I knew I only had a 50-50 shot of seeing the Gent. I knew I didn't want to wait around at home only to be let down by his inability to have me over. I knew I needed a distraction.
I ventured out to a kinky happy hour tonight. I dressed cuter than normal, just in case luck was on my side. I smelled good, looked good, and was in a generally good mood, but this was at the beginning of the night when I still held out hope.
As the evening wore on, my mood slowly dipped down. As the minutes passed, it seemed less and less likely that he would be free tonight.
I distracted myself with limes, booze, and friends. I spoke with a gorgeous couple, ArrogantSlut and WantAWhip. The subject of rope came up. I had just so happened to bring some; granted it was in hopes of using it on another, but being prepared for one eventuality can occasionally aid you in another endeavour.
We found a spot to tie, but did not start. It turned out they were about to teach a class on basic rope, a class I felt I did not need. Rain check for later in the evening.
I found myself at the bar. I slowly sipped my drink. I feasted on the limes of my friends. I realized my night was not going to work out as I had hoped.
I sent the Gent two photos over text. He responded. We chatted. He confirmed my assumption.
With the class ended, the lovely couple returned. It was time to cash in the chit. We again found a corner. I decided to be lazy. He sat in front of me as I tied.
I wanted to be playful, try something new. I had strict parameters: tying only. No beating (punching, slapping, kneeing, etc), as I had hoped. For some reason I didn't dare ask about kissing or massaging. To me, since one set of intimate acts was off limits, I didn't bother to inquire about any other.
I focused on my tying. On skin-to-skin contact. On cinching the rope tight. On having my body near his when possible. On the beauty of the forms. On the playfulness of my practice.
For a few fleeting moments, I was happy-bubbly-giggly. For a while, I was pleased I'd come to happy hour. For a bit, I wasn't disappointed.
We might be able to squeeze in a dinner tomorrow, but more than likely I will not see him for at least a week. Total suckage.
But I made new friends. I tied up a very cute muscular boy. And I have an open invitation to do it again. I'd call that winning.
Dead Pestilence: A Word or Two on Roger Ailes - I hope Roger Ailes died screaming. I hope he felt every sensation of pain from the subdural hematoma he suffered; I hope that the shocks wracked his worn-o...