After Jim's bootblacking, I looked at my phone. It wasn't quite time for my next play date; I was to black MrBlackBeard's boots.
I ventured up to a cocktail hour for Amethyst's birthday. There I found DeepEnd and SkinnyBitch relaxing with our friends. I sipped on my Sparx and eased into socializing with my folk.
Then, a thought occurred to me. I texted Gray, wondering if he would like his boots blacked that evening.
As I talked with DeepEnd, he spoke about taking this weekend to chill at the event. I liked spending time with my roommates, just us being, the stress of our everyday lives hopefully a lost memory for the moment.
I stayed for a bit at the cocktail hour, but scurried off eventually. I had a pair of boots to love.
Heading downstairs, I met BlackBeard at the bootblacking station. Venturing into the dungeon area, we found an empty spot on a futon in the hallway.
He sat. I asked what kind of blacking he wished to have. He, quite succinctly, said, "These bitches are dirty and need some cleaning."
One of the reasons why people love BlackBeard is that you know exactly where you stand with him. This was not about D/s or service. He had boots that needed blacking and I had promised him a blacking.
I stripped down to just my boots and a pair of underwear. (Yes, I know, me wearing underwear. Shocking. I was worried about the strict no nudity policy in the lobby, as my skirt was about an inch away from flashing my pussy as I walked.)
I sat out my kit and got to work. As I loved on his leathers, I could hear my dungeon mix playing. I started lip-syncing to the music. I smiled, enjoying my time with his leather. I let myself play, let myself be, my focus on making his leather shine and pleasing myself in the interim.
I loved the look of my boots as I blacked his pair. I loved the feel of giving this service to a friend, of enjoying this act as others interacted with him. Normally, when others talk into my scene, I get upset or annoyed or occasionally angry. This time, I truly didn't give a shit. This was about me enjoying time with his leathers and BlackBeard enjoying his lounge time. Once I finished, he thanked me and we parted ways.
Gray eventually texted me a few hours later, which surprised me because I had thought he was long asleep. He was not wearing his boots Friday night, but instead suggested we play Saturday night.
Jim and Gray, the same night, back to back. I felt like a very, VERY, lucky girl.
Haiku Review of 2024: 20th Anniversary of Reducing the Fuckery to a Size We
Can Handle
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That's right. Back in 2004, I did my own review of the year through the
delicate poem with the incisive power of a stiletto made of metaphor. Then
rude r...
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