Fleshpiles, exercise equipment, trips to the dump, and eccentric diurnal rhythms, the mail nazi, Walla Wallas, and old & new friends - the erratic assortment of life continues to be fairly interesting around here.
Once again, my schedule continues weird. I used to do the scheduling at work and had a stable schedule. One of the other folks got herself semi-promoted and took it upon herself to prove to me that she has Ultimate Power, which means I now work an irregular schedule and about half weekends. Understanding that I work 12 hour shifts in a highly stressfilled environment [i.e., three days a week is enough!], so far in July I've worked the 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 11th, 12th, 13th, and will work the 19th, 20th, 21st, 26th, 28th, and the 30th. August is even more irregular. If I recall correctly, the quote from Homer [the 8 BC Homer, not the one 2001 AD] that helped me through my combat tour was "Bear patiently, my heart, for you have suffered heavier things."
So Saturday morn Nia and I conspired to use each other. She and her hubby filled her soccer mom SUV with a full load of trash and recycle and she scooted by to pick me up and I helped her to unload at the Fremont dump. Lemme tell you, the dump is a place worthy of an entire narrative itself, but that's gonna have to wait.
After sharing the dump experience we headed on down to Capital Hill to the apartment of my old friend Madelyn Arnold. For several years, some time ago, we shared a partner, although for the more than a decade now she and I that she and I have known each other we've only been platonic friends [Madelyn is a lifelong lesbian]. Madelyn is one of the most fascinating people I have ever known. Her early training and education was in biology, and she has both worked with Masters and Johnson in the early days and also has taught the subject to med students. A published author, she won a Lambda award for her first novel, Bird-Eyes, has a more recent novel in print as well as a respected collection of short stories. She has been a staff member for the Seattle Gay News for longer than I've known her and has a weekly by-lined column there now. She has also had AIDS for longer than I've known her, having been exposed on the job when working as a hospital lab employee in the mid 80s. When we first met - on the old Seattle 28 Barbary Lane gay/bi/lesbian BBS - she had no idea how long she would live, and was quite ill. Over years she was in and out of crisis, often medicated to the point of appearing well into dementia, and dependent upon the help and kindness of others. I was party to not a few trips to the emergency room. Showing an inner strength found rarely she has won an L&I case with the state, established her own home, gotten herself off of the meds which had been clouding her sensorium and onto the meds which have helped her become stronger, living independently. She published her second novel and has a sequel to that one in the works on her hard drive. You may have noticed, by the way, that I love and admire this woman very much. On the occasions she has sent postitive literary criticism concerning some of my journal entries, I've been as flattered as could be. She let me know a while back that she had an exercise bike that she wasn't using and that I could have, given that I could pick it up. This was the part that Nia helped with, and I was tickled to introduce them and the three of us chat for a bit along the way. Said exercise bike is now in front of my entertainment center and I have to figure out how/when/etc [I know the why, dammit...].
After Nia dropped me off I chatted with the Nice Young Yuppie Couple upstairs for a bit about the news that has been surging through the neighborhood. The Mail Nazi is retiring! Before I ever moved in I was told about the evil mailman for our area. If your car is parked an inch too close to the mailbox he will get out of his truck, put a note on your windshield chewing you out and explaining that he is unable to deliver the mail for that reason. The neighbor upstairs saw him once zip past without stopping when there were no cars in the way and she complained to the Postmaster. The next day she found a note from the Mail Nazi telling her that she had to trim her brushes and trees back because they were interferring with the mail delivery. When my son moved out the Mail Nazi not only rerouted my son's mail to his new address, he rerouted all of mine as well, and blamed it on me! There will be people doing a happy dance all over this part of Seattle when he finally leaves.
I met a lovely young lady for dinner Saturday evening at Changs. We have many friends in common and she wanted to discuss some play that I might be able to help with in ways that other partners haven't. She's a friend of Nia's, and Nia has helped all along to facilitate this little chunk of kismet. It looks like it's going to be fun for both of us - and of course Nia will hear about it from both sides! I'll mention more and create some sort of nym for her after finding out her wishes on the journal end of things.
After dinner my dinner date went off to a party and I headed over meeting Kevin, Boop, Nia, Annika, Jane & Jim, and others at the Wet Spot. There was schmoozing going on in every direction, but fairly shortly the first scene of the evening got started. It was powerful enough that there was really nothing else going on in the entire club as long as it went on. It was Annika's birthday, and she was gifted with Panther for the evening. Wow. Like, hotwow! I found Nia sitting on a barstool over at one end of the dungeon watching Panther stretched on her back on a futon mattress, with one man standing at her head holding two leashes clipped on her nipple rings and two other men standing at either side, each holding a leash clipped to either a labia ring or her clit ring. Very functional jewelry, obviously. Annika was definitely In Charge, and was running Panther through her paces. At one time or another [I've forgotten the sequences] Annika fisted her, fucked her with a strap-on, facefucked her, and more, all the time wading in the saturation from Panther's ejaculations. Nia was getting so hot and bothered that I casually leaned over and rested my fist on the seat of her barstool, and she leaned forward and rode my hand like a saddlehorn from Pan, and had her own shuddering orgasm, never having taken her eyes off of Annika and Panther. Wheeee!
The four of us who had generally decided to 'do something' - Kevin, myself, Nia, and Boop - gathered and we even diddly-farted around trying to draw diagrams of what to do on napkins. Finally we just got down to it. A mattress on a box springs on the floor in a corner got shoved up so it looked like a recliner, and we all stripped down to our skivvies and I sat back on the mattress. Nia lay down resting her head on my belly, her boobs in between my thighs, and Boop sorta got down in a side-spoons, up against Nia and I both. Kev got out his rope and started tying us into a fleshpile. The girls' right feet got tied to each other, and their left the same. A few loops strategically over and under and he secured the three of us into a unit. I, of course, had to snuggle with both girls, maintain as much flesh to flesh contact as possible, take turns holding hands with each, and pretty much generally suffer up under the effort. Kevin opened up his cane case and began to cane the two girls alternatively, consecutively, simultaneously, and towards orgasm. I liked the part where Boop was humping herself on my foot and Kevin caned the bottom of my foot right back up at her. We slipped a condom over my happy little dillywhacker and Nia started giving me head while she was being caned - something to try if you haven't. Everyone but Kevin was screaming in delight at one point or another - Kevin was sweating like an August picnic as he ran around and around the mattresses doing his toppish magic. Once he started undoing us I realized that I was going home with rope marks for the first time in years, and thoroughly enjoyed it.
Sunday was a sleep-in and laze around day, until 5pm when I met Sol over at the Sunlight Cafe for an early dinner. He hopes to do a presentation on Takedown Play at Black Rose and wanted me to review his proposal. He also wanted to introduce me to a very lovely lady he is seeing, and speaking for me, myself, and I, it was a happy introduction. The three of us had a nice long chat. I looked his outline over and gave a few suggestions, and of course did a bit of flirting as well. Once I got home I tried to do a bit of website review and felt myself getting tired about 2am or so, so took a goodly dose of my Trazadone and hit the sack.
This is where it gets weird. Monday I was due to stop by Slave to the Needle to pick up some jewelry from Troy. I also knew that the Mariners were playing around 7pm, and that I wanted to see Troy and get home before then. I woke up around 5 or so, feeling quite rested, and quickly jumped into some clothes and the car to meet that schedule. It was grey and rainey out, but it was a mile or so down the road that I finally heard that the radio was saying "blahblahblah this morning". I swung by Blockbuster and dropped a return off and realized that they weren't open yet... and it slowly came to me that I'd somehow woken up after 2-3 hours sleep, not after 14 hours. Grey and rainey is grey and rainey, and at times like that both 5:30's a day look the same. I came back home and looked carefully at the bottom corner of the computer screen and it did indeed say "a.m.", so I sent off a sheepish apology for the couple of "so, how did your day go today?" notes I'd sent off when I woke up, and I headed back to bed, to sleep curled up with Littleone until noon or so. At that time - duh! - I went down to see Troy and do a bit of shopping and stuff. The rest of the afternoon I was starting to prep for what passes for 'canning preserves' for me. I had bought several large bags of Walla Walla onions and I set up an assembly line of peeling and shredding and bagging. I did this on a small scale last year and am still pulling the July '00 onions out of the freezer to throw into stews and casseroles and soups and stuff.
Well, Nia did interrupt my onion slicing this afternoon to come on by and snuggle and it was most excellent, but here we are now, late Monday evening, the Mariners trying to win another one, I'm working my way through a honey/garlic broiled buffalo t-bone and I'm still shredding onions til my tear ducts back up and then shredding some more.
The mundane, the wonderful, all part and parcel of another long weekend in the good good life of a slut.