Tuesday, November 19, 2013

How We Won the Party


So many of my adventures lately include leaving-practice, and this was one of them. First Boy (so named because he was the first guy I topped, a few weeks ago at that Halloween party) had invited for me to bottom for him in rope class before the dungeon last Saturday, but it turned out to be a demo-class, not hands-on, and he felt unqualified to tie me up on his own. I’m glad he copped to that, but I had a rejection-reaction that was disproportionate with the situation. I got a sour feeling in my belly that tells me I’m not ready yet for rope class, since it was such a Sweetie thing.

Luckily Cute Master’s birthday party was also going on that night, so I bid First Boy a regretful farewell (I’m sure he found some good adventures…) and set my GPS for the suburbs. Really, I should know the way by now. I was all sproinged up with pent-up energy from the rope demo, but I knew that even if I didn’t find a release I’d still have some good time with pals.

Still, I worried about the vulnerability that rope class had brought out, especially since one of the first people I saw when I walked in was CBATP. He didn’t have the scene-glow that he’d had in my memory of him, but still, pangs. And awkward. When I talked to him later that night, I went with false, slutty bravado which might have been unappealing but at least it kept me from losing out on fun.

Cute Master was organizing a game and asked me if I wanted to play as dom or sub. I picked dom, figuring I’d get to spank out some of the pent-up stuff. He handed me a playing card, and ace, and told me to find the sub with the other ace.

It’s possible that CM rigged the draw, because my partner was none other than… Pretty Slave! We were both delighted at this arrangement.

“Is this, like, a sluttiness contest? Because I WILL WIN.”

It wasn’t really a contest, though, we just had to tell the person what to do and if they didn’t do it to our satisfaction, we’d get a goody bag instead.

We were last since we had the ace, so we had lots of time to plan our strategy while we watched the other (very tame and clothed) partnerships do their things—mostly variations on flogging. She sat in my lap while we brainstormed and I felt her up. I wanted us to do EVERYTHING, especially with everyone watching, but I felt a little reticent about asking. Cute Master kept saying things like “Oh, I know you two are gonna be MESSED. UP. You’d almost think I planned this.”

PS and I continued plotting, and she asked “Can I finger you?”

“Of course!”

“Can I make you come? Will you be able to?”
“Um, yeah.”

As our turn approached, CM kept saying, “Oh, man, I can’t wait to read about this on your blog!” Which made me really, really happy.

“(CM) you have to put on “Call Me Maybe!” PS kept saying.

“No, you reeeeeally don’t,” I said, but she wandered off to find it while I stood in front of the crowd in Wonder Woman stance, completely without stage fright.

Once she’d found the song and come back, she kissed me and I put my arms up. She pulled off my bright pink sweater and told me to turn around so that she could unzip my houndstooth pencil skirt. I’d told her to leave on the heels, as they’re my lucky pair. She unhooked my bra and I flung it into the crowd like an old-timey striptease. I took her black dress off and she kneeled down in front of me, emphatically placing her mouth on the front of my panties.

A jolt went through me and I cried out, reached down and petted/pulled her hair. Buckling from the charge of her, I knelt down and we kissed. I squeezed her nipples hard, held her close, and smelled her hair like I always do, except with an audience.

I reached into her black lace panties and found her clit, making her moan and sucking her nipple. At this point, two other girls decided to join in, both friends I’d never played with before. There was a moment where I didn’t know where I fit, but I found my way kissing the one with the long dark hair and the shiny purple dress.

Pretty Slave and I found each other again and she rubbed her hand over the front of my undies while I kissed her some more.

“I have to lie down,” I said.

“Okay, I like it when you lie down.”

“Why am I still wearing these?”

She took my underpants off me (but still not my shoes) and my very favorite moment was when I opened my legs and gave the entire right side of the room (mostly men, some cute ones) a full view of my hoo-ha. It felt like such recognition, a celebration, a big TA-DA! for such a beloved part. The guys made appreciative noises about having chosen their seats well.

They only got more appreciative when Pretty Slave buried her face in there. Oh!

Up top, the other two girls were playing with each other and with my boobs. The one girl, about whom I wasn’t feeling 100% yes, kept hurting them and kept leaning over me in such a way that her blouse made me feel stifled. It took me a couple of tries and some panting diplomacy to back her off, but I did, and she consigned herself to petting my hair.

I stayed in the throes of Pretty Slave’s tongue. She pushed a finger inside me. Another knuckle just grazed my asshole and I got all full of shivers.

“Can we do this for my birthday?” asked a member of the crowd, and soon they were all naming upcoming occasions we could celebrate in this way. I was glad to be so festive and wanted and seen.

When we were done, I sat up and kissed her hoo-ha-tasting mouth, thanked her, and of course got a high-five. She held me in one of the big circle-chairs and we had giggly aftercare, talking about our odd not-relationship and making up silly statuses to have on Fet. We said how much we appreciate each other and we were both so glad to have pulled aces.


And I’m glad I left the dungeon when I did: leaving-practice tends to have the best rewards.

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