Romance = Ribs: A Handfasting and more

We woke late, a blessing after a week on less than 5 hours of sleep a night. We woke terribly late in fact, having gone to bed at 5am and waking at 5pm. Leisurely shower, slowly shaving my body except my velvet-soft head as I let the water wash away the world, wash away troubles, wash away whatever I didn't need to carry into our ritual that day.

I dressed simply yet elegantly- black lace bra with black thong adorned with rich details in rhinestones, a long periwinkle hippy dress that clung to every curve and sports sandals... we had a hill to climb after all. Sunglasses, it was a bright day still, even with the sun sinking in the sky. He was in a tan kilt and brown leather vest, long brown hair laying flat against his back and beard braided tight. A single silver bead with an eye on it lay between the plaits in his beard, a protection against the evil eye that I had woven in when he went to Australia that he only took out now when he rebraided.

In my purse I carried my phone, mini-wallet, keys and the cords. Monk had made 2 sets of 5ft long handfasting cords for us... one set with knots on each end, and one set with whipped ends. We decided to take the simpler set, and left the other set coiled at Kwan Yin's feet on the alter atop the spinal tap needle from my scene with Nursie, my blade from the Labrynth cutting, and an ornate pen I set on the alter as an invocation to Parvati. The 3 main alters at the house keep evolving, changing, a living memory and blessing.

On the way to Washington Park we stopped to get gas and I watched his every move as he wiped down the windows. This man, this spirit, I am about to take as my own, is alreay my other half. His strength inspires me, his weaknesses endear me to his humanity, his femininity touch my heart and his rage strikes fear in me. He is complex, beautiful... these callings to the Gods? Formalities. But formalities and rituals are much of what we live our lives by, and I heed the call.

We both wore our hematite rings- mine on a leather thong about my neck, and his on his left ring finger. We held hands, with me walking to his right... and we walked up the hill.

Usually when I walk up the hill at Washington Park, a trip I've made many times as it's a stunning location to do impromptu photo shoots at, I cut corners. I either change paths, or cut across fields, or climb the stairs. We took the long route up. Took the longest switch-backs, hand in hand cut no corners and breathed in life together with each step. Wild wishes blew through the air as bachelor buttons and clover erupted on the hillside. We spent most of the journey alone save momentary brushes with other humans (and a few dogs)... but the heat of the sun on the top of my head and the passing winds reminded me why we were there and that we are never tuly alone.

The Summer House was lush- what had been barely beginning to take on green when he had asked me to marry him was full of life. Part of me wishes there were a way to have the wedding there... but it is impossible for those outside the house to see inside this time of year, save below our waists. As interesting as that might be, it wouldn't do. Instead, this is our place for privacy, for intimacy, for divinity to grace us with its presence and hear our calls.

We slipped out of our shoes, left worldly posessions except our clothes and cords (sadly in some ways, but kids were at the park) outside the door, and entered together. He told a tale of our relationship, and I told a tale of us as well. We wove oaths and blessings, tears and smiles, and an understanding that what we had both feared would be a huge step was just one foot in front of another on a path we were already on.

He held a length of green as dark as the evergreen boughs that filled the sides of the hill we stood on, green as the leaves that crowned the Summer House, green as the crown of the Green Man. I held up my length of red as rich as the moon flows that pour from my body, red as spilt blood on the battle field, red as the desire of the Goddess. Cords pulled together and wrapped around our joined right hands, pulled through, tucked... and after a long kiss and an understanding, we walked out into the world together.

Hello World!

We left a different way than how we came, passing runners and do walkers, our sexuality high and playing as we walked still bound flesh to flesh. Since we had to drive to get anywhere private, we decided that quick sensual blowjobs would do for the consumation of our ceremony for the moment... hey, we're not pure traditionalist :) At the base of the hill he grabbed one set of cord-ends and I the other, and we slipped out, leaving a 3-pass knot in their place. I twined the rope around his rear-view mirror braided in with the garter belt he had caught at his cousin's wedding- white, red, and green.

Off to ribs! We went to Tony Roma's after he asked me to marry him, so we went there again, because romance equals ribs, pure and simple. Plus it had been a while since either of us had eathen mean, and we were both craving it. Smoky blue Carolinas and Garlic Rosemary Ribs, botomless strawberry lemonade, and an old guy on the piano- perfection.

We came home for an hour to drop off leftovers and do some computer work, then headed off to the movies. The first place we went to had a malfunction, so we spead over to Evergreen Parkway to catch Bourne Supremacy there. Good film, I really enjoyed it... possibly more than I did the first.

Back home we slipped out of our clothing and devoured one another. We popped a cherry together- first time having sex with a spouse. One position to another to another, cocks to fists to tender kisses. I couldn't manage a huge orgasm like I could see he wanted me to have, just a series of little ones due to a slight headache that was startingto become a migrane... and from this we learned a lesson:

If I am not dropping quickly from my sleep-drop hypnosis trigger, stop trying to put me under.

It wasn't pretty. Sigh. I remember crying from being unable to come up or down from the hypnosis, stuck by a headache. Eventually we got me to take drugs and eventually pass out. That was not how I wanted to end that evening... migranes suck.

But now it's morning. The world is alive outside and I am feeling truly blessed. My love, my life, my lover, my owner, my God, my Husband... sleeps in the other room.

As far as the human world cares, he's my fiancee, set to be wedded next year.

As far as the Gods and us are concerned, we're married for a year and a day, or for as long as love lasts.

After a year and a day, bet your bippie that there will be a rockin' Bachelor Party before we get married in public. Plans are already in the works.