Netzach
>semiotics?
- Joined
- Mar 3, 2003
- Posts
- 21,732
I don't put much of a premium on being "normal" let's put it that way. For the most part, I don't care what the world thinks as long as it leaves me in relative peace. There are few people in the world who I'm dying to please, and even a few I'd do just about anything to please, but believe me they are not John Q Public and his equally as imaginary wife Jane.
I am lucky enough to be in a tight-knit pansexual leather club. When I say pan I mean pan, not het with a couple of bi girls in it. M and I are the token opposite-sex couple, only one person defines as heterosexual, the rest of us are gay/lesbian or intentionally unafilliated, but almost all of us are players, players players.
Sex and intimacy are one thing, we'll beat on anyone we love and trust, Leather *is* the orientation.
I get to wander off into the woods once a year with these people and about 100 of our closest friends. It's a run, yes, classic in the woodsy locale and the wooden cabin-bunker things, but long gone are the motorcycles, and SM is the whole point, not a tangent to the fucking and drinking of other runs, so I've been told by the more experienced among us.
I've come home eaten alive by mosquitoes, completely ready to overhaul a lot of things in my life, do some major spring cleaning.
What'd ya do? What'd ya do?
Not much. A flogging, sensuous, followed by fucking, ironically. Fucking, but using M as a warm human dildo. I had my period, and it's always a good time for me, a time of powerful, potent, sexual asexuality. Summed up with "I don't have to come, and neither do you, bitch!"
G was able to drop in. I teased him mercilessly, slapped his face, treated him like chattel, like goods. He's been working out so much, getting so strong in anticipation of a competition, it just makes me want to move him around like Grade A beef.
Even did some bottoming. Learned a neat bondage technique from my boy, totally inescapable, safe on the joints, easy to do at home and comes apart with a single yank. Very elegant. He developed it with his ex. They would trade off topping one another, he figured out some really elegant solutions. Of course, I dropped. I dropped deep, I always do, and M gets to tease and pleasure me, I trust him with that much. He's wicked, a real bitch.
He must be learning a thing or two from me.
Mostly, though, I pulled things together. Set up dungeons, hauled equipment, firewood, swept cabins. Made certain my guests were happy and unaware of my work, our work in keeping it going. It's like hosting at your home, only bigger.
I walked around. I walked around in this little Leather village, and looked at the people, and prayed that someday this will be my reality. Community in its truest sense. Why not a Leather kibbutz? Why ever not? Care for those who need it, and a pervasive feeling of peace, ease, and being...
OK. Perfectly OK. Perfectly normal.
I am lucky enough to be in a tight-knit pansexual leather club. When I say pan I mean pan, not het with a couple of bi girls in it. M and I are the token opposite-sex couple, only one person defines as heterosexual, the rest of us are gay/lesbian or intentionally unafilliated, but almost all of us are players, players players.
Sex and intimacy are one thing, we'll beat on anyone we love and trust, Leather *is* the orientation.
I get to wander off into the woods once a year with these people and about 100 of our closest friends. It's a run, yes, classic in the woodsy locale and the wooden cabin-bunker things, but long gone are the motorcycles, and SM is the whole point, not a tangent to the fucking and drinking of other runs, so I've been told by the more experienced among us.
I've come home eaten alive by mosquitoes, completely ready to overhaul a lot of things in my life, do some major spring cleaning.
What'd ya do? What'd ya do?
Not much. A flogging, sensuous, followed by fucking, ironically. Fucking, but using M as a warm human dildo. I had my period, and it's always a good time for me, a time of powerful, potent, sexual asexuality. Summed up with "I don't have to come, and neither do you, bitch!"
G was able to drop in. I teased him mercilessly, slapped his face, treated him like chattel, like goods. He's been working out so much, getting so strong in anticipation of a competition, it just makes me want to move him around like Grade A beef.
Even did some bottoming. Learned a neat bondage technique from my boy, totally inescapable, safe on the joints, easy to do at home and comes apart with a single yank. Very elegant. He developed it with his ex. They would trade off topping one another, he figured out some really elegant solutions. Of course, I dropped. I dropped deep, I always do, and M gets to tease and pleasure me, I trust him with that much. He's wicked, a real bitch.
He must be learning a thing or two from me.
Mostly, though, I pulled things together. Set up dungeons, hauled equipment, firewood, swept cabins. Made certain my guests were happy and unaware of my work, our work in keeping it going. It's like hosting at your home, only bigger.
I walked around. I walked around in this little Leather village, and looked at the people, and prayed that someday this will be my reality. Community in its truest sense. Why not a Leather kibbutz? Why ever not? Care for those who need it, and a pervasive feeling of peace, ease, and being...
OK. Perfectly OK. Perfectly normal.
