The Sparkly Festival of Awesomeness Part Three: Two Kisses, One Cake Flower

After the nature walk, I was feeling oddly standoffish—I was sitting on the side of the hill overlooking the afternoon ritual. Some folk nearby promised some “Ritual Science Theater 3000” and that’s kinda where I was at: ironic, detached. I’d had a lot of fun but I wasn’t sure what else I could get out of the day. Plus, I was sad that all of the guys had sarongs on. I was not seeing anywhere near a nude beach number of penises, and that made me grumpy.

But! After the ritual, which took place in sort of a picnic-pavilion thing, they had a feast where you weren’t allowed to feed anything to yourself—foodstuffs could only be put in your mouth by others. This seemed like enough of an icebreaker to get me over my wallflowerness. And then! I saw Mr. and Ms. Sweetheart! (Not married, but I’ve paired their nicknames for the sake of simplicity and also because they happen to both be sweethearts. Also it should be mentioned that she looks like a beautiful kickass goddess. Freya maybe.) I hadn’t even known they’d be there!

Mr. Sweetheart and I had been in touch a little bit since the hotel party. He even tried to matchmake me with the cute ex-fireman guy, but that didn’t go anywhere. Recently, Mr. Sweetheart had started following my blog, so he was really really on my good side. Any guy who can read those heartbreak-laden posts I’ve been writing lately and still want to hang out with me—that is a man.

Aside from the collared human platters who ringed the pavilion covered in fruit, I was the only one at the feast completely naked. I worried that it might be bad etiquette, but no one seemed to mind. Mr. and Ms. Sweetheart wrapped me up in a big hug and said they’d keep me from being a wallflower, and I was so grateful for that. With them there, I felt a nice homey healing feeling, like I could really open up and join the party.

My friends Sheandhim arrived, looking flushed and sleepy from whatever Tantric magic they’d been getting up to. We all took turns feeding each other apples slices, strawberries, and other yummy things.

And hooray! Mr. Shiny Eyes was there, chatting with a pretty lady on the ersatz dance floor. I interrupted their conversation to ask if he remembered me and tell him I DEFINITELY remembered his rope-pulling skills. It didn’t take us long to get to a kiss and ohboy was he good at it. Some kisses are just like a key finding the right lock, and this was one of those. “Hmmm, maybe we should spend some time together,” I think he said, and I was inclined to agree.

He went back to his pretty lady and I went back to my friends. After I ended up with an entire mocha mini-cupcake in my mouth at once, one of the dolled-up hostesses kindly explained that I could touch the food after it’d been fed to me, so as to take smaller bites. Predictable but enjoyable things were said about my mouth’s capacity.

Sheandhim looked into licking honey off of one of the human platters, but I’ve never gotten that licking-sticky-stuff-off-of-people thing.  However, I spotted a fancy white cake on one of the (nonhuman) side tables. I thought it was a birthday cake but it occurs to me that it might have been some magic couple’s (or triad’s or whatever’s) wedding cake. It had one flower left on it, a big white blossom that I absolutely had to have, but he fed me the cake part first. (I know, life is hard sometimes, isn’t it?) “Ahem,” I said, “That cake flower isn’t going to feed itself to me…”

I was sheepish for being such a brat, but he seemed impressed. “Not only have you been working on you no, you’re getting really good at making your desires clear.”

He fed me the flower and it was delicious—crunchy, vanilla, crystalline. And then he held me and we kissed. It was sweet and not just because of the cake flower. It was an old-friends kiss, even though we haven’t known each other for long. The kiss of an ally.

He held me tight and pressed himself forward, the front of his kilt all happy to see me—I lovelovelove that feeling.

(Sidenote: The whole kilt-as-pagan-boy-uniform thing? AWESOME. I mean, if they HAVE to wear something on the bottom.)

I feel a little nervous about the romance I’m maybe writing into these kisses, but I really like being in a world where kissing is this easy, where people are just so generous with themselves.

Next time: The hair-pulling contest: Best. Idea. Ever.

Please, Sir, Part Two: Barriers and Cupcakes

I started this story on an optimistic note, but I’m not feeling that way today. Between Monday night and now, the tone of things changed in a few texts and a weepy call. I’m doubting whether it’s really advisable for me to try submitting anymore. I don’t know whether I can find a dom who is interested/patient enough to deal with the messy emotions that come from being a new submissive. I’m not sure I’m interested in those emotions either.

So, another hot/sad story. Someday soon I’d like to have some that are just hot. But I’m sure it’ll still be a complicated hot.

Telling this story may hurt some feelings, and I’m sad about that. I mean this series to be an exploration of my own limits and not a judgement on anyone else.

If you’ve been reading for a while, you’ll recall that Ialmost broke things off (whatever things there were going to be) with Fireguy a few weeks ago. There were several reasons for that.

First, I got scared, plain and simple.

Second, he kept coming across as very guarded, almost as though I were a threat to him and/or his relationships. He was going through some renegotiating with Varga Girl and really feeling brokenhearted about it, but it still hurt my feelings. For example, there was a picture from our photo session of him pulling my hair and me having a nice swoony expression. He asked me not to post it so as not to “minimize” hair-pulling with his sub. But even if I had been a client and not a friend, my experience did not deserve to be minimized either.

He kept saying that he just wanted something casual, even though I hadn’t asked for anything more. I felt like I was having to fight the tide of emotions that I had about him and about my brand new experiences. When he said he might not always have time to talk to me, I flashed back to Bill and got really worried. I really really didn’t want to be a doll again.

The third reason I started to back off is that, for all the cute-wonderful-inspiring that Fireguy and Firewife (she’s asked to be renamed Wonder Woman, how could I say no?) are, they have an official “Relationship Agreement” between them that’s very intimidating. I wouldn’t begrudge anybody ANY tool that helps them stay in a happy poly marriage for THIRTY YEARS, but I can’t imagine I’m the first outsider to find this daunting.

I haven’t seen the Relationship Agreement, but the part he told me about, and that gave me pause, was the Levels. There are Play Levels One Through Four. I thought at first they’d be close to the traditional bases, but they’re not. Level One is “Free Safe Play.” Level Two “is for special people” and requires that any potential partners and THEIR partners get tested for STI’s. He said he was “not interested in Levels Three and Four” but BDSM being what it is, I’m sure those levels might be way too advanced for me. He told me that, since I was treated earlier this year for an STI, I would have to stay (it felt like “would only qualify for”) Level One.

Reading that, I have to say I felt like a piece of meat. We hadn’t even had a date, and already I couldn’t hope to be one of the “special” people. I didn’t like the idea of having to earn his/their affection, although, is that part of what being a submissive is? I don’t even know. I confessed that I had feelings for him and I couldn’t risk being stuck in crushtown again.

Nonetheless, I think people have the right to protect their bodies and relationships any way they see fit, and I wanted to learn more. Plus, I just really like them, and the idea of not pursuing things made me sad.

When I called a few days later and he was glad to hear from me, I apologized for things getting messed up over email and jumped at his offer to start things over. I was really excited to make plans with them. Their house really does feel like such a safe place to me, and I loved the idea of going back there. When Wonder Woman called to set up the date, she asked me what I wanted to do, I said I wanted to decorate cupcakes. But I think maybe I should’ve said I wanted to sit in a diner and talk. Because I knew what visiting him at the house really meant.

I asked her what her favorite cupcake is and she said dark chocolate. It was my first time making chocolate cupcakes from scratch, I couldn’t get over how beautiful the batter was. I tried for fire colored icing but it turned out more peach colored, as you can see.

We had such a nice time decorating cupcakes and I was so happy to get a chance to talk to them a little bit. He made a remark about his fingers being too fat to work with the sprinkles, and ohboy, don’t think I hadn’t noticed. Unfortunately, Fireguy and Varga Girl had just broken up (romantically—they plan to keep up the D/S part of their relationship) a couple of hours before and he was having some other troubles, too. A phone call took him away for a bit, but I was happy to have a nice chance to talk with Wonder Woman for a while.

When it was time to go down to the basement where the fire stuff was set up, I wasn’t sure if Wonder Woman was coming—Fireguy had talked about the three of us playing together, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to invite her down or what. She just hugged me and sent me on my way though, saying to text her if we needed her.

Am I ever going to write a story that doesn’t make me think I should have talked more first? Is there ever enough talking?

Next: My First Collaring

Oh no no no, Mr. 93%

What's the most dealbreakery word a date could use? Okay, there are a few, but the worst is...

DISCREET. Ugh.

He was so in. He looked like a pinup of a dom-tall, big, very warm energy. I already knew he was a big music nerd. Plus! He brought me the above cupcakes!

Unfortunately, when he started talking about his wife (WHOM! He hadn't mentioned at all in either of his profiles or in two weeks of conversation!) he said that he was very discreet with her about his other relationships. I didn't want to jump to conclusions so I asked him what that meant. He said she doesn't know anything about the girls he dates, not even their names. They basically have a "don't ask don't tell" policy.  So I would never get to meet her or anyone else in his family.

So I had to turn him down. It's not that I necessarily have to be besties with the partners of those I date, though that would be preferable. Having metamours is almost as big a part of the dream as having a boyfriend is. Without having at least some chance to be part of the family, I think the relationship would feel isolating to me.

Even though I'm feeling a little discouraged at the moment, I guess I just have to keep looking for my poly guy, and hope not to waste too many more Sunday afternoons on guys who should have put the dreaded word in their profiles.Grrr! Argh.