Puppy Love

It’s been a while since I fell in love, thinking about it, it’s been twenty odd years. So I may have things a little confused. In fact I may not be falling in love, but I sure as hell am in lust.

There are the phone calls, two or three a day, the longest being 2 hours and 3 minutes of talking about everything from the best technique to flick someone with a tea towel to fisting. Then the there’s the text messages, silly things, often containing inside jokes.
We spend ages on instant messenger while we each watch telly in our own parts of the world, still talking crap and applauding each others terrible spelling. We’ve exchanged silly postcards by mail.

I get a warm fuzzy feeling in my tummy when we speak and an ache when he doesn’t call, a stupid smile spreads across my face when he does.

And finally the memories of our brief times together that make me want to feel him inside me again.

As I said…it must be lust

Mr. Wrong

While I was overseas I met with a Queensland based Brit. A three hour coffee date at a motorway services was a laugh. Despite having totally different backgrounds we had a bit in common.

I drove away from that meeting with no hopes of ever seeing him again but it’s been just the opposite. He’s become my almost constant telephone companion, he’s been to stay and we’ve attended a rope bondage workshop together. We both came to the conclusion rope look really pretty, but is a pain. Cuffs are much quicker.

We went to a club and ended up making out like a pair of teenagers in a dark corner. We were both dressed in rubber and it was the perfect night for it. We squeaked together on the back seat of the cab and laugh about the next person jumping and sliding right through because of all the silicone on the plastic seats.

We went to the Blue Mountains and took random pictures of things and talked endlessly about allsorts of random crap. We laughed at daft things. We ate chicken and chips out of paper while looking at the Three Sisters and he discovered the wonders of chicken salt. Then we went for a walk and discussed coming back at night wearing latex for a photo shoot.

He looks amazing in latex stockings and suspender belt and my ballet shoes.

He remembered my birthday and sent me postcards from various travel spots.

We came to the conclusion that we are both wrong. And in this case, two wrongs, really do make a right.