I woke up to the smoke alarm around noon as SkinnyBitch and DeepEnd prepared food for the kids. I couldn't go back to sleep.
I hung out with the roommates and the little ones before they had to depart. One child, as I stood in the kitchen drinking fruit juice, wrote me a note: "I Love you crustin". I helped the tiny humans pack up their things, hugged them all goodbye, and teared up a little as the car drove away. The house was quiet and empty without them, but only for a few hours.
SkinnyBitch started cooking for our dinner that night. I ran to the grocery store to pick up the supplies she still needed. When I came back, Alice laid on one of the sofas. I ordered her to not get up. I grabbed a blanket, covered her, closed the curtains, and turned off the lights. She said she didn't think she could close her eyes. She slept until our friends started arriving.
As SkinnyBitch cooked, I cleaned and helped setup tables and chairs. When we were to a point that I could steal away, I went upstairs to take a shower. While getting ready, I had my first transportation text of the evening. I shuttled three people from public transportation hubs back to the house. I also fit in a quick run to pick up mixers for our bar.
When I did begin to settle into the party, I found myself at the bar pouring people drinks. This was when we realized we needed ice. I made one last run to the grocery store and parked in such a way that I would not be blocked in; I didn't want to risk having to go out again.
When I returned, 16lbs of chill in tow, all of our guests had arrived and most everyone was eating. DeepEnd, thankfully, had whipped up a batch of his Long Island Ice Teas and set it aside for me on the bar. I poured a glass and tried to calm myself back down.
People chatted; I poured more drinks. Eventually I got food, but ended up eating it in fits and starts. DeepEnd & SkinnyBitch, in their dual Dexter shirts, carved the two chickens SkinnyBitch had roasted while I took pictures and feasted on the skin. People mixed and mingled. For some unknown reason, it took me a long time to get into the flow of things.
Eventually, around 9:30pm, folks said they were ready for cigars. I brought down my kit, graciously suggested those who did not want to be caught in the haze should depart, and finally started to feel at ease. Stripping down, I found myself in the middle of everyone, my bootblacking kit set up and my humidor ready to serve.
Four men, including DeepEnd, ManKraken!, and ThreeWay elected to enjoy tobacco that evening. I let each choose his taste. I then unwrapped, wet, cut, and lit all four cigars.
Once everyone was puffing away, I turned to DeepEnd's boots. I gave them a thorough cleaning before getting on my knees and loving on his leather. As I kissed and caressed, he reached down, massaged my head, and scratched my back. As a friend watched on, she asked why he was using his hand as an ashtray. "Just give her a few minutes. Then you'll see why the little bit of pain is worth it."
Once I completed my worship, DeepEnd presented my treat. I ate the ash from his hand. Occasionally he blew smoke into my curls. (I had, in fact, washed my hair to remove the straight locks just in case cigar service was on the menu for the evening.) As has become our way, we ended our moment with a small kiss.
I completed his blacking with a thorough treatment of the leather with shoe grease. As I worked, DeepEnd mentioned he read yesterday's blog, and said the party sounded fun. Once again, I forgot people, including individuals I know, read what I happen to share with the world in this forum.
When I finished with DeepEnd's boots, he informed me ManKraken! was waiting for me. I turned around and saw ManKraken! had a hand full of ash. I ate the morsels from his palm. To his right, ThreeWay was also ready. I licked up the flecks from his hand as he quietly moaned.
ThreeWay commented on how much he enjoyed my work to his fellow cigar smokers. DeepEnd also complimented my skills. ManKraken! said my eating of ash felt like getting a blow job on his hand. "Yeah, it's like getting a handy, literally."
With the cigar service mostly ended, I gave quick bootblacking service to two other individuals whose leathers needed work. I remained on the floor, naked, taking in the party, finally relaxed.
The 1st is RockStarIsis's birthday. A round of birthday spankings broke forth. As she was bent over a chair, taking her licks, I whispered to DeepEnd "hockey stick." He asked SkinnyBitch to retrieve the implement. DeepEnd traded all 27 of his licks for one swing of his hockey stick. RockStarIsis took her blow, cursing for some seconds afterwards. I softly rubbed her ass to soothe her.
I don't know who opened the first bottle of champagne, but I will gladly take credit for how most of us drank it. I asked to partake of my share of champagne in the hip hop video fashion. I tilted back my head and waited for the liquid to be poured into my mouth. It dripped down my face and onto my chest, but also into my eyes. I shut my lids and calmly asked for a napkin to save my eye sight for the evening. Many people after me enjoyed the beverage in this way. I loved inspiring fun for others.
I stayed naked until it was time to give the last rides home. For the majority of the rest of the evening, most of us congregated in the living room and talked, or surrounded all the food on the dining room table and ate. The festivities ended around 2:30am.
Now that was a fantastic way to start a new year.
The Immigrant "Invasion" Is Just WMDs All Over Again
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There is no immigrant invasion at the southern border of the United States.
That needs to be said at the outset any time you wanna talk about What's
Wron...
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