Thursday, August 10, 2006

The Trip

The trip started with a bang and ended with a bang, because the Boy and I really like to bang eachother. I sat on the train tonight thinking about two weeks ago, being on the train heading out, and how slowly it moved and how much I just wanted to be with him again. And I had forgotten until we were walking up the stairs to to his room how much being with him is being at home. For the next two weeks we were never apart more than an hour at a time, I think, except for one night when we didn't share a bed. And we didn't fight, though one night I went a little crazy and had to be calmed down, but he did that for me. The comfort level I spoke of last post returned full force, and is great. It's nice to have somebody with whom you can shower and whom you can change in front of without worry, just stripping off clothes because it's too hot to wear them anymore (this sometimes produces a nice reaction, too), and someone in front of whom you can shamelessly pick at your toes with your fingers, or ingrown hairs (furs, he calls them) or zits. It's nice to have somebody who will rub moisturizing lotion onto your breasts when they have been burnt by electrical play (not that I couldn't do that myself, but it's nice to have somebody else). It's nice to know that I have his room to stay at at the house where we live, since mine is full of a summer boarder. It's nice to know he'll help me get my car fixed, drive me to the airport, talk to me about health problems, and I'll do the same with him. As I've said a billion times, it's nice as can be to have a partner in life.
And I simply adore him. I adore spending time with him. I adore lying on the couch in one room of his two room suit and rereading one of my favorite books and listening to him sing somewhat tunelessly along to our favorite band while finishing the bed he built for us. That's nice as nice, and incredibly domestic.
He once wrote in a post here that he doesn't do well with the long distance because he's used to showing me how he feels instead of telling me. I didn't think much of that at the time, but at the time I was unhappy anyhow. This time when I was with him I was looking for it, and I found it. A million tiny tendernesses. A million little touches, little carresses in passing. It's not clingy, it's not as though if we're in the same space we must constantly be in contact, but he almost never walks past me without touching me in some small way. And it does get the message accross, now that I know what it means. He's not touching me constantly because he's horny as hell (well, he is, he's a terribly randy boy, but he's obvious about that when he wants to be), he's touching me to show that he loves me. And I get it, duh, finally, and I love him for it, and I love him too.
We had alot of sex. All of it was very good. We had sex in tons of positions, we gave eachother mindblowing head. I learned how to give him a really good hand job, which is a very useful skill to have. One of the first nights, when we were at his parents house, he tied me to a lovely bed that kept me good and spread out, and then he pretty much did what he wanted with me. And I wanted him to do what he was doing to me, alot. He licked his fingers and he carefully seperated my labia, and just that light touch was sending me into spasms, but then he started licking. There was alot of orgasming, let me tell you.
So, yes. Alot of terribly good sex, all over the hotel room (with the haunted shower), the guest room of his parents house, and his bedroom. Which now has a bed. A huge, HUGE bed. I will attempt to leave him to write about it, because I didn't build it and can't describe it, except being tied to it in several positions, which is lovely. So, with luck he'll post about that and maybe some other stuff too, but if not then I'll devote an entire entry to it later on. There's alot of catching up to be done here.
Right. So, trip. I had a birthday, it was good, there were amazing meals and quite adequate plays and beer and pool and such.
Then we hurried home, to get to the party on time.
Ah, the party. We saw a man suspended while his Mistress cheerfully spun him and giggled like a school girl. We saw any number of lovely designs put into people's skin with needles. We say all different types of scenes, and decided, of course, that we like how we play best, and we like to play with eachother. Who's surprized?
I knew that I was going to Dom at least a little when I got to the party, and so after a few quite nice scenes subbing, I took off my collar and put on his, and tied him at several points (wrists and hair) to the set up in front of a mirror, and then I started moving through floggers. It felt good. I got significantly better with the floggers than I had been before: hitting hard or soft as I pleased, not wrapping much, not hitting dangerous or overly painful places much. Also, I'm a fairly showy Domme, and he's such a darling sub, that at one point I looked up to find that I had quite an audience. So I grabbed his hair and made him look and told him to behave well for them, and went back to hitting him. The scene ended when I could nolonger walk easily on the boots (7 inch heals, remember), and his arms were aching, so I let him down. And now the folkes there know that we mean it when we say we switch, so that's good.
Of course, I then spent an hour or more wandering around with my arms tied behind my back, which probably undermined my new air of authority somewhat.
And then, as we were winding up to leave, we took stock of what we still wanted to play with, and remembered how much we'd liked the violet wand last time. So he cheerfully told me to go and ask two much more experienced, DEFINITELY dominant folkes there if there was one about we could use. But some how the message that we, he and I, would like to play with one, did not get across, and shortly I was sitting topless infront of a frightening man with a grin and an electrified pinwheel. I was scared out of my mind. This man was the one person we had told ourselves, from the very first Munch, would never play with either of us. Which is to say, would never play with me, as I think he wouldn't really want to touch the Boy.
But, there I sat. And it HURT. He did have it cranked up all the way, and it he does identify as a Sadist, so I wasn't surprized that it hurt, but MAN, did it hurt. The glass attachment was somewhat less painful, and there was a Domme there who dished out a bit of it to the Boy, too, so he at least had an idea of what I was going through.
I still think I'd like to try more electric play, but I'm more into sensation than actual pain, so I hope that next time my Boy'll be on the other end of it.
Aaaand I think that's it. I'm sure there's more to write about, but I'm running out of steam. Comment away, all of you, It was great seeing those I saw, and we'll be back in September.


Anonymous Anonymous said...

yay for banging and partners and full membership and partial descriptions of amazing trips... i can never find anything to say, because i always agree with what you write.
starting the moment i hit wesleyan, this next semester's going to be something else. i'm looking forward to it a whole lot, tho i'm kinda scared, too... it'll be really good to have you.
love you

4:06 AM  

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