June 9th

Thanks to all for their sympathy at my uncomfortable sitting predicament a few days ago.


Linda, sorry this took so long. It is absolutely no reflection on the wonderful time we had.

Last weekend was a get away, a recharging vacation for Linda and I both. She from Sacramento and I from Seattle, both got on I-5 and met in Eugene, Oregon at the home of old friends Conrad Hodson and Margaret Weller. Conrad you'll find here on the editorial board of the Encyclopedia of Unusual Sex Practices, and if you are able to find a copy of Doomed Rabbit you will find a spreadsheet explaining Margaret's mouthgasm inspiring truffles. It was a long drive, much longer for Linda and exhausting for both of us. I arrived first, and she not too long after, and we walked into one of those houses with more books than wall space, with pots full of healthy and tasty food ready for any visitors, and it looked to me like Linda settled into fast friendship with everyone there just like putting on a comfortable pair of broken in slippers. Conrad and Margaret have been partnered for 35 years come July, poly and kinky the entire time, and they've been in this house for 26 of them.

Once stomachs had been fed and road dust shaken off, I gave Linda a token reminder that her cares of the moment, her cares of the world, would all be set aside for the weekend. I tied a lace around her wrist and told her that as long as it was there, she didn't have to worry as I'd do the worrying for her. The idea of a hot bath sounded wonderful, so I took her into the - well, hell, Conrad - 'rustic' is a compliment... - bathroom and drew a hot tub. Prior to the start of the drive she had been given a mission. She was told she had to pick her favorite butt plug and wear it for the drive, and that I would remove it for her. Unfortunately - we chatted car to car on the road by cell - she let me know that she had had a temporary GI problem that made a plug fairly unwise. I went ahead and played out the plan I had anyhow. Where she was to be of service to me, I bathed her instead. I may or may not have done it as she would have - at least after I used the snake bit kit on her nipples and clit I tucked it into her bag as a gift to go, and the four enema cleansing might not have been on her usual list - but clean she got. I thought the role confusion of my suddenly caring for her would be just enough jarring for effect. Before bed that night I took a length of simple clothes line and tied one hand to one wrist, took it behind her back and tied it off to the opposite ankle. Just a reminder.

In the room we had been given, as in their master bedroom as well, C&M have a marvelous system. The room has only shelves around the perimeter on 3 walls, and on the fourth wall is a large 4" foam mattress with cargo lines holding it up. When it's bedtime you simply let the two lines loose from their hooks and drop the mattress down, and put bedding on it. As I've spent most of my adult life living alone, my sleep was as it generally is when I spend a night with another - in and out of sleep, and always conscious of my bed mate. We explored each other's bodies and I have no idea at all when we finally drifted off to sleep, or when we gradually came to, and have no idea at all home much of the time was spent in focusing on simple touch, in exploring, in sharing pleasant sensation. In the morning she got up to prepare breakfast and seemed surprised when I mentioned to her that clothes wouldn't be necessary. It's not like she was doing up a griddle of popping bacon, ya know. She did a fine job and I noted no new burn marks on her lovely skin.

Throughout much of the day we wandered the Saturday Market, looking at trinkets and baubles and more tie-died clothing than I've seen since 1968. Eugene is truly the town where Jerry never died. As well, we hit a series of thrift stores looking for shreddable clothing for Linda for the party Saturday night.

The monthly regional house party happened to be occurring the same evening we had decided to 'meet halfway', so we went on over Saturday evening to a local house which had been totally converted to play space. It's always awkward in foreign space, especially when it's a stranger's house. Linda really looked like a stranger in a strange land until we started playing. I started her with a rope harness over top of her clothing, as rope gives her a sense of comfort. Her hands were bound and her eyes covered with that stick-to-itself bondage tape you can get at kinky stores. Next up, I shredded her clothes with my sharp new Gerber, and then put EKG patches in strategic places - either side of the top of her thighs, on her mons, and on her coccyx. Then, saran wrap head to toe over top and with the help of bystanders, lowered her to an inclined padded bench and pallet-wrapped her to it. Once she had a few minutes to get her equilibrium back, I started making slits in the saran wrap for the electrodes and hooked up the Mean Green Machine. I did a bit of distracting play with a pair of padded forceps, squeezing nipples and just letting it dangle from her tongue for a while. I went through quite a few of my variations with the MGM for some time, including a vaginally inserted electrode probe and a defibrillator paddle over her mons, and much of it got her attention but I could simply tell that this wasn't the overwhelmingly orgasmic experience it has been for so many. Since I had no intention of taking her that far for a so-so experience I got out a vibrator I'd bought at an antique store in Vancouver a year or two ago. It's old enough to have the various vibrating knobs made out of Bakelite. The vibrator appeared to work well enough where the MGM seemed to have missed the target.

Sunday morn we again woke involved with each other and as through much of the weekend it was often quite vanilla, with the exception of my occasionally grabbing hair and strongly encouraging this or that to happen next. It was good fun, happy frolicking sex between two friends. It wasn't the intense coupling of smitten and partnered lovers, and it certainly wasn't the more sterile zipless fuck of strangers... it was just two friends having fun. On it's own terms, that's perfectly fine. She's a good friend, and I'm lucky to be on that list.

Sunday I had to leave prior to Linda, as I had to get back up to Seattle in time to be rested and ready for Monday morning work. Just prior to hitting the road I cut off the lace on her wrist. It was a scrumptious day, and I spent the first hour or two on the road just heading up Highway 99, over a bit from the interstate and passing through small towns and railroad crossings. I loved every minute of it, and when I finally got up onto I-5 it was a real disappointment. I stopped in southern Washington for dinner. I try to avoid anything national and look for the little Ma & Pa cafe's. Walking into this one I got all the weird stares from the RV & polyester crowd [might have been the olive drab kilt] but the waitress was great. I asked her if they had any of the night before's special left and I got a platter covered with a thick and tasty prime rib that they'd otherwise have to waste. Mushroom gravy on the mashed and local vegetables and my stomach was so doggone happily filled that once I got back onto the road I started falling asleep. I have a hands-free headset for the cell phone and nationwide long distance for free so I started calling everyone I know to chat for a few minutes and stay awake. It worked, and I did get home alive but weary, some of Margaret's truffles stocked in my freezer, and pretty much on time. What a marvelous weekend, well spent with a lovely and playful partner, visiting in a home where you felt like family instantly. It was so very recharging and revitalizing.

Linda has written of her subjective experiences, from her view, including a couple of photos I took of her in various predicaments, and you can find it here. She was much better in her recounting than I, but she wrote it fresher to the moment as well. Do go read her account!

Now, Lisa, Hanne, Debra, and all the rest of you East Coast folks, here's a heads up of how and where you're going to want to spend some money. It's late Sunday evening and I just got back from the 5th Avenue Theatre in downtown Seattle where a pre-Broadway run of a new play had it's world premiere run. John Waters' Hairspray is being brought to the stage and it's great! One of my favorite actors, Harvey Fierstein, is in the Divine role. Playing Tracy Turnblad - the role that 'made' Ricki Lake - is Marissa Jaret Winokur. You might not know her name, but surely you remember her in the drive-through window at Mr. Smiley's delivering the line, "You are so busted!" She is great, lives the role marvelously. I went with Jerod, Panther's housemate, and we were laughing and applauding and giggling non-stop. There are some young entertainers who are going to be stepping from this show to even greater things. Corey Reynolds shines in the role of Seaweed, Mary Bond Davis wears the role of Motormouth Maybelle like a glittery sequined choir robe, and young Danelle Eugenia Wilson in the role of Little Inez just sizzles with energy.

It's scheduled for Broadway in August and I'll definitely give it as many snaps up as necessary for y'all to go and enjoy.


Now, I'll do what I can, but things are going to be busy coming up. I've got stuff most every night this week, going to a Mariners vs Cardinals game with Dad Wednesday evening, and I'm leaving Friday for a weekend up in Canada with Katt & Wolfe. Bear with me. Life is just too darn good.

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