Mar. 26th, 2009

kathryntact: (Mmm.  Shoes.)
Sunday was just about as perfect a day as one could hope to find at an SM event.  If I'm being honest, the entire weekend was like butter.  And I love butter.Part of me, the ever so cynical side, wants to chock up a lot of my warm fuzzies towards IMsL to the fact that I left the last event I attended feeling the strong urge to disassociate from the scene.  Well, hell, I had already been disenfranchised, told that I didn't belong in a general way that spoke to me very specifically, and if "these" people had no use for me -- I had none for them.  It really wasn't that bad, such negativity actually has the direct opposite effect on me, ever the hard headed girl am I. 
 
 
It makes me want to speak louder, play harder, fuck dirtier.  Though I already speak loudly.  And I play hard.  And yes, I fuck dirty. 
 
I felt a part of this crowd.  And I have no clue why.  The majority of people there identified as queer, or dyke or trans, and face it -- I can barely own up to a label as simple as "girl" half the time.  And I'm fairly sure that people coming in contact with me for the first time there were convinced of my heterosexuality (which is amusing mainly because Phil and his family all thought I was gay when he first met me).  I'm not even sure it had anything to do with the labels these people happened to live with, maybe it was just their incredible hawtness and that they owned it so well.  Confidence oozed out of every pore on every damned person there.  I smelled it.  It was intoxicating. 
 
It's not important to me to feel part of a crowd.  Yes, it's important to me to feel part of the crowd I've chosen (aka friends, family, lovers, etc) but folks in general?  Eh, not so much.  But when you DO feel part of a crowd, something you so rarely expect, it's one hell of an experience.  So, anyway ... where were we?
 
Yes, Sunday.
 
The day started with some very violent sex that left me smiling from ear to ear.  Yep, I'm just that easy.  And somehow we managed not to wake-up our roommate.  Of course, our roommate was sleeping with Prince Iphone headphones in so that may have had something to do with it.  Just, maybe.  We finally pulled ourselves out of bed, managed to get dressed and [livejournal.com profile] boymeat put his the ever so lovely locking electric dog collar back on my arm before we went out to get coffee.  Perfectly placed Starbucks is such a good thing.  Coffee in hand, we wandered back to the hotel, me occasionally yelping at the shocks, smoked a cigarette (or three) and then got in line for brunch.
 
Brunch was tasty.  Skeeter was an excellent emcee during the event, the keynote speaker was fun (fuck yeah) and there was a bit more shocky shocky.  Blah, blah, and it was done and we went upstairs to get Phil's stuff together for the Make Play Happen afternoon affair.
 
So, Make Play Happen was by far one of the coolest things I've ever seen at an event.  Yes, I've seen it at the local and regional level but sorry, this kicked major ass above all else I've attended before.  Basically, you have a bunch of kick-ass presenters/educators/uber_awesome tops through-out the entire dungeon each of them there to play with you, teach you, let you watch them do their thang.  Boymeat and canes.  Lolita and needles.  Felice and V with punching and kicking.  Lochai and speed bondage.  Someone was doing fisting and footing.  Tomo was doing take-downs and resistance bondage.  Oh so many choices that obviously I do not remember them all.
 
[livejournal.com profile] bootpig  and I had planned to hang out at this two hour affair together.  We hung out with Phil for a bit.  And by hanging out, I mean she was all back leaning over this nifty barrel and I was whack-a-whackin' her stomach and thighs with a cane.  While not a superb uber-top by any means, I admit to having learned a couple of things through-out the years and more than that ... Phil's a really good teacher.  Hee.  So, we're playing around, and he starts to get a crowd and we leave him to them. 
 
We begin to wander about but we're inevitably drawn to Felice and V's section.  Come on.  Do you blame us?  We're hands on people.  And by hands on, I mean rough, pummeling, hands on.  Or boot on.  Q was there, punching around, and we started chatting.  Next thing I know Pig is getting kicked by the most delicious of people.  And boy howdy was she in hog heaven.  Erm, pig heaven.
 
They finish up, and by the time my head is back on the game, [livejournal.com profile] boy_cru seems to have descended my way.  Oh, and look, he brought a friend ... [livejournal.com profile] bearsir .   [livejournal.com profile] bearsir  was the emcee of the competition on both Friday and Saturday nights.  He is also ridiculously drool worthy in my opinion.  It's not just the looks, though the looks are there.  And it's not just the sense of humor which is obviously backed up by intelligence.  It can't be just one thing cause it's the package.  So, yeah.  Rawr.  Hi, there fists of glory.  Oh, did you want to punch my chest?  You who I have been trying to figure out how to get your attention for the past two and a half days? 
 
Yeah, you.
 
Cru punching one side of my chest and Bear the other.  Dude.  I'm so there.  And I was.  I had to position my feet just so, I think someone actually stood behind me so I wouldn't fall back from the sheer energy of their fists.  I held my own.  I held up.  Until I fell.  And then I just leaned upwards and forward knowing that I was closer to the ground and could take some more without needing someone to lean against.  A little more.  A lot more.  A repeat?  Fanciful dreams.
 
My chest is bruised.  That wonderful sort of bruising that barely comes to the surface but every move you make burns gently through your muscles and somehow wets your panties at the same time.  If you wore panties, which you don't.  Unless you're wearing a skirt, in which case panties are the rule cause it's just not lady-like.  Or something.
 
They finish up, and the Make Play Happen event starts to finish as well.  [livejournal.com profile] boymeat and I go to grab a cigarette and then he has a playdate.  It really isn't often that I stick around to watch him play with other people.  Most of the time, I'm just not particularly interested but that wasn't the case this go round.  I went back to the dungeon with him, handed off a bottle of water and moved out of the way.  His date commenced, and I had a good view of it.  But somehow I kind of ended up with a front row seat to three other people playing, not to mention being the water girl and diet Coke holder. 
 
It wasn't just hawt to watch, but it sucked me in.  It was emotional and yet still playful and did I mention it was a wee bit dirty.  Fists, and spit, and shit-talk.  I don't think I could have had a better vantage point.  Oh so close to one scene as to breath it in, and close enough to Phil's to watch it very well.  Cru came over at one point, my eyes were locked on Phil and I just whispered ... "Look at my partner, look how hawt he is.  Look how hawt that scene is."  I stand in awe of the people in my life, and there are times I'm just not quite sure how I managed to have them in MY life.  Funny, isn't it?
 
He was flying.  Oh so high like a kite in the sky after his scene.  We smoked, he checked back in with his play partner and we smoked again.  He walked into a wall, or four, but I held his hand.  He needed a shower.  I wanted a little reconnect time.  Somewhere in all of that, Pig had left and I wasn't quite ready for her to go.  We went back up to the room, and he turned on the shower.  It was for him, but it was for me, too.  And I bathed him.  His hair, his body, all of it.  It was mildly sexual, but more than that, it was about coming down from our day together.  He was good enough to make the shower water warmer than he usually likes so I didn't freeze to death. 
 
He still had to step out when I was ready to wash my hair, I like the water so hot that the steam tumbles out.
 
And then we dressed.  That was Sunday day.  The night was something onto itself.  And I think it will have to be another post as this one is already long enough.
 
 
 
kathryntact: (jebuswhore)
It's not necessary that you watch this youtube video before reading the following story but I would highly recommend it.  (Fair warning:  If you do not watch this video, this post isn't nearly as funny as it could be.)
 
I do not post about my sex life that happens behind doors.  And because I tend to stick to SM events, that means I don't have to post about the actual sex I have much beyond "whip-whip-whack-smack-ohhh-wet".  It's a comfort level for me to not post about my sex life while still being able to share the hawt SM I get into publicly.  And yet now, I am faced with a conundrum and it is all [livejournal.com profile] boymeat 's fault. 

Are you surprised?
 
Sunday night in the dungeon and a lot of very hawt play was going on.  We and a few friends had overtaken a little area and were chatting and watching to our heart's content.  I admit that the day was starting to really catch up to my libido.  I had the strongest urge to fuck.  And I suppose it was highly apparent because he looked over at me, "what are you thinking?"
 
"I'm thinking I'd like to cum."
 
"We're not going upstairs."
 
Well, allright then, we're not going anywhere!  Except he pointed to a sling in the corner of the dungeon.  Um, hi, I don't get naked in public.  And I started to flip out.  It's not that I have never gotten naked in public, I have.  And yes, I've fucked in public before.  Blah, blah, blah.  Whatever, it's just not really what I'm necessarily comfortable doing so I don't.  And here he is, Mr. Smarty Pants, pointing to the fucking sling.
 
"I don't get naked in publick."  "No one will see.  I'll be in front of you."  "No, you don't seem to understand.  I don't do such things in publick.  I couldn't possibly.  Everyone will watch."  "No one is going to look, they are all busy.  Besides, they can't see through me."  "They'll hear me, I'm loud.  I don't do such things in publick."  "You aren't loud.  Besides, what about *insertsomethingsexualhere* that you did in blank's living room?"  "I didn't do that!"  "Yes, you did.  Remember?  So_and_so commented on it!"  " We were in the back bedroom."  "We were not.  We were in the front room."  "You're wrong!  I don't do such things in publick!"
 
Yes.You.Do. 
 
And apparently, yes I did.  I remembered.
 
Except it's never so simple.  Because first he had to get me out of the chair and all the way across the room where I decided to have yet another mild panic attack.  This one when I am now half-naked, ass in a sling, knee socks pulled all the way up, half crying hysterically and the other half laughing.  I was so out of my comfort zone I couldn't stop shaking or trying to figure out how to recross my legs to make sure no one could see that I had no panties on.  I'm cracking jokes and trying to figure out how to get out of this position.  "If I can see people, they can see me!"  "They cannot see you.  They aren't even looking."  "They're all looking, I can feel it!"  "Then close your eyes."  "If I close my eyes, they can still see me.  OMG.  I'M NAKED IN PUBLICK."
 
And I'm shaking, and I'm crying, and I'm laughing.  And he's laughing.  We're both laughing.  But then he gets down to business, and some of his fingers disappear.  That barely breathing thing I was doing before as I freaked out was replaced by that barely breathing thing I do when I'm about to orgasm. 
 
Tears of fear were replaced with tears of pleasure.  I gripped his hair, his neck, anything I could get a hand on, and whatever crowd I had magically imagined in my mind staring at my naked_ness disappeared.  And oh my but it was hawt.
 
Of course, I don't do these sorts of things in publick.  And instead suggested we should one day simply buy a sling of our own.

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kathryntact

May 2009

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