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.