Tuesday, February 17, 2009
The Flea: Cigarettes, Whips and Head Games
So, this weekend finally came and went and now I’m even more fucking off my rocker than I was to start with.
The Fetish Flea. Providence. Friday and Saturday nights and Sunday with Sir et al. Friends and fun.
I ended up staying with Sir. Belle had decided that she would give (what she called) "the lovebirds", some privacy. I didn't have the heart to tell her that we weren't "lovebirds", just two people learning to get to know each other and that it might be easier to have her as a buffer. I really didn’t know what to expect, so I just decided to expect nothing and just let things flow. You know, that old- don’t expect you’re doomed to disappointment thing?
I did have my last cigarette Friday at 12. Just before I left to drive to meet Sir. I didn’t know how that was going to go over. But I found out soon enough.
Friday night went well. We had dinner at the Mall with some of Sir’s friends. It was loud, the food was bad, but the company was wonderful. I could so just stare in his eyes forever.
Afterwards, a little play, and sleep. He does snore. But not too badly. I think its kind of cute and its actually quite comforting...I know he’s there. He slept naked, but I don’t think he’s really used to that. Odd. He’s got such a hot little body that I just can’t keep my hands to home. I like that feeling.
But Saturday. Busy day, shopping (bought a really cool pair of heels from Joe the Shoe Guy), Midori's Predicament Bondage class, hanging out, bondage lounge, tickle lounge, and dinner with Sir P and S. I fell off my heels. I couldn’t believe when that happened. I don’t think I’ve fallen in heels more than a couple of times in my whole life and in just a few minutes...twice. Landed up-ended on my ass in the middle of the sidewalk. Said fuck it, laughed and took the damned shoes off. He might as well figure out that I’m adaptable now....I just don’t give a rat’s ass. I think he liked what I was wearing though. I couldn’t really tell. For some reason, I’m not sure if he likes things or not. Something in his eyes tells me that he’s got something in his head..but what, I’ve no idea. He's watching me and wondering...just as I am.
Had a cigarette meltdown. Dear lord, what the christ was I thinking? Giving up smokes just when my moods were likely to be all askew? It would have been easier to smoke one and get back to normal. But noooo I had to go and try to smart ass myself out of it..and then look what happens. Was I testing him? I don’t know. If so...I think he passed. He gave into me...while at the same time...I didn’t really have a choice but to do what would make him happy. What had gotten into me. This was supposed to be fun, enjoyable...and temporary. When did that change?
Whips. Now, whips have always been a little favorite of mine. But...I do have to be in a really good headspace to start. They hurt like the dickens...and if I’m not there...ouchie. I like the after feeling though...so it’s a 50/50 kind of thing. But he likes them...a lot apparently.
It was nice though. He’s very good, but a little impatient. Or maybe I was just too bratty for him to be patient with. We’ll have to see. Got three pretty significant stripes. Those are gonna take a while to heal. He seemed to like it though...I wonder about sadists like that. Tearing skin off...I’ve never understood. But the high...I’d forgotten it felt like that. Found a little nice space afterwards...and stayed that way for a while.
Also on tap, some predicament bondage...now that was pretty hot. Tickling, moving, laughing...one of my favorite things. I love figuring things out...a way out...laughing together at my discomfort and his amusement at my solutions...until I don’t have one left. My heart just melted at the thought of him doing this to me. And, I think, I figured out why he’s so darned attractive to me. He’s creative, fun, and damned devious to use myself against me. In short...he’s just exactly the type I’m attracted to. Using myself and beating myself at me. I’m in a little trouble with this one.
Last up were parties. Elevators full of people, meeting people whose names I won’t remember tomorrow...and Q’s room party. Gurly in her dress, Renee with the electric, Jennifer in Sir’s rope. Why did that thought make me irritated? Ah yes...I wanted it to be me. But the look on her face...I’m glad he could make her feel that. Oh yes I am. But still a little empty. Even with the whip....still.
Sunday at the Flea...bondage lounge with Sir. Met his friend RiggerJay. He was wearing a kilt and had a pretty bad headache. I loved his knees and massaged his neck which was pretty good for both of us. But looking at Sir’s face...something didn’t look right. He’d given me his rope...but something wasn’t right.
Then the drive home, and time at his house to unwind. I wanted to stay, wanted to just sleep in his arms again. What have I done?