Men. Oh, and life smut, cigars, strippers et al

I could feel my cock hard in my pants, straining against soft fabric holding me in tight as his lips locked on mine, a tear rolling down his face. I've missed him so much. I debated with myself if this was some sort of rebound, a desperate need to have someone that loves me in my life actively that sees me as a man... but no, I have never stopped loving him.He stunk of sweat. I buried my face in his armpits and breathed in deeply. He'd been a slut all night, being beaten silly- but I didn't want to beat him. I wanted to violate him. I wanted to use him. I wanted to cum up his ass as he cried and begged for breath kissing me. I did.I apologized. He cried and did as well, recounting and realizing as I held him in the cage downstairs after I'd had my way with him what had been so many of our issues. He is contagious- a dangerous thing for emotions. He is contagious in the worse ways- anger spreading like wildfire and broken hearts laid to waste. He is contagious in all the best ways- a smile a mile wide drawn across my face as I sent him for water. He is a very good boy- he just needs someone to be his Sir instead of expecting him to never trip over his own too feet, a puppy grown to fast, a brave man buried beneath a wounded child.My teeth buried into his flesh as I fucked his ass, spread wide beneath me. I wanted his tears, I needed them... I deserved them.Curled talking the hours flew by and here we were, laundry everywhere, lube on the floor, lips and cocks and fears all balled up into one and the truth was laid out- we need to be in one anothers lives.Saturday we talked about Cigars. I have a growing cigar fetish. Ice Brett Camins that night had just gifted me with a 25-30 year old Dominican, still wrapped, that I'd tucked behind my bald ear. He is one hot dyke, my god, even if his yamica kept flying away as he set up his ropes. He is frightenly dashing.We talked about cigars, and it hit me that my cigar fantasies involving my Pup, when they were mixed with images of booze, always were Brandy or Scotch... funny because my cigar fantasies involving Duncan always involve red wine or Port. As the rest of the party faded away I wove a tale...I can see you there at the doorway, slowly opening my humidor and pulling a Greycliff from the mingling odors of other cigars, cut, punch, and light it for me... an even, cool draw escapes your lips as you see me sip from a sniffer in my high-backed leather chair. As you kneel before me and hand me my smoke I lock eyes for a moment and order you down to the ground, tongue against my boot. You would make the perfect footrest...The tale weaved on, as he picked up one segment and then I another. His cock hard beheath his kilt, he sucked me off until I was so close, then I pulled him back up to my lips and forced my smoke down his lungs. Gasping for air he needed me, begged for me, and I pushed him down, pushed him off... I love this dance we weave. Cigar play turns to puppy play and his claws dig in before I take the lead once more and push his body down and use him until I'm done. A ruined rope, a bloody towel, a stack of shed tears and I order him to clean up the mess.I needed this. I need this. I deserve this.Where it will lead this time, I don't know. But I love my Pup.With a cigar tucked behind my ear I also had the distinct pleasure of being introduced to Frank Strona on Saturday eve as well. Frank is an incredibly woofy leather man here in Portland who is very well known for his Interrogation Play. We talked a lot about the concepts of Invocations and Evocations- pulling energy from outside or from deep within you... that when interrogating someone if you flinch once as the Top, the game is over. He's smart, sexy, looks damn snappy in tight leather... I hope I get to see him again down the road.Saturday I awoke and made my way to Starbucks for some alone time with a cinnamon roll and a pumpkin blended thing. The Boys (in this case Bakrath, down from Seattle, Desiree's Barbarian, and Duncan) came across me and soon enough Duncan was tucked into bed (he's been sick as a dog) and the remaining boys and I were off to Venom. I bought autoclaved and non-autoclaved fresh body jewellery for $1 a piece (yes even for 2g rings) at the garage sale and won some hypo needles in the silent auction. My Class on "Rope For Fucking" was very well attended (35-40 people) and cramped- and I've added Bearclaw quick-ties to that class when it is the 2-hr version and I have a dynamic group of students- and yes, this was a great group of students. Then off to dinner and preparedness planning- saw BoxofChaos in passing. Miranda is a weed!Bakrath and I headed then off to meet up with Desiree and her Barbarian at the Acropolis. I drank, I shmoozed hot inky girls into maybe modeling for me, I had a good time and in general oggled one incredibly hot woman named Jenna who had amazing ink and one of the most alluring pieces of genital body mod I've ever seen (a gold and zirc curved barbell that ran along her perrenium between her cunt and her ass). Every time she opened her legs the jewel sparkeled in the light to draw you in like a siren through the waves. Had some local producers ask if I'd want to do a local Halloween show as a rope gig, but I'll be in Phoenix. Post Acropolis it was back to Venom...Men.Yeah.and all of Duncan and I'd standard D/s stuff (sans body fluids) that is simply who we are...It's hard to acclimate to being home.