February 15th

Sometimes the research field work I have to do for this journal is so selfless I even impress myself.

Tonight Panther and I had a pleasant evening together, with the beginnings of a snow blanketing coming down steadily. Dinner started at Snappy Dragon, one of my favorite restaurants in town. When I lived about ten blocks from Snappy I probably averaged 2-3 meals - eat in, carry out, or delivery - a week there. Dinner was pleasant, both company and food, and it is so nice to have an evening without the pressure of a schedule, movie time to make, second event to get on to, or anything resembling pressure from my date. When we can, Panther and I like to create for ourselves a knowingly stress-free evening.

On from Snappy we headed down to 50th Street to the slightly unreal Tubs of Seattle. Parking across the street the snow was obviously coming down heavier and heavier. Lucky me, I'd worn a pair of moccasin s without sox. A hot tub emporium was a hot destination in tonight's weather so we had to wait in the lobby about 20 minutes for a room to open up. This gave me plenty of time to reflect on the unreal and unchanging state of this emporium. First of all, the staff are all young, attractive, vacuous and - by appearance only - smartly dressed ectomorphic bulimics. Behind the counter they sell fancy Tubs-logo sweat clothes, and in general appear to be cookie-cuttered out of a yuppie-in-training fantasy. I asked them once why they don't sell safer sex supplies, for the people who forgot to bring their own condoms or dental dams and they looked at me like I was from Mars. Everyone in the city knows that people go to the place with hot tubs in private rooms to have sex. These people are in oblivion, and apparently think that they rent out high-humidity rooms by the hour for playing backgammon.

Enough of my grumbling. Panther and I played grab ass in the lobby for a bit until they apparently decided we were scaring the natives, so we got into our room. Each room has a shower, AM/FM cassette player, sauna room, mattress - do remember why we're here, folks - and a hot tub with jets. Also, this evening far and above any of my prior visits, hot tub with more disinfecting chemicals than I can stand. We soaked for a little bit but before too long we were up on the mattress digging through the safer sex supply bag I'd brought with me. I dug out a dental dam to go down on her but she made some comment about how great they were for breath control, so we had to go there first. They really are! You can hold either end of the thing and pull it tight over her entire mouth and nose, stretch it nearly down to the mattress on either side of her head, and still leave her eyes open to bug out and pulse in terror as she starts losing control. It was really neat. Just a couple times of putting that on and off and damn but she's warmed up! We know each other so well that she was spasming around my fingers and cumming almost as soon as I'd gloved up and touched her. It was non-stop cumming and ejaculating and cumming and ejaculating for about a half hour... including one marvelous fountain effect. I was kneeling at her knees looking straight down at her cunt while I was fingering it and suddenly she ejaculated a stream of cum straight up in the air about 8", straight at my eyes. My hair was hanging down from either side of my face and her squirt shot straight up, half-way to my face and right in between the two cascades of hair. Just wish I had had a snapshot of it.

Right about the time we were switching over, me on my back and she with the glove and lube, the intercom rang to let us know we had ten minutes of our time left and - as usual - I begged an additional 30 minutes. Panther did good and quick work of me, pounding on Mr Prostate and throwing me over the top into NonVerbalLand. Googoodahdah, tongue thrusting out trying to make coherent phonemes and failing, arms flopping about as if I'd just had a major league seizure. You know, the good stuff.

Walking out of the steaming hot tub place into the heavier and heavier snow to our individual cars and homes, I couldn't help but muse on good friends and decadent pleasures, and how they truly add up to making life as good as possible.

Current Entry - Previous - Next - Write the slut