutual annoyances of our respective extended families were the perfect way to break the ice. Political and social issue similarities helped too as walked the hall to their condo. By the time we got to the door, I was priding myself on having only a modern amount of sheer terror that I wasn’t what he had expected.
Introductions – ‘And here’s the bedroom. You’ll be spending a lot of time in here.’
After we arrived at their house, unloaded the car and had the cursory tour, we made our way back to the bedroom and balcony. Two days seems like a long time, but I think both of us knew how fast it was going to disappear. Sitting on the bed he asked if he could take off my boots for me. I honestly had to ask him what he said again. He knelt in front of me and slowly unzipped my boots and removed my socks before kissing my legs from toe to thigh. It was incredibly erotic. But also, completely surreal. I’m the sub, no one kneels in front of me, that’s my job. It felt good, but also wrong somehow. Like the idea of me enjoying this special treatment was a violation of my collar in someway. I love being pampered, don’t get me wrong. That’s just not how Sir and I have set up our dynamic.
Jack and Jill have their own blog. They have been running theirs about twice as long as I have mine. And, as such, they do a wonderful job posting photos of various things. They did/do various photo memes and other personal hobbies. Therefore, I was not surprised when Jack pulled out a beauty of a camera. I was jealous, showing a little bit of penis-envy holding my much smaller and less-equipped Nikon. And one of the features of this not-at-all compensating camera is a setting called ‘intervalometer’, where it will auto-focus on a take a photo every 3.5 seconds. So it creates this sort of flip-book effect over time. The clicking was quite distracting at first, but I was quickly pulled to focus on other things. Though I did love that there were large chunks of photos where we just laying there cuddling or sitting and talking. I love the connection that shows, rather that just a casual sex partner. I’m not sure how they will look cropped or with faces blurred, but I hope I can put together some sort of photo essay that shows how great those intimate moments were with the more obvious sexy ones.
Part of me wanted to write up a post on how much I hate Columbus Day so I could avoid the draft post in my queue.
So, mini-rant, Columbus Day is a crap holiday. Rather than celebrating him we should focus on someone who didn’t just get lost. However, as my office is closed today and I’m heading to get my sleeve tattoo finished, I have decided that any extreme rant could be seen as hypocritical.
The draft post of the last week’s vacation has had to be moved out of my drafts so that I can edit it better. It’s currently sitting at around 3,500 words and I’m no where near done. I think I’m going to have to split it up into numerous posts so that my thoughts makes sense. The general theme is an amazingly relaxing vacation with lots of orgasms and good food. But I have been slightly blindsided by some of the emotional aftershocks that I have had.
Hopefully I can put some of it down in a way that makes sense and start posting it over the next few days. I also have over 1,000 photos that were taken to go through. I think only about 50 were taken by me of the food and train ride I took. The rest are sex, a lot of sex. So lots of blurring faces and masturbation breaks ahead.
Oh yeah, I’ll post pictures of the tattoos I got in Los Angeles and the sleeve I finish today as well. I love how busy this makes me seem.
My away message at the office is much less entertaining that this one. Trust me.
By the time this is posted I should be waiting to board my flight to San Francisco. I will be spending two days with Jack and Jill from over at Frisky in the 916. I’m sure that photos and tweets will be flying for a few days. Then I head down to L.A. to see my cousin until Sunday.
I am hoping to work on several posts and I’m sure I’ll be inspired to write more. I get home on Sunday evening, but not sure if I’ll have the chance to get back here before next Monday. Just not sure how much internet I’ll have. You know, when I’m not busy sucking cock.
Hope everyone has a lovely, sex week. I can’t wait to tell you all about mine.