Rock Star

Sometimes its awful.

And sometimes, I'm a rock star.
Tonite, my feet were fetishized. And there was euphoria in being the object of foot worship.

He was quiet and Indian. His desire was to serve and kiss my feet. My beautiful newly manicured toes were first massaged, then tenatively licked, then sucked on, and eventually shoved in this mans mouth for the duration of about an hour or two. And the further I pushed, the more I stuffed in, the more excited he was. I was a gift of kinky indulgence for him, created excitement in his life, something to grab onto, hold in his memory.

And the act of having my feet devoured was something that made me very wet, very turned on. It was something between what I imagine it must be like to have your dick in someones mouth, and the power of having someone orally attached to your body. I was slightly alarmed a few times, it felt like I might have an orgasm from it. Quite an interesting concept when you are quite attached to the site of orgasm being between your legs, not at the ends of them.

But the episode was so curious, and so different, that it almost erased my memory of earlier today. Unlike most white men, I did not see encounter or have to deal with his dick. The fact of this really pleased me. Layed out on my bed with my feet in his mouth, all the lights off and only a big candle to light the room, I made him, step by step slowly get me off. All he wanted was for me to be happy and to serve me. He most of all seemed to like sticking his face straight underneath my feet, mashing his nose. A few moments even I was slightly suprised at this version of this fetish.

So interesting. The rollar coaster of existance, and what side of the idea of correct one stands on. On the outside of it all is a world of deviancy that only expands the concept of power and appropriation we all crave to break through. Maybe thats what all of this is all about. A trancendence of spirit into a new plane of existance, through the rite of passage I have immersed myself in.

All this will soon be a Distant Memory

All of this will soon be a distant memory.

Staring into the breeze as I blankly put potato chips in my mouth, I wonder what is going on inside of me. I can see discord, complacency, and true horror and sorrow at who I am being these days.

I am lost. My head swimming, I cannot see any longer. I can only see the gloom that is my heart. It is swallowed in, crumpled like paper in my wastebasket. I see my body, as delicate and good as it ever was, soiled by the hands of men that never deserved a second glance from me. I see my mind torn apart by the battle of morality and the dirty terrible deeds I have indulged in. I see the blood red of my fingertips, and wonder whose hands they are, wonder where they came from.

I am dead. I know my heart is beating, but I don't feel it anymore. I know my lungs still work, but I don't care anymore. I feel the last stretches of life still trying to feel, still struggling to survive, but I have lost all the will I once had. I am dead and I do not know how to come back to life, I do not know how to regain my self again. How to understand love again.

I am crying. I don't know where these tears are coming from, and what to do to make them stop. With every beat my heart squeezes them out of my eyes, and my eyes strain to hold them back. The pain is only a breath of a reminder that I must be sad. The world still moving around me, I stare blankly ahead, feeling the pain of my eyes.

But I know that soon... all of this will only be a distant memory. One day the time will come when I look back, reach deep and still can hardly remember the day I took lunch to meet a guy in a parking garage to tug on his tiny dick, for 200 bucks. And the disgusting feeling afterwards of not knowing where he just walked off to. Left in a stuffy sketchy parking garage with the silent watching cars. With no end to justify the means.

The purity of the world looks sadly at me. It knows that the goodness that it is made of is the same thing that I was born from, it knows that I could stand with it, and that I belong there... but I don't. I have grown into a dank calculating creature. I have grown into a vessal that has no faith in my future. With no faith in love, or most of all anyone's ability to love who I have become. Dark. Depraved. Desperate. Desolute.

I want to scream. Scream into a long tunnel. Release.
I want to be rescued from myself. I want to be wisked away, thrown in front of a beautiful man riding a horse and galloped away. I want to be saved. I want to fall into someones arms and die. I want to sacrifice my soul, tear this pain out of my chest, and let go. Forget the dirtiness that I feel like I have become. Fall asleep and wake up in a field far away from the rest of the world. Drown out all the voices praying on my mind.

But soon, I think, as I put another greasy salt ladden potato chip in my mouth. Soon, this will all be a distant memory.

All Girl Naked Pool Party

The all naked all girl pool party was coming on sunday and I had promised myself I would go.

All summer I had been trying to make C.H.'s nudist events. A woman I knew from my dc bi girls club, she had a beautuful house up in Silver Spring that hosted infamous parties. Complete with a pool, she left it open in the summertime to people who were interested in sunbathing nude. Always something that interested me, I somehow still never made it out there. It was a combination of the fact that I didn't have a car, and did not want to make the trek alone. But I had some trouble convincing my friends to come with me on these nudist exploits.

So suffice to say, I did not go to any of the parties, weekends, anything all summer.
And this was the last chance to make it happen.

Promise made, I proceded to spend the day debating it. Oh I have so much work to do, oh, what if I don't have fun, goodness its getting late. But still I knew I had to go, otherwise it would be a whole nother year before I would have the opportunity, and so I called the house, and mentioned that I wanted to come, was there a bus that went up that way? One of the girls heard I was on the phone and volunteered to come pick me up from the metro. OK ride in place, I let her know that I would get myself together and call her when I headed out.

But I still procrastinated. Lulled about the house. Whined. Started to gather my things, then got side tracked. Reconsidered my decision. Reconsidered my reconsideration. Thought about all the work I should be doing but knew I probably wouldn't. Before I knew it, about 2 hours flew by, and the 12-6 party would be ending in an hour. If I was going, I would need to get moving NOW.

Ok goddamn it. I am going.

I called again. The ride still available, and I say to her that seriously, yes, seriously I will be leaving now. I still manage to run around for another ten minutes before leaving my house.

She greets me on the other side of the metro ride in her osmobile convertable, in nothing but a big piece of fabric. A Big bright rainbow one. Its tied like a sari, above rher breasts. She jokes with me, saying that she knew it would be her luck that I would call as soon as she got naked. I laugh nervously, and we are on our way.