Tuesday, November 09, 2004

It’s a Small World After-All

So one of my blog readers has taken to sleeping with Mr. B. Aint’it weird? So that was how she knew it was me Sunday night (she had just left his place to return him his key, and I had been making my way up). Can you believe that? Two completely unrelated people; My God. I feel like a vortex for idiosyncratic twists of fate. I think he asked her if she’d like to join in the next time round. He texted me to tell me that today, and that he thought it was sweet of me to have baked him a cake made completely from almonds.

Let’s see. Join in… Sunday night… After we took up the party from the pool. I popped in some R and B music, and there were three naked girls dancing and flashing ourselves in all our glorious nudity by the full length window. Candy couldn’t stop yelling at every bum-boat that came by, and we all probably made a hell lot of noise.

I stood by the edge of the coffee table, couched down, placing my hands against the edge, with my bum lifted up and my back arched.

‘Spank Me’.

And when Mr. B spanks me, he really, really spanks. Come to think of it, he was also the first guy to ever do so (although the first time round, it was more of a pat *laughs*) For some reason, I had been toying with the idea of getting whipped before we had commenced with this particular (group sex) experiment, and I asked him to take out a belt, since both Dee and I were into that kinda thing. So there I was with my ass obscenely raised, and before I knew it, there was a sharp, stinging lash planted onto it's left cheek. Of course it hurt, and I had to cry out. Pain is allright if you get to scream, I think. Crying out makes it much more toleratable. I had five of those, before begging 'enough', although I was absolutely sure I could have taken more (my dad had been a relentless disciplinarian) You see, I wasn’t really in an SM mood that night, but had wanted it simply because I couldn’t stop thinking about getting whipped for so much of the afternoon preceding the party.

Right after I said enough, Dee came up to me and grabbed me into a the most complete embrace and smothered me with kisses. That, I really love. It’s my favourite thing about pain, that someone comes in to give you some respite thereafter.

All this while, it had never even occurred to me that I should fuck Dee’s boy. Firstly, there were two guys, and of course it was just more natural that I should do Mr. B. I’m not a glutton, one is sufficient. And secondly, I thought I would be a little pissed if I were Dee. Not so much (if at all) because of the jealousy, but rather because… well… let’s just say if he came, it would take awhile for it to get up again, and I doubt it would be as hard. Very oddly, he called my up this morning, asking for a favour.

‘You have to tell me what it is first of course, I can’t make promises based on no information!’

‘I’d like to fuck you this Friday. Alone.’

‘Alone? Does Dee know?’

‘Yeah, we decided we’d do one other person.’

At this point, I’m not too sure. Is it allright to do one other person, or to do many other persons, as long as they told each other all of the time. But to me, of course it is of no importance. If you want to do other people, just do them already. Big deal. Don’t get me wrong though, I would never sleep with a girlfriend’s boy if I knew she would be against it. I didn’t promise him anything though, if I felt like it, I would.

I actually asked Mike how many people he’d slept with last night, after some of the most fabulous sex ever; again. He’s so completely uninhibited, and so completely great in bed I figured it must be some a substantial number. Most people never get over a whole lot of inhibitions until they had done a few people anyway. But apparently, it was less then 8. I was officially shocked. But I can see how that’s possible. Like for example, they could be really cool girls who talked dirty in bed all the time. As opposed to many boring women who just let you fuck them since it’s part of what dating would eventually entail. *shrugs*

Digressions aside, we had wanted to take the party down to Cayote, but it was closed, as it is every Sunday. Pity. I thought it would have been fun to wear a huge, baggy, white tee and get drenched such that it was like a strip show, only, we weren’t violating any laws.

All I can say at the end of the day is this; I really did think the whole experiment was a lot of fun. Sure it was wild, but it felt so completely right at the same time. The thing with the prostitute had actually felt sinful and pointless, this didn’t. I knew the people, and I like all of them. They rock. It wasn’t something I think about and go, ‘oh, how completely degenerate and deranged’. It’s nothing like you read about in stories, or watch in porn videos - Dee had been talking on her cellphone as she got fucked. ('The Boy is fucking me and there are three people watchin' ') That was funny.

It was how it would be if we never ate the fruit of the tree of Good and Evil, and carried on procreating in the Garden of Eden. Where we’d would of course, all be naked, all of the time. That, and not a Sodom and Gomorrah accidental experiment just before the burning of the cities. There is sex that can make you feel good about yourself, and about people, and sex that’ll make you hate the world and drive you to depression. This was definitely the former.

xoxox

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