Seattle Tales- Special ops, special desires

Saturday 28 August- 10am, Train station

I just ended a conversation with a real Delta Green agent. Lines of wires and telephone calls from pole to pole echo through my ones, history bouncing from Los Alamos to Melbourne walking off with rings of gold and a walking cane head into the distance. His face sagged, his cheeks puffed, his gray hair was clean and thin and an elegant white-haired dame hung from his arm as he left the building. My parents past a pass to the world of espionage and a desire for those who walked the shadows of intrigue to tell me their tales. She would understand, she grew up in that world. I do understand, I did grow up in that world… hello Sydney.

The last two days have been whirlwind, but so perfect on many levels except a knot between my legs longing to be untied. I love my Furry One, my Owner, my Fiancee, my beloved and my life partner- but egads, this “not being touched” bullshit is getting to me. I’ll cope :) Really I will. It’s just been so frustrating over the past two days, a few amazing encounters that left me hungry, knotted up, longing.

Out of a dream last night a crush of 7 years walked in and kissed me. Somehow more fragile, somehow stronger… when I had to leave Starhawk my brain was reeling- excited to be going on to other plans that too had erupted without much notice, and yet… wondering in that might what-if game we call life. “He takes a long time to get around to things sometimes” the Viper said, his tongue like honey, but oh, the Hawk is so worth it. So beautiful, so… ah, the dreams all come rushing back and suddenly I’m a blushing child of a woman again in Reno. The camels have been taken apart. The stars have whirled past. Mud men have been created- and I slip into a hockey jersey and ponder what else I might want to cheer. 3 hockey jerseys in my closet: one of Mixael, one of my efforts to bring a venue I love to life, one of Cheese… and the cheese surrounded me from all sides last night.

The Mercury (The Merc) was a much needed break after the last few days. 3 sessions that were all successful, an amazing photo shoot with Gwenderela (oh the bubbles, oh the grapes), the Nazi Pirate Zombie Monkey Ninjas, meetings with Mi Madre, mi Padre, a quick visit in with Mistress Madeline, a get together to pick up rope and talk shop with TwistedMonk, More great pictures, hot tub time with Peter Throckmorton and Natalie… it was great to see so many folks there- Goon, Viper, Gwenderela, Wolfe, Bakrath, the traveling man, Graves… lots of others. Music was too loud, the space was smoky- but the drinks were great, the eye candy was lovely, and I was amply distracted by my cohorts.

My kinky cohorts. My vanilla cohorts. My buds- for only a real friend would stand by the side of a bed and act as a spotter for 3 of his other friends making out on a bed, pushing them back on if one falls off. Ha- talk about crushes!

*****

The bathtub smelled of rosemary, a left-over from a human stew who was still crying out to be released, his hands bound as he begged for me to stop, my pepper grinder over his head and a knife in hand chopping potatoes. Let me chop you down, chop me down, bring me back to size as her flesh, covered in rosemary and bubbles, erupted from the water with a sigh. Hand on hand on hand between her legs and my tongue trailing down the olfactory map of her body- the sweat trails, the soft sighs and yelps from a bite along her mountains and ravines, traversing her streams and mighty rivers with closed eyes and an open heart. He held down her hands, their mouths mingling in a desperation, in an exploration, in a truth set down by the maps of where we had been and where we longed to go.

Right now it’s your tomorrow. Come on, it’s everything… it’s a magic moment- do it right here and now.

We dive in. Pushed into the dark corner we bend boundaries, walk the line between what is acceptable and what is not in your world as thighs find home between ravenous fingertips and teeth meet your neck on either side- his hair brushing against your tender touch and my baldness nestling a line between butch and femme, body and body, lips to lips to lips and a Malibu and pineapple double downed by each of us. Red and black Chinese silk cascades across your flesh, perfect dimples exposed from beneath the bubbles. He slips you out of your bra as I unlace your tall boots and linger for a moment at your feet before hands, mouths, arms entwine and I finally feel his tongue on mine and am lost as he finds his way home between my legs, my ass melting beneath his eager tongue as you lap up every drop of my desire.

I pull on chains. You fall into his arms. She pulls against hemp ropes and fall back into bliss. He smiles from across the bubbles as we bridge tears and friendship. You look at me and sigh. You look at me and I am gone. Growls escape chests and my heart wishes it could explode as he fucks my face and I drown into tomorrow, drown beneath the bubbles, drown beneath your down and gasp for air gasp for more, gasp beneath the hand on my throat and long for more.

The orchestra of orgasms plays on and somewhere a Hawk soars off into the distance. Off into the distance, and I count the days until the 20th, count the hours until he lets me finally drown and erupt from the seas of foam myself.

*****

The theme of bubbles, of water, kept coming up. Hand on hand on hand in shower, in bath tub, smiles across sprays of fountains, bottles of water after drinks at the Merc, yet another Bubble Tea, water my body, water my blood. I shake away smoke, shake away fears, dive in and pound my hand against shackles I wish I had been locked into, wish and dream, play the what-if game, play and play and play and live and love.

*****

11:30am, on train

Her nipples like toffee chocolate are still lingering on my tongue.

Since reading Dan Brown’s Angels and Demons I have been being very aware of my elemental desires- a sparkling perfect diamond made of four interlocking elements plats across my mind along with Earth, Air, Fire, Water- a drown priest in the pool of my possibilities. A single iron circle. A single eye. Close my eyes and tears rush back, truths rush back, and in the dark hallways and well lit office buildings we plan.

I cross my wrists and they glow in an electric dream. EAFW top and bottoms of wrists- and yet I don’t think it’s meant for me- certainly not yet.

3pm

How grateful am I that I fell asleep. Blessed be. Off to go conquer the world and prepare to hang.

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Continued reflections from OLF and beyond

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Uzamaki- thoughts on spirals from the road