Monday, July 18, 2011

DOF 2011: Friday Part 2

I was very excited to play with Gray.  Our instant chemistry and flirting over the past day had only increased my anticipation.  I quickly showered, changed, and skipped (yes, skipped) down to the Pavilion.  I arrived just as the last contestant for the Wheel of Destiny volunteered.

Finding my friends, I waited as the event soon ended.  People still milled about, but I anxiously hopped back and forth, a ball of energy and jitters.  A smile was plastered on my face, but it didn't stay. 

With the last contestant's fate sealed, Gray invited people up to the stage to finish off the cake not eaten.  (One of the options on the wheel was cake.)  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a very attractive woman step up.  Gray relaxed behind the wheel, leaning on the railing of the Pavilion.  As she approached him, I remember thinking, Wow, she's hot, and then turning back to talk with my friends.  I didn't think much of it, until I looked back again and saw them standing quite close together.  Even with the obstruction of the wheel, I could see they were flirting. 

I immediately looked away.  The emotional tidal wave began.  I tried to deny it, but there was no use.  I tentatively looked back.  They were kissing.  I turned away.  I grabbed the arms of one of my friends and positioned him. "You are going to look at them; I am going to look at you."  But I tortured myself with another quick look.  Now he was spanking her. 

And all the thoughts that live in the back of my mind started. 

'Of course he's playing with her; she's gorgeous, so much more attractive than me.' 

'I guess he just forgot about our date.  Well, of course he forgot; look at her.' 

'Maybe I should just go.  Maybe I should just forget I ever approached him.'

Knowing nothing good could come from my current state of mind, I got my friends to distract me.  Somehow we started playing rock/paper/scissors, but since it was camp, we needed to modify it.  In its stead, we dubbed the game shocker/anal/fuck.  We created hand motions similar to the original and practiced them, chanting the words as we did.  After a minute or two, a random person approached wondering what we were doing.  This alone was enough to have me giggling.

But I couldn't look back.  No, I couldn't help myself from looking back.  She was still over his knee.  I went back to the game. 

I turned back to the stage.  The wheel was taken away.  They were kissing again.

All the while, one of my new camp friends made her feelings known.  "That fucking guy.  He's just going after the hot piece of ass.  He's such a dick."  I tried to brush off her comments.  I tried to be logical.  I tried to pull myself away from my destructive emotions.

Gray and the woman made their way down from the stage.  I didn't want to approach, but in some sort of twisted echo of earlier that evening, my new camp friend pushed me towards them.  As I came over, Gray holding her hand, with a huge smile on his face, he caught my eye.  He reached out his free hand and brushed my arm.  I prepared myself for the nice let down.

"I just need some time to relax from the event.  Give me fifteen minutes.  I'll be sitting over there on a bench, smoking a cigar."  He kissed me on the cheek, softly and sweetly.  Where I was at DEF CON 5, I came down to a 4 1/4.

As a way to waste time, I walked to the Dining Hall to fill my water bottle.  My new camp friend came along.

"Fifteen minutes, my ass.  He just wants to go fuck her quick and then deal with you."  I pivoted the conversation, asking her about herself.  Why did she come to camp?  How long had she been in the scene?  Anything to get her to stop talking negatively about Gray.

We found ourselves sitting on a bench outside the Pavilion.  Neither of us saw Gray, so instead we sat and chatted more.  I tried to mentally encourage myself.  I tried to tell myself everything would be fine.  I tried to keep calm.

Looking across, I could see there were several other benches outside the Pavilion.  It was so dark, though, I could not tell who was at them.  I thought I saw someone smoking on the bench nearest us, but it wasn't Gray. 

I looked up at the sky, wondered at the stars, reminding myself how small I was in this big huge world.  I don't know why, but remembering the enormity of life comforts me about my problems.  I guess they just seem small, even when they're big.

As I looked down, a golf cart taxi rolled by.  I was blinded for a moment.  Then, I saw him, at the farthest bench, smoking a cigar, the woman still with him.  I didn't know what to do.  They were obviously still talking, and I didn't want to interrupt.  We hadn't officially started our date and for all I knew he was setting up something for later that night or the next day.  But, once the music for the dance party in the Pavilion started, I decided it was time to be brave.  I said bye to my camp friend, who hugged me and said she hoped things would be okay, but to not let that dick bring me down.

I slowly walked over, gripping the shoulder strap of my Hello Kitty bag, just trying to stay calm.  I asked if he was ready.  He said he needed a few more minutes, but invited me to sit beside him.  He put his arm around me and I leaned into his chest; DEF CON 4. 

Gray introduced me to his friend, Ten, whom he'd known for quite some time.  Up close, she was even more stunning.  We sat and I listened to their stories.  I liked her and was glad to have met her.  Some where in my head, a piece of me felt validated for not giving in to my emotions, for waiting to judge, for believing in Gray.

Gray Date
Gray finished up his cigar and suggested we all get drinks.  As we walked, I was the last in our short line.  Ten was served first.  Gray got his drink and walked away as I patiently waited to be served.  Then I felt a small bite on my left shoulder; it was Gray.

"You disappeared."

"No I didn't."

"Were you behind me the whole time?"

"Us theatre folk, they teach you to blend in."  I didn't really want a drink; I still had my full water bottle.  We walked off; Ten stayed at the bar.

Strolling towards his cabin, the jitters came back.  The anticipation grew again.  On his porch, he stopped, turned around, and weaved his fingers into my hair.  My body relaxed; my head was floaty.  Gray spoke about what he expected from our scene.

"I imagine there will be some rope."

"Mmm hmm."

"And some impact."

"Mmm hmm."

"Maybe some breast bondage, with me sucking on those cocoa nipples of yours."

"Mmm hmm."

"Some cock worship."

"Mmm hmm."

"And, mostly, it will be all about me... Ah, no mmm hmm for that."

"If it's all about you, shouldn't I not speak?"

"Oh no, for that one you speak."

"Mmm hmm."

He entrusted me with his drink while he went inside his cabin to compile his toy bag.  I sat and decided now would be a good time for his first gift.  When he came out, I surprised him.

"Gift now, gift later.  First, gift now."  I pulled out the cigar I had saved from the Cigar Social the previous evening.

"Well, then I'm going to get my lighter."  He quickly grabbed his lighter from inside the cabin.  "Have you heard of a half Monica Lewinsky?"

"No, but I can guess."  I stood and faced him, my butt against the porch railing.  He instructed me to lift my arms in the air.

Lifting the skirt of my dress, he said, "Ah, now this is a problem.  You're not wearing any underwear."

"No, I am not."

Leaving his porch, we easily caught a cab to the Dungeon.  On the way, he asked me how my first night of camp was.  I told him about my beating from Darien and spoke about my rope dildo with Murphy.  I also happened to mention my dual orgasms.

"Two orgasms, eh?  Okay." 

Shit, should I have not mentioned that?

Arriving at the path leading to the Dungeon, we walked over the defunct tennis court and broken cement walkway, arm-in-arm.  Strolling with him, being by his side, made me feel special.

Once inside, we looked around for space.  Gray settled on a red column with a rigging ring at the top and an attached small black landing.  He set down his bag and grabbed a metal folding chair.  I set my bag down in the back and stood at the front of the landing, waiting.  He sat in the folding chair right in front of me.

"Take your shoes off."  I slipped my sandals off and set them aside.  "Put your shoes back on."  Trying not the fall, I slipped them back on while standing.  "When I ask you to take off your shoes, I'm not just asking you to take off your shoes.  I'm asking you to strip.  Accentuate some part that you think I'd like to see.  I'm asking for a show."  He had me sit down and take off my shoe while extending my leg, giving him a pretty view of my non-underweared crotch.  Shoeless, I stood, making sure to poke my butt out towards him as I did.  

"Take your off your dress.  Now think about how you want to do this."  I wore a wrap dress that tied in front; I used a simple bow to secure it.  Looking down, I grabbed one of the ends and pulled it out.  Languidly reaching across my body, I slowly unwrapped one side, then the other, and allowed the fabric to fall.  Standing in just my strapless bra, my natural inclination to sway my hips set in.  "Very nice.  And I like the little wiggle you're doing."  He took his hat from off his head and handed it to me.  With a small flip, which made him smile, I placed it on my head.  He adjusted it just so. 

"You're a slut; why are your legs together?"  I spread my legs slowly.  "Lift up your lips."  I separated the lips of my labia, my pussy already quite wet.  He pulled out the cigar I'd given him, removed the cellophane, and used the phallic object as I had hoped, slipping it just inside me. 

"Take off your bra."  Letting my lips go, my labia settled over the cigar.  Reaching back, I began to unhook my bra.  It was hard, as it was strapless and had many hooks.  I didn't let on that I was having difficulties. 

"Take off your bra," he said again, this time harsher.  I finally freed all the hooks, held the cups to my breasts for a moment, then slowly revealed my tits to his wanting eyes.  I flung the article to the side of the landing. 

"Your nipples aren't hard; do you not like me?"  I pinched and caressed my nipples, coaxing them to attention.  He began lightly fucking me with the cigar; I moaned.  Without notice, he pulled the cigar out of my pussy and put it in my mouth.  I wet the end for him, sucking on it like I would soon be sucking his cock.  As he pulled it out, my lips closed around it and eventually let go; I wanted to wet it for him til the last possible moment.   

Happy with the results, he then instructed me to put my clothes aside.  I bent down, making sure I presented my ass.  I snatched up the dress and placed it by my bag, making sure to switch my hips as I walked.  Turning back to him, he instructed me to stand in front of the red column. 

His hands were now gloved, black tight leather.  He brought his bag to beside us and began pulling out each implement, showing me his floggers, canes, whips, and rope.  He made eye contact with each new item, a nonverbal 'What can you imagine I'll do with this?'. 

He instructed me to hold onto the rigging ring.  Then he started kissing me: my lips, my neck, my nipples.  I felt like I was drowning in his kisses.  He pinched my nipples, sucked on my nipples, worshiped my nipples like no other had before.  He grabbed my boobs, gripping hard.  All the while, I'd started grinding up against his leg and panting with each manipulation.

Stopping, he grabbed one piece of rope.  He bound my wrists and had me hold onto the ring again.  Starting the impact play, he punched and slapped at my chest.  He punched my thighs, front and sides, as well as my ass.  At one point, it became too much and I began to twitch, lifting my knee up and away.  He grabbed my left foot and extended my leg.  Pulling out a knife, he ran the blade up and down my leg and through and around my toes.  Switching, he also toyed with my right leg, and then brought the knife across my labia.

Putting the knife away, he placed his hand on my throat and began choking me.  I settled into his decision of when I should breathe.  When he took his hand away, I gasped for air.  Going to the back of the column, he choked me from behind.  I again relaxed to his will, allowing the decision of my breathing to be his and his alone.  When I eventually took in air, it was his gift.  Coming back to the front, he stopping my inhales once more.  Taking away his hand, I gasped but he immediately kissed me.  It was all very intense and fucking amazing. 

Gray then began to use his toys.  First, his flogger.  Then the Brat Bat.  Next, the Red Strip Cane.  After that, his whip.  Each time it became too intense, when I wrenched away whimpering, he got in close and said, "You're a dirty slut; why are your legs together?" and began fingering me.  I ground my hips against his hand, my yelps now moans, and licked off my essence when his fingers found my lips, but he would not work me long enough to make me cum, denying that joy til later. 

The worst of his implements, by far, was the Twisted Bitch.  It hurt so bad, from the first stroke to the last.  About nine pieces of twisted leather, varying in length, created a stingy feeling I had never felt before.  I could not believe the pain with each stroke.  There was never a point when he hit me with that thing that I was not yelping, twitching, or just down right trying to run away, so much so, that at one point, I managed to get myself behind the pole.  "Really, is that what we're doing now?"  I relented and returned to the front, taking yet still more strokes. 

Soon, though, I couldn't hold in my thoughts anymore.  "You're a Sadistic Bastard!"

"What are you talking about?  I'm nice.  Everyone knows I'm a nice guy."  All the while, he was still hitting me with his horrible, horrible implement. 

He came in close to hit me again, but I flinched, inadvertently brushing my knee against his crotch.  "Did you just knee me in the balls?"

"I'm sorry," I squeaked.  One hand found its way to my throat.  The other gripped my hair and pulled my head back.  As he growled in my ear, I could feel his hot breath on my skin.

"I don't give a fuck if you're sorry.  You're a dirty little cum slut.  I don't give a fuck what you say.  I don't give a fuck who you are.  You're just a little slut to me."

At that moment, there was nothing worse in this world than disappointing him, and I'd done just that.  I started sobbing, horrified at my mistake.  All I had wanted to do was please him, but I'd ruined everything.  Releasing his hands, he pushed my head away.

I don't know how long I sobbed, maybe fifteen seconds, maybe a minute, but suddenly his lips were to mine again, this time with even more passion and fury.  I was left breathless from his kisses, my tongue trying to keep up with the violent dance of his own.  I lost myself in that embrace.

Once he finished kissing me, he untied my wrists from the rigging ring, but my hands remained bound.  He took back his hat and placed it on his head again.  Lowering me down to my knees, he pulled out his quite hard cock. 

Guiding my head with one hand and his cock with the other, I began to worship it.  First, I licked and sucked a little on the tip.  Then he willed me to lick and suck down the sides.  Next he smacked me on either side of my mouth with his cock.  Pulling out his balls, he had me suck on them; I did so softly and gratefully.  I think I heard him moan. 

Bringing me back to the head, I took him into my mouth, gliding my tongue ring softly against his skin.  I twisted and bobbed my head gently, giving him interesting sensations and feelings.  His hand encouraged me to go deeper; he gently fucked my face. 

At one point I gagged, bringing up the water I'd drank earlier.  I didn't care about the discomfort.  Quickly, I swallowed the liquid back down, while taking still more of his cock.  All I wanted was to take as much of him as I could, for as long as I could; his pleasure was all that mattered to me.

Slowly, he extricated himself from my mouth and tucked his cock away.  I felt sad, thinking I had not had enough time to worship it, to please him.  He walked back to his chair, sat down, and once again took out his cock.  I looked at his eyes, looked at his cock, and slowly crawled towards him. 

Scooting to just the right spot, I again took him into my mouth.  I licked and sucked, working my head in a twisting motion.  Again his hand was in my hair, encouraging and guiding me.   I loved sucking his cock; I could've done it all night and been happy.

But he eventually took it away again.  He told me to lie down, my back now against the landing.  He instructed me to purse my lips and I became his cigar holder.  Disappearing out of my vision, I felt him separate my legs.  He began fingering my clit, and finally found his way to inside me.  First, two fingers.  Then three.  Four.  Five.  And, finally, slowly, he slipped his fist inside me.  All the while I moaned and bucked my hips against his hand, begging for more, with the cigar still balanced on my lips.

I had almost cum from his fingering earlier, but fisting orgasms for me are like no other.  The orgasms Gray gave me were full body, shaking, screaming orgasms.  He fucked me with his fist and I rode his hand hard.  I started calling out his name as I came, somehow balancing the cigar while doing so.  I never dropped the cigar.

That fisting was amazing.  There were too many orgasms to count, which I later told him.

Kindly, he slipped his hand out of me and joined me on the floor, holding his body against mine.    As we laid there, he began untying the rope around my wrists, which proved difficult.  All my jumping and bouncing about had turned his tie into one huge knot.  He eventually got it off and we hugged; I pulled him close to me, so very grateful for all he'd done.  We lounged there for a while, him comforting me and me on a post-orgasmic high.  At one point, he remarked, "You have a very talented pussy."  I felt proud because of his praise.

After some time, he mentioned water.  I scurried to the cooler and poured him a cup.  Then I grabbed my water bottle.  Sitting there, still high, I realized I had not yet explained to Gray the origin of my name.  I showed him my tattoos, explaining their translations. 

Then, I demonstrated their meanings.  I lightly brushed my hand against his face, his cheek, his chin, and held eye contact with him.  I brought my lips close to his, grazing just against the skin, barely touching.  "Poetry."  My hand entangled in his hair, my lips were on his, and I kissed him hard.  Once again, our tongues danced, played in each others' mouths.  My arms crossed as I languidly let myself fall into him.  "Desire," I said, once back up for air.  Hence the name, PoeticDesires. 

I was happy beyond belief, riding high on post-scene endorphins, when Gray happened to mention Midnight Snack.  This was when I remembered my treat for him.  Scampering to my bag, I slipped the item behind my back as I turned to him.  I scampered back to in front of him and knelt down. 

"Gift later."  I presented him with 86% Cocoa Ghirardelli dark chocolate.  He looked at the candy and then looked at me.

"You are good."  He opened it up, broke some off, and gave me a little.  It tasted bitter and smokey, but still delicious.  Re-clothing and gathering our things, we made our way out of the Dungeon and towards Midnight Snack.

The Rest
Later that night, I had my first scene where I negotiated being the dominant.  And, apparently, I'm mean.  I used rope, chains, and other random things.  And I had some sadistic predicament fun.  Yeah, good times.

Hanging out in the Dungeon, I saw Murphy do a hot scene with suspension and his rope dildo.  I also saw Pyro Sadist do a fire flogging scene.  After finishing journaling around 5am, I made my way back to my cabin.  On the way, I saw a car approach, but thought little of it.  Dropping off my toy bag in front of my cabin, I made my way to the Poly Perv cabin and chatted with the two folks still awake. 

As we spoke about this and that, I saw a black man walking down the road.  He spoke and I thought I recognized him.  Turns out I did; he was a friend.  I ran towards him and jumped up into a hug.  Just as I came down from that, I looked over and saw another friend.  I ran to him as well, and jumped into his arms for a hug.  This was one of those instances where staying up late made my day better. 

Good things happen to those who don't sleep.

Bedtime: 6am

Saturday, July 16, 2011


I have visited the same adult club twice and both times I have left in tears.  Tonight's adventure was eerily similar to the first; in both instances the Dominant I needed let me down.  And so I am left wanting, hurting, unable to express the emotions I had hoped would surface through physical pain.  At least tonight I was able to hold the full extent of my weeping until, I guess, now.

It is hard for me to explain just how much I need to be hit.  When I ask for such sensations, I am presenting you with the gift of myself.  When you do not follow through, it feels like a rejection of the essence of me. 

When I want domination, I am asking you take me to a place I cannot find without your aid.  Binding me, punching me, taking over control are all things I need.  Not what I want, but what I need.  And tonight, because I always put others before myself, I did not get what I needed.

Instead I am here, in my Sun Room, typing, trying to not cry too loudly as my roommate and a friend are chatting in the next room.  I think this is when I'm suppose to seek out someone to comfort me.  Maybe, once they're done their conversation.  And there, I have done it again. 

Quietly crying and typing the night away cannot be the entirety of healing salve to get me through tonight.  At some point, I have to push myself to ask for help, to ask for five minutes, a shoulder to cry on.  At some point, I have to put myself first, if in no other way than convincing myself my pain is important and needs attention.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

DOF 2011: Friday Part 1

This day, by far, is the hardest to write because so much happened.  My mind is dense with all the little details I want to include, all the moments that still live in the front of my thoughts, so much so that I have broken it up into two parts.  Here is the first half of my Friday.

I didn't start my Friday morning happy.  I am a night owl, especially at events, but my cabin mates certainly were not.  Around 9:30am, I awoke to the sounds of their prepping for the day.  I really couldn't blame them; I chose to stay out til the Sun came up.  Hence, I dealt with the consequences.

My morning was mostly meh.  I ate some breakfast and spent the majority of my time sitting in my camp chair, chatting, crocheting, and relaxing.

My lunch was semi-eventful, if nothing else for the example it set for the rest of my stay.

Like all other days, I went to our food co-op for lunch.  My plate made, I reached down to grab a soda.  As I stood, I heard from behind me, "You don't want that one."  I turned and there was Gray.

"Excuse me?"

"You don't want that soda."

"No, I do."

"But I want to see your ass again."

"Oh, well all you have to do is ask."

"But what's the fun in that?"  He gave me a hug and continued on to his cabin.

Later, while sitting with SkinnyBitch and eating our barbeque, who ventured over?  Gray.  He sat and chatted with us, while also playing with his pretty pretty iPad.  We didn't stay long; there was a class she and I both wanted to attend.  I bid Gray adieu and ran back to the cabin to get ready.

Shower, changed, and armed with my notebook, bag and water bottle, I made my way over to Creating Your Ideal Dynamic.  As per usual, I was the first to arrive.  I sat, front row center, pulled out my notebook and waited.  I chatted with folks as they arrived and was in a generally good mood.

And then, who should appear? Gray.  He took the seat next to mine in the front.  This was how my stay went, Gray and I circling each other in a sort of cute kinky dance.  (Hmm, I never did get to actually dance with him.  That needs to be remedied.)

I enjoyed the class, though I was quite nervous to speak; people that I cared about sat right behind me.  They left half way through, thankfully, which allowed me some breathing room, but only so far as the eighteen inches between my chair and Gray's.

When we disbursed, I had every intention of following Gray; his class was the next one I intended to take.  He, however, needed to run back to his cabin for supplies.  He charged me with the task of letting the other attendees know why he was running late.

[Side note: After class, I approached the presenter with a question, which was answered in the simplest of responses: You deserve to know where you stand.  Food for thought for other parts of my life, not sexy times now, though.]

Slow Rope Hot Knots
I arrived for Gray's class early, but there was a very hot 4-on-1, which turned into 6-on-1, anal topping scene happening.  I very quietly slipped past those involved and took my front row center seat, but gratefully watched the work done a mere fifteen feet to my left.  They finished just before Gray arrived, as well as the rest of the class.

I enjoyed Gray's lesson, as I knew I would.  The concept of the class was simple: What the fuck is your hurry?  He talked about taking your time while tying, using all the sensations available to you with rope against body.  Then, for the second half, he had a scene with his demo bottom, MsNaughtyEm.  This was when it paid to be early; I had the best seat in the house.

The focus of everyone in the audience was deafening; a needle drop silence fell over us all.  I sat, notebook away, elbow on my knees, eyes focused on his work.

As things progressed, I thought some of Gray's choices were interesting.  The back of his pants were suddenly gone, and he slowly became naked.  Instead of resheathing his knife, he threw it into the ground.  I thought this was all for effect, for Em.  Later he explained these were unexpected hiccups for the scene.  Gray was the only one who knew this, a testament to his Domly-ness.

One moment, he paused the scene because he saw a spec of blood on Em.  An audience member explained it was Gray's blood from a small cut on his arm.  He quickly wiped it away and continued.

But it was here my body did not cooperate.  As I sat, mesmerized, I felt a tickle in the back of my throat.  I tried to swallow it away; no go.  I tried again; no luck.  I tried to hold it back; not happening.  So, with reluctance, I quietly eased myself out of the class and quickly walked past the side of the dungeon to the front.  I then hacked for what seemed like five minutes, coughing up the offending phlegm.

Randomly, when I thought my lungs were near the end of their torment, Murphy walked by.  He asked me where he could find water, as they had run out in the dungeon.  I took him to where the hose was located, the opposite front corner of the dungeon.  Earlier, as Gray set out his things for class, he had asked me to fill his water bottle.  I did so, after having dragged the cooler inside the dungeon to the hose out front, filling it, and bringing it back in.  Yes, I really liked this man.

Having successfully showed Murphy the water source, I quietly made my way back to the class.  Gray was still engaged in the scene, so I stood back watching, not wanting to interrupt.  After about five minutes, the scene concluded and I retook my seat.  Gray went over the numerous ways things had gone arry, answered a few questions, and then dismissed us.  I gathered up my things and left, feeling bad for possibly interrupting his scene with Em.

I had arranged to be kidnapped and raped by DeepEnd at Fusion.  We had been discussing the scene for some time, off and on, and I'd decided I wanted it to happen at this event.

But, while walking back to my cabin, I came to a stark realization: Yes, I wanted to be kidnapped and raped, but I didn't ask for the scene because I wanted the experience at Fusion.  I asked for it because I wanted to secure time with DeepEnd.

Once I accepted this and owned it, I knew I needed to cancel the rape.  It was going to be a dramatic scene, bringing up lots of emotions and going deeper into my head than I ever had before.  To go into such a situation in the wrong head space would have been beyond bad.

When I got to the cabin and explained the situation to DeepEnd, he started laughing.  "If you want to spend time with me, just ask to spend time with me."

"Well, yes, but you're busy and I'm busy, and..."

"We're about to be roommates."

"Yes, I know, it's just I wanted to make sure and... You know what, can we just chat?"

"Yes, Poetic.  If you want to just chat for an hour, we'll do that."

Instantly, a weight was lifted off my shoulders.  I felt lighter, freer.  Camp would only get better from there.

Wheel of Destiny
Gray and I had arranged to have our date after the Wheel of Destiny, but my family members wanted to go to the event as well.  I was intrigued and thought, Well I can go if I leave with enough time to get ready.  I went down with RockStarIsis and we arrived just as it was getting started.  Somehow I forgot or overlooked the fact Gray was hosting the event.  Yup, we just kept circling each other throughout the entire camp.

As he got started explaining the rules, I had this feeling that I would need a little encouragement to go up.  And by encouragement, I mean I told RockStarIsis to push me because there was no way I was volunteering on my own.  After the second person had gone, RockStarIsis did indeed push me and I took a small step forward.  Gray, ever the showman, called me to the stage, acknowledging I'd volunteered by being pushed by a friend.

As I stepped up, Gray put his arm around me and took a moment to speak to the audience.

"Everyone, let's welcome PoeticDesires.  Before she spins the wheel, there is something I want to share with you all.  Yesterday Poetic told me something.  Rather, she said there is something she can never say to me.  Poetic, do you remember what word you can never say to me?"

"No."  [Side note: There is a small number of people, including Gray roughly three, who have the same privilege.] 

"That's right, ladies and gentlemen.  Poetic cannot say no to me.  Let's remember this as she spins the wheel."

I took my turn and it landed on Paint, which was disappointing.  I had had an amazing painted poetry and flogging scene at Winter Fire, and could not see anyone topping that paint experience.  However, I didn't want to spend my Kudilani cash, as I wanted to save the coin as a souvenir of my vacation.

"We'll give you more," yelled Gregg, one of the organizers for the event, who stood just outside the Pavilion holding a Ziploc bag full of the wooden coins.

So I paid my fare and spun again.  This time, it landed on piercing.  The audience howled.

"What do you want to get pierced," Gray asked me.

"Well, I have my tongue and these..." I flashed my nipples to the audience.  "So I don't know."

"What do you think, audience?  What should she get pierced?"

"Hood!"  Someone yelled.  Everyone in the audience ooo-ed.

"Wait, wait wait," said Gray.  "Poetic, are you going to get your hood pierced?"

I scrunched up my fists close to my chest, caving in my body, nervous beyond recognition.  And, somehow, I squeaked, "Yes."

There were cheers from the crowd.  Gray, with a smile, deposited my coin back in my hand.  I ran off the stage, grabbing RockStarIsis, yelling at her, telling her she was going to hold my hand.

When I approached the piercer, though, she informed me she does not do hood piercings.  Instead, this was temporary needle play.  I opted to get needles in each of my arms, red velvet flowers that matched my red dress.

To my great shock, I soon became floaty and happy, flitting about the Pavilion, showing anyone I knew my flowers, and I got RockStarIsis to take pictures of them.  I will definitely do needles again.

But I knew it was getting late and I needed to leave.  Returning to the piercing station, the flowers were removed and I quickly made my way back to the cabin to get ready for my date with Gray.

Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Belated Highlights

Okay, I know I'm suppose to be posting my DO:F 2011 entries, but they are proving difficult to write.  One, A LOT happened.  Two, it's hard to find the time to write it all down.  And three, bringing myself back to those moments is not always easy after a long day and/or night of work.  I am trying, though.

In the interim, I felt it necessary to post a little about the awesomeness that was my 28th birthday and the party my roommates and I threw.  By far, this was the best birthday party I've ever had.  Like DO:F, I will not give you every detail.  Like the title said, this is the highlight reel.

- Mother Nature has a sense of humor
Okay, this is silly beyond reproach.  One of my favorite moments of the entire day was helping my roommate DeepEnd with our pools.  Yes, we have two.  To be fair, one is a rather large kiddie pool.  The other is an 18' inflatable.  And yes, they do make them that big. 

The best part of the pool maintenance was the pouring rain that came down as he tried inflating the small pool and as we both tried to clean it of the baby oil from camp (yes, baby oil; that will be in Saturday's post).  I couldn't help but laugh loudly into the cacophony of rain drops streaming down.  Dressed in just boxer shorts and an undershirt, it didn't take long for me to look like I'd been in the shower.  It really is the simplest things that make one happy.

- Worlds colliding
So I invited people from all the parts of my life.  My best friend and her husband came by, as well as select work friends, and of course my large kinky family.  To have so many people I know, but who don't know each other, mixing and mingling and liking one another was the most pleasant of surprises.

- Alcohol
Holy shit, did our bar get stocked.  I was given a bottle of Captain Morgan, a bottle of Stoli vodka.  I received two bottles of champagne and a bottle of Godiva Chocolate liquor.  But the party was truly started by the bottle of Patron, from which we took many shots.

- Cake
Initially a kinky friend was going to come by with cupcakes.  She, however, flaked.  Without my knowledge, my roommates ran out and bought a sheet cake.  FlapJackSlim wrote my name in icing.  We gathered everyone and DeepEnd walked out the huge cake with many lit candles.  Everyone sang Happy Birthday and I blew out the candles, making my wish.

- Presents
I was so worried about the party, it didn't occur to me I would get presents.  RockStarIsis gave me a singing card that noted she was going to pay for my Harry Potter midnight showing ticket.  Among my other gifts, I received a candlestick holder, yarn, small crochet hooks, and a bag for holding my small craft pieces.  Also, the entire house received seven water guns.  SkinnyBitch, in true form, noted, "If any of you get my hair wet, I will kill you in your sleep."

- Birthday Licks
Given the number of kinky people in attendance, I expected my ass to be on fire all night.  But, somehow, everyone ended up in the Sun Room and it was decided it was time for my birthday licks.  And, I'm not quite sure how, but it was also decided everyone was to get one hit.  I took off my black boxers, the only real article of clothing I still wore besides my black tie, and used a chair to prop my ass properly.  Among the ways people chose to hit: normal spanking motion, a running start to a spank, and a leather belt. 

But, by far, my favorite was the hockey stick.  DeepEnd reserved the rights to numbers 28 and the one for good luck.  He brought in the stick to the ooos and ughs of those in attendance.  I jumped up and down with glee. 

As I was bent over in anticipation, he asked me at what level I wanted the hit.  The last time we played he hit me at 40%, so I asked for 50%.  Given plenty of room, he started with a few practice swings.  Then he counted down, 1, 2, 3HIT!  I absorbed the force of the blow, rolling up on my toes, and then settling back down in the heat of his stroke.  Ready for another, he again began with his practice swings, then 1, 2, 3HIT!  Once again, I rolled up on my toes, taking in the feeling of his fiberglass.  Settling back on my feet, I was elated.  We hugged, him wishing me Happy Birthday again.

- Moment
"I don't know what we are, but you mean a lot to me."

"You mean a lot to me, too."

- Pool Time
I don't quite remember when or how, but there was about five minutes of fun in the pool.  Then DeepEnd realized it was almost midnight and we didn't want to have our neighbors be pissed at us.

- Dancing
Hot people & good music; there had to be stripping.  I recreated my strip routine from Studio 54, for those who did not get to see it.  Praise again was showered on my 'signature move', my twenty second booty pop.  Oh, and I made $6 ($5 from SkinnyBitch and $1 from the pole).

- Making Out
I made out with some folks.  It was awesome.  That is all.

- Cuddling
Yeah, two lovely people and I spent some time alone in my room.  I was tortured with a feather and tasted some delicious nipples while also giving a hand job.  Oh, and I was fisted; seven orgasms. 

Happy Birthday to me.

Thursday, July 7, 2011


On the eve of my 28th birthday, I am more nervous than I would have anticipated.  I've said this quite a few times lately, but that doesn't make it any less true: 27 was a really good year for me.

From last July to now, my life has taken multiple amazing twists and turns.  A recap!

- Apartment: I moved into a single bedroom spot where I was able to make a life all my own.  It was my safe haven, my oasis in the desert of busy life.

- Summer Camp: I allowed myself to explore kink on my terms, finding my way to the awesome slut you all know and love today.  I met good people, made discoveries about who I am and what I want.  I opened myself up to be who I am and not who others wanted me to be.

- Happy Hour: Walking up the stairs to the bar that first Thursday night was almost as nervous making as going to camp by myself.  But I found my people; I found another home.  Stories, advice, laughs, and random dance parties are just want this kinkster needed.  There I formed strong friendships that have sustained me this past year. 

- Winter Fire: The second jewel of my kinky triple crown, I allowed myself to be me without using my friends as a crutch.  I created yet still more friendships and learned yet still more about myself and my kink.  And it was fun too.

- Work: Raises, more company opportunities, and general approval of my work as a tech among all of my employers has helped me to grow confidence in myself and the job I do.  To put it frankly, I am the shit and everyone knows it.

- Fusion: Um, wow!  I know I have not finished recounting the multitude of awesomeness that was my kinky weekend, but fuck.  Trust me.  It was amaze balls and then some.  And yet another instance of me learning just how the shit I am.  Oh, I am.

- House: And now, sitting here in the Family Room with my kinky family in our awesome new house, I am happy, truly happy.

Life, you have been awesome.  In the year to come, please keep it up.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

DOF 2011: Thursday

No matter what way you dress it up, blogs are acts of masturbation.  Whether stroking your Johnson or stroking your ego, it's all very solo-sexual.  So each time I've thought about writing these posts, it's felt like I'm about to jizz all over the internet, spewing my hot verbal girl juices.  And let's face it: my time at camp was a boiling pot of lusty awesomeness. 

But what has finally convinced me to write these posts is just the sheer glee in my voice when I told a vanilla friend today just some of the stories of my experience.  If I'm that happy about it, how can I not share it with the world.  And by world, I mean the twelve of you who read this blog.  So here we go, my camp entries.

For convenience sake, I will not give you every single detail of each day, just the highlights.

Pool Time
We (my kinky family and I) arrived at camp around 1pm.  Soon after depositing our things in our cabin, we found ourselves naked in the pool together.  There was a large inner tube, big enough to fit all of us, that we dubbed Slut Island.  We floated along, relaxing, shooting the shit, splashing each other, and generally having a merry happy time. 

At one point, Deep_End attempted to throw TinyGiraffe into the inner tube, which had the hilarious, I mean horrible, outcome of her sliding right threw the hole in the center. 

For me, though, the best part was the ten minutes or so of silent sunbathing.  I laid on the inner tube with Deep_End and FlapJackSlim, my back to the sky, my mind, for the first time in months, solidly centered on my body and the immediate air around me.  I listened to the water lapping.  I felt the warmth of the sun on my skin.  I was grounded, fully in me, and not flitting about.  It was the best way to start my vacation.

Cigar & Ash
I only took one class Thursday, Cigar & Ash, taught by a wonderful gay man named Edge. 

I've had sexual inclinations towards cigarettes and cigars for some time now.  I had family members who smoked and both of my serious relationships were with men who smoked. Hence I have lots of positive memories with the smell.  But oh, I had no idea how much I truly loved cigars until this class.

As always, I was teacher's pet.  I arrived early, wearing my red H&M one piece dress, sat front row center, and tried to strike up a conversation with Edge once he arrived.  As the class proceeded, I volunteered multiple times for demos.  Like Edge would say later, I went from a cigar virgin to a cigar slut in a matter of hours.

First, I wet the end of the cigar for him by sucking on it like a cock.  Then, I held his lighter while he lit his cigar.  Later, I licked ash off of his boot.  Crawling towards my snack, I remember my happiness at finally being able to service leather on foot again.  When I sat up after consuming my morsel, I commented, "Hmm, tasty."

Later, he showed a trick: blowing smoke into a man's chest hair.  The smoke lingered for an interesting effect.  So I raised my hand and asked, "Will that work for other hair, like on my head?"  He tried it; a positive reaction from the class followed.

Towards the end, when he asked for questions, I inquired what I should do to become more schooled in cigars.  How does one begin to play?  His response: he invited me to the front and started trying more things with me.  He blew smoke in my face.  He put a gas mask over me and blew smoke into the mask's air hose.  And finally, he forced me to smoke his cigar, covering my nose with one leather gloved hand, the other holding the cigar in my lips.  I held my breath for as long as I could, but finally inhaled a few puffs.  It was all very naughty.  I was hooked.  

SkinnyBitch, MollyWren, and I decided we wanted to explore camp a bit.  Specifically, we wanted to find the Labyrinth.  We ventured over in the general area where I was told it was located.  After a few false openings in the trees, we did indeed find it.  Gravel and stone marked the path to walk.  Both SkinnyBitch and I walked the trail. 

I am not much for woo woo.  I am just this side of an atheist.  Still, I have to acknowledge I felt something as I took those steps.  I recalled a Buddhist trick I read in a story somewhere about counting your inhales and exhales.  I used it to try to keep myself in the moment, to focus on each step, to follow my path clearly.

Before I began, I took five long slow deep breaths, my hands at my sides, my face towards the sky.  At the center, I did the same.  And as I exited, once again.  I don't know what I felt, but it seemed right to me that we had come to this place and done this ritual.  I knew I would be back to the Labyrinth once my camp had ended.

Cigar Social & Gray
At the end of class, Edge promoted an event that night: the Cigar Social.  Free cigars would be given away and we were again granted permission to smoke in the Pavilion.  "Just please don't burn it down."

So my kinky family and I made our way there after dinner (and a costume change: short red skirt, black tank top).  I grabbed a free cigar and hid it away for later.

I helped introduce SkinnyBitch to some of the fun things you can do with cigars, i.e. I was doing my homework.  I helped light her cigar.  I took in whiffs of her smoke.  I had her and Deep_End do the smoke trick in my hair.  It was a generally happy fun time.

As we were about to leave for another event, Sex & Chocolate held in Sex-o-Rama, Graydancer walked in.  It wasn't that I was surprised he was there.  I knew he liked cigars and had a feeling he might show up.  It was just that the social had been going on for so long, at least an hour and a half, and he had yet to pop in.  So I surmised he wasn't going to show.  How very wrong I was.

When I saw him come in, and set up shop on the cushioned table, I told my friends I would go over to say hi and then join them to go up to the other event.  Gray and I met at Winter Fire and had been in contact through emails. I thought it best to reintroduce myself and check in about our play date we had loosely setup.  SkinnyBitch looked at Gray, then looked at me, gave a wry smile, and said, "Yeah, say hi."  When you are right, you are right.

To be honest, I was nervous.  This is nothing new; I get nervous about a lot of things and because of a lot of people.  But there was more weight to these nerves.  I'd had a crush on Gray since, literally, about three minutes into his class I'd attended at Winter Fire.  My heart was fluttering.  I wasn't sure my voice would work. 

It did, though.  I said hi.  He said hi.  We began chatting.  I mentioned my attendance in the Cigar & Ash class.  This piqued his interest, and he asked me to talk to him about what I learned that day.

Did I mention I'm a teacher's pet?

I pulled out my notebook, flipped to the first page of my cigar notes, and began to give him the class I had just attended a few hours earlier.  As I began, he opened what looked like a small briefcase.  Inside lay about a dozen cigars of varying sizes and shapes.  Gray did not dick around when it came to this indulgence.  He selected one, removed its wrapper, lit it, and began smoking.

As I spoke, he often interjected with agreement, but also some tidbits of his own.  I scribbled notes on the tips he spoke of. 

I talked about the three things used in cigar play: heat, smoke, and ash.  I also spoke about the different things I'd done in the class.

"What about spanking," he asked. 


"Yes, with the ash." 

"We didn't go over that." 

"Oh, may I?"


This night, like almost every other moment of camp, I was not wearing underwear.  He stood, lifted up my skirt, broke off a chunk of ash into his hand, and began spanking me, rubbing the crumbles into my skin.  The feeling was delicious.  My skirt stayed up for the next fifteen minutes, just in case he had the urge to do that again. 

Still talking about ash, he took my right hand, broke off another chunk into it, and closed my hand.  It was warm, comforting.

Speaking about heat, I mentioned how you hold the cigar close to the skin to incite the sensation.  In reply, he hooked his finger into my bra to pull it down.  To assist, I jerked my tank top down, busting one of the seams.  Needless to say, I didn't care.  He held his cigar close to my right nipple, but the ash was too thick for me to feel the heat.  Once again, this was of little importance to me.  The mere act was enough for my excitement.

When speaking of service, Gray talked about being a person's cigar holder, which again was not brought up in class.  So, he showed me.  I turned around, leaned back against his lap, and looked up into his eyes.  "Purse your lips as if you are about to kiss me."  He balanced the cigar on my lips.  I half stood half laid there, looking up into his eyes, happy to do this service for him.  Yeah, I was hooked.

Some time during our conversation Edge, my instructor, came over.  He gifted a cigar to Gray and spoke his infamous line about me.  Also, Miss Bootblack 2011 came over to chat with Gray.  Gray gifted her a cigar, as well.  All the while, I'm standing there, smiling, tickled pink my night was going so well.

I don't know when it was exactly, but at some point in our conversation, it occurred to me that Gray was flirting with me.  I can't help it; I am by nature a flirt.  But the realization that my feelings were reciprocated, that he too had affection for me, was enough to fill my night with joy.

To be at camp is to be high off of your body's own drugs.  Gray had me on cloud 9.

Our conversation did not last forever, and I did want to meet up with my friends again.  Gray, too, had plans for the rest of his night.  We decided our date would be Friday evening after the Wheel of Destiny.  We both strolled up to Sex-o-Rama, chatting about the things we liked to do.  As we walked and talked, it became even more obvious to me how compatible we were.  My anticipation for our date grew.

Once arrived, I gave Gray a hug bye and began meandering around.  I did not see any of my family, but I did see Murphy Blue.  Murphy and I met at Summer Camp last year and he owed me a rope scene.  I had arranged a loose playdate with him as well for this camp. 

I walked over and began to chat with him.  Not two minutes into the conversation, guess who walks up: Gray.  He greeted Murphy and gave him a hug.  'They're friends,' I thought, a fact that had not dawned upon me.  Hmm, two guys with fun personalities and are known for their rope skills.  Fucking d'uh.

As Gray spoke to Murphy, his hand found its way to my ass, and Gray made mention of my ash spanking.  I don't know if it was intentional, but that beat felt like he was claiming me, like a dog pissing on a bush.  I can't help but smile when recalling that moment.  Neither Murphy nor I mentioned our playdate in front of Gray.  Later, while walking to midnight snack, we agreed on Saturday night. 

When we parted, I had an inkling my dual interactions with Gray and Murphy were not over.

As I sat eating and chatting, Darien walked by.  Randomly, he leaned over and punched me in my arm.

"That's just a taste of what's to come."

"What?  I thought since you were on staff you didn't have time to play?"

"What? No. What are you doing Saturday?"


"Actually, what are you doing in the next eight to ten minutes?"

"I have no idea."

"It takes me eight to ten minutes to smoke a cigarette.  Meet me outside in eight to ten minutes."

After said prescribed time, following a quick restroom break, I met Darien and we walked over to the empty Pavilion.  He had me strip and lie down face up on the same cushioned table I had just a few hours earlier spent chatting with Gray.

Darien started with a massage, working out the muscles in my shoulders, arms, and legs.  Then he began to lightly slap and punch my chest, my stomach, my thighs.  Gradually, the force of his blows increased.  My body shook with the thuds of his fists.  It was, at times, unrelenting.  He used his elbow to press in hard on parts of my body.  I began to cry, as I often do. 

I wailed.  I wept. I let my emotions flow out.  Often he looked down at me, a stare of at once apathy at my pain and glee at his inflictions.

And of all the things that could have come to my mind and floated in that space, the only sentence that repeated over and over again in my head was, 'Daddy, why don't you love me?'  With each hit, those words came.  'Daddy, why don't you love me?  Daddy, why don't you love me?'  Again and again and again.

When it seemed like I could take no more, when my safeword was a breath about to escape my lips, Darien told me to roll on my side.  He then got up on the table, held his body close to mine, and let me weep in his arms.  He had hit me for about 45 minutes.

After what was probably five minutes of me balling in his embrace, I was able to sit up.  He got me paper towels to wipe my face and blow my nose.  It's not pretty when I start wailing in a scene, at least not on my end.

As I cleaned up, he noted how he believed I had yet more to let out, yet more to release.  Somehow, I found myself in a thirty minute conversation with this man, who was far more profound than I had ever imagined, talking about the locking away of my emotions, my fear of crying in front of my friends because I saw it as a sign of weakness, how I had to be strong for everyone else around me. 

And then, magically, he said the most obvious thing.  "I believe just the opposite. Crying in front of others is a sign of strength.  And, if they are really your friends, why would they think less of you for showing them that part of you?  If anything, they'll love you more."

My mind was blown.  Some part inside of me shook.  It was as if a tremor had set off some unknown set of dominoes.  And all that from pain, tears, and words. 

Murphy & the rope dildo
I never want to go to sleep at camp.  And I've found that if you just stay up, good things happen.  Case in point, my first night at camp.

I'd already had amazing flirty time with Gray, lots of fun in my cigar class, been punched by Darien, and made new friends at the Boston Smokers' Circle.  So my first day at camp didn't need anything else to make it amazing.  And yet, because I stayed up, I had my first orgasms of my vacation.

I meandered my way into the Dungeon around 5am, hoping to see an interesting scene.  To my delight, I saw Murphy was working on a suspension.  But, almost instantly, I could sense something was off.  His bottom was not giving him any energy.  I could see the care and effort he was putting in, but there was just nothing coming from her end.  Maybe she was tired.  Maybe she was expecting something different.  All I know is he was giving and she was not. 

And, as if on cue, as soon as he lifted her, she began complaining.  She was in pain and would not give him any time to adjust the harness.  She wanted down, now.  Murphy obliged, grounding her and quickly removing the ropes.  She gathered up her things and left; no hug, no bye.

I felt bad for Murphy.  Again, as is my nature, I wanted to make him feel better.  He noticed his small audience of one and beckoned me over to talk. 

I offered to help him pack up.  He taught me how he liked his rope coiled.  I had him check my work.  He approved of my coil and I started another.  I was not near as fast as him, but I was able to finish a few.  I then organized his rope in three piles, for the different types of rope he had, and ordered them by length approximately from their size.  I helped him pack his bag, first handing him the rope, then his other accoutrement (carbiners, straps).  I was very awake, so I offered to carry his bag back to his cabin.  He thanked me, but politely refused.

We began to commiserate about how we would both need to make ourselves go to sleep.  Even so late in the evening, which was soon turning into early morning, I didn't feel groggy. 

Then Murphy got this look on his face and said, "You know what, I'm going to do something to help you sleep."  He pulled out a piece of rope and began to work on something.  I, in turn, pulled out my little piece of rope I carry in the pocket of my Zim jacket and began to play.  When I looked back up, he was finished.  He had created his rope dildo.  'Oh,' I thought. 'But, no.  He's just made this to show it off to me.' He pulled out a condom and put it over the rope.  'Hmm.'

Murphy stood.  "Come on."  I followed.  He told me to take off my clothes.  'Ok,' I thought.  And then, 'Wait, is this really going to happen?'

"Lie down here."  It was yet another cushioned bench, this one suspended from truss.  It swung as I hopped up.  I laid down and looked up at him.  A breath later, I was gone. 

He began massaging my clit, but not slow and soft.  This was hard and fast, like a human vibrator.  I immediately began moaning.  My eyes closed.  My head rolled back.  I reached out my hand and found his leg.  I pulled him closer to me.  I wanted to feel his body against mine. 

And then, he inserted the rope.  One loud deep breath and "Fuck!" escaped my lips.  There I was, first day of camp, being fucked by a rope dildo at 5:15am.  My hand found his ass.  I squeezed it.  Heavy breathing mixed with expletives.  I came, twice, screaming his name.

Bedtime: 5:45am.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Right Now

What to write?

Well, I could always write a re-cap of my camp experience, which, trust me, you would love reading.  And I would love writing.  And maybe I'll do that later.  But right now, I just kinda want to blabber about how I feel in this specific moment and time.  And yes, it will reference camp, because even a week out, the events held there are still effecting me.  But this is not my camp entry.

I'm sitting in the back yard of my new home, birds chirping, no breeze.  We have big trees, trees I plan to try to climb soon.  We have a shed, a brick grill, and a small enclosed patch of land that will become our vegetable garden.  And we have grass, quite a bit of grass.  When I call this my home, it really feels it.  My apartment had been my own for the past year, but this feels... different. 

My roommates off handly talk about our kinky family, but that's what this feels like.  After living alone for a year, and being pretty content with that, I find myself overjoyed at the notion of coming home to people, sharing a life with folks, and being a part of something everyday.

While at camp, I started to have the inklings of how great my life was about to be.  We all roomed in the same cabin and shared a lot of our time with each other.  Our camp was like a family vacation.

Though to be fair, I found myself in many a circumstance without them.  This wasn't a bad thing; in fact, it felt like I was blossoming into my whole kinky self.  I knew I had them to run home to, and I felt comforted by this, but my camp life was my own to lead.  I could not use them as a crutch.  I could not hide under their skirts, follow their heels, watch what they did, and not throw myself into the experience.

And oh, did I throw myself into the experience.  I am not being hyperbolic when I say those four days may have been the best four days of my life.  How do I explain how much I loved the people I was with, the conversations I had, the punches, the slaps, the bruises?  How do I explain the sideways smiles, the bit lips, the flutter of my heart?  How do I explain the shear glee of it all? 

So... I'm never the popular girl.  I'm never the one people chase after.  I'm never the one who gets all the attention, which is why I crave it so.  (And yes, Ryan, I know this is me spouting my life script.  And I know I need to work against my inner dialogue to break myself of emotional chains holding me back.  Getting to that.)  But, somehow, for those four days, it felt like I was that girl. 

I asked for what I wanted, and yet received so much more.  I made a connection.  Is there really anything else I need to say?

So, I'm happy.  My life isn't perfect.  I know there are many things I want to change, to grow, to develop.  But, right now, just with what I have and what I've experienced, I have to smile.

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Night Owl

It's 3:27am and I'm awake. This is not insomnia; I'm just awake. Not really sleepy, cause I took a nap around 10pm til 11:45pm, but I think I'll make myself sleep soon.

So, I moved, mostly. About a third of my shit is around me now, in a house I'm sharing with three friends, who happen to all be in a relationship, and another friend who is riding our couch for the summer. Yup, we're that house.

I forget lots of things, as displayed in previous posts. Tonight's forgetting: most people don't randomly stay up nights just fucking around on their phones. To be fair, before this move, I would've been watching random cable TV, which I think is a little more normal.

So, um, yeah. There are people here. I can't just stomp around, dancing randomly to my Thriller album (vinyl; yup, I'm cool). Staying up requires me to be semi-quiet, thereby muffling my outbursts of laughter. And it's dark, like making me uncomfortable dark. (Yes, I admit it: I'm an adult who's scared of the dark. Bite me.)

So, compromise. That thing I haven't had to do for a year. We meet again, fucker.

My job, by nature, gives me an odd schedule and weird sleeping habits. I was able to stay up at camp (a long post to come about that later) til 5/6am every night cause I'm used to running on little to no sleep. Oh, and of course the adrenaline helped.

But now that I'm living with people who have 9-5 jobs, I have to remember to tip toe at night, come in through the side door because they bolted the front (yeah, that will need to change; fucking pissy arrangement there), and try to be, fuck, considerate.

Living with friends is fun… right?
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