May 24th

A lazy day off.


I knew that I had started being a regular customer at Tubs when I realized I was desensitized to the lovely and artificially tanned cleavage of the counter bimbette. Nia and I spent a couple hours there a few weeks ago, Omaha and I enjoyed the spa last week-end, and now today Nia and I started a lazy Thursday afternoon with a couple of hours soaking in the hot bubbling waters.

We touched and felt and enjoyed each other's naked presence, but as much as anything we enjoyed and built on the intimacy of conversation more than slap'n'tickle. For years I've been working on - and often failing to correct - my tendency to talk and talk and dominate a conversation. I've had an interesting life, and enjoy talking about it, but I can easily go over the line of give and take, and talk talk talk. Then I remember the line I heard years ago about "it's better to be interestED than interestING." Nia drew me out, and I shared many things, things about my life, my background, my likes and fears and all kindsa stuff that I haven't shared before. After a long time I realized that I had been dominating the conversational time, and she smiled and kept me going with more of the same. Very soon, of course, I'll find time to create the same safe space to talk, and learn much more about this lovely lady.

Before we knew it our time was up and we showered [most of] the chlorine off and went out wandering the University District. I wandered into a small fish mart I'd never noticed before and will have to return soon to shop. I did pick up a bottle of file' for my spice shelf. Around the corner we entered Costas, the same Greek restaurant that Omaha and I had dined at after our Tubs visit the prior Sunday. I've gotten thoroughly addicted to their saganaki. This is Kephalotyri cheese fried in egg batter, brought to the table on a metal platter, splashed with brandy and then torched. They squeeze lemon juice on the flames and serve with a separate platter of pita bread. Gads, but its heaven. The consensus is that the only part of it that is remotely healthy is the lemon juice, but but but. We each ordered a different combination platter for entrée, and I began with a lentil and onion soup as she started with avgolemono soup. After a leisurely meal - much more on our platters than we could possibly consume - we strolled the Ave for a few moments. She'd never been in Gargoyles, and we both spent too much money over in Cellophane Square on some used CDs and DVDs. Coming out of Cellophane Square we both sorta muttered something along the lines of "…enough farting around, let's fuck!…" and headed on back to the cars.

We arrived back at my place with the intent to have a balanced evening. I gave her the choice of first or second in the sling and - bless her heart - she opted to put me in the sling first. I hit the showers for a cleansing and we went through the various logistics of towels and pillows and lube and candlelight and stuff until it was time for me to settle back in the sling. I took off my conversational hat, my toppish hat, my host hat and all the others, and just concentrated on my breathing and relaxing. She began slowly with external massage, building my little Scotch-Irish dillywhacker into a large and inflamed thing of beauty, and showed magnificently that she remembered my commenting that my scrotum was more sensitive to touch than my dick. As she slowly began lubing and probing my anal sphincter I looked down and saw one of the most beautiful sights ever - her lips touching my belly as my latex-covered dickhead tickled her uvula, and her eyes looking up lovingly through her eyelashes towards me the whole time. Looking back at it now, a Dylan song pops into my head. She already had her harness on and had her own dildo [Darth Mauler, by its colors] in the harness. We had been concerned because the body of it was similar to my favorite, but the head of it was a bulbous blunt instrument that looked like it may be a challenge. That proved to be a false fear, as the gentleness of her prep work and my own breathing and relaxing gave the entire bulbous thing a gentle and wonderful entry. She started fucking me and I have no idea if she was fast, slow, brutal or tender - I was in nirvana for what seemed like hours and hours until I finally had to ask for it to end. I wasn't hurting, I wasn't cramping, I wasn't even OD'd on pleasure - I simply had zero energy remaining to keep my body further involved in anything at all.

Once I had hydrated myself, regained functional control of my legs, and brought my breathing back closer to normal we put Nia in the sling and I pulled a chair up close to the foot of it, lube in hand. She had brought a bag full of butt plugs [Mama Bear, Papa Bear, and Baby Bear] and asked that I only use Baby Bear, so I slipped a condom over that and went to town. With the added sensation that Baby Bear contributed, I gave her just about every variation of oral and digital stimulation until she suffered a couple of her trademarked train wreck orgasms. It sounds minimal to describe like this, but we spent at least as much time hitting her train wreck as we had reaching my nirvana, and it was all a definite Good Thing.

The day as a whole was a wonderful collection of experiences together, and I can foresee us looking for more opportunities to construct such varied and enjoyable days. Yet another example of why I think life is good.

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