“I’m starting to wonder if I should rethink my workshop
plans,” said Mr. Shiny Eyes. “Should I?”
“Um, yes.”
I called Sweetie and asked her to pick me up a little later
than we’d planned. She’d gotten us a hotel room nearby and I was excited to end
the day snuggling her, but for now I really wanted to see what would happen.
(As I write this, it happens to be a week where I haven’t seen her enough and I
miss her, so this paragraph gives me a little wistful feeling…)
We decided to go back to Mr. Sweetheart’s tent. There was
some talk of him putting ropes on me (Yay!) but Mr. Shiny Eyes negotiated for
my arms to be free. “There are some things I want to do where she’ll need to
have her arms free.”
At the point, it occurred to me that things were probably
going all the way to PIV sex, (Sex festival! I know! Keep forgetting!) which is
an everyday thing to most people and which I sorely needed. It’s still such a
big deal to me because I haven’t had that much experience with it in the past
decade, so I had to stop and check in with myself to see if it would be okay.
And hooray! It was!
So there I was, walking up a grassy hill on the most
gorgeous sunny day, past all kinds of smiling pagan folk in various states of
undress, with a cute guy on either side of me. Not sure why such a moment would
bring out more imperiousness, but I said:
“Wait, why am I walking with two dudes and still carrying
this heavy backpack?”
True to his pseudonym, Mr. Sweetheart took the bag.
Then I said “Now what would happen if I tried to run away?”
and took off up the hill. What happened was, they chased me and spanked me as I
ran, and we all laughed, and then they had to tell me I was running in the
wrong direction and steer me towards the cabin and tents.
Mr. Shiny Eyes went off to wash his stuff, since he’d
already had sex once that afternoon. So thoughtful.
Mr. Sweetheart and I went into someone’s communal cabin to
use the restroom. Too-turned-on-to-pee is a good feeling, but is also annoying
when there’s a whole bunch of stuff I’m in a hurry to start doing/having done
to me. After I washed my hands I saw that there were no paper towels so I wiped
them on the back of his shirt—that got me in some very nice trouble and I got
pushed up against the sink. Jeez I wish I could feel his (your) hands in my
hair right now.
Mr. Shiny eyes returned all fresh and clean and we all made
out for a while on the railing of the cabin porch. I felt like a prize when
people saw us. Then it was time to go in the tent.
The tent that Ms. and Mr. Sweetheart were sharing with some
others was a store that sold..dresses, maybe? and had a big sleeping quarters
in the back. There were three big air mattresses all nicely made up and lots of
clothes and gear all around. They led me to the mattress on the far right of
the tent and I lay down first—it was exactly the kind of happy that I get
sunbathing at the nude beach, only sexier.
Is it possible to undress soulfully? I watched Mr. Sweetheart
strip off his shirt, his kilt, his undies. He looked so vulnerable and sincere.
I know I talked about
whatever-the-straight-version-of-bears-is as being my type, but these two
aren’t that, and they’ve kind of given me a taste for fit-and-strong.
They lay down beside me, Mr. Sweetheart on the left and Mr.
Shiny Eyes on the right. We held each other, kissed, and then they did
something I’ve fantasized about my whole life—each of them took a nipple in his
mouth, sucked and played. Complete, deep warmth flooded through me, and I felt
cared-for and at peace in a way that I’ve never felt before. My moans of
pleasure were insufficient to express the bliss I was feeling, so I guess that’s
why God made blog posts.