Don't like the weather?
Well then just stick around, it'll change!
One of the significant joys of living in the Midwest is the weather extremes we see. Sitting the the middle of a vast continent, with no significant bodies of water nearby to moderate temps and weather effects, we get to see Mother Nature as an extremely variable and rather capricious Goddess . . .
Today's adventure with weather was an ice storm. We'd been gone for the weekend, off visiting the couple we are mentoring. They live about an hour and a half from us, so it's not a terribly long drive, but it's not close enough for casual visits, especially when time seems to simply evaporate when we are together.
What seems like 45 minutes of play often turns out to have taken two or three hours. I guess the old adage about time flying when having fun has more than a little measure of truth. Lots of incredible fun was had by all, including Serafina's first efforts at rope bondage with another woman (hot!)!
The local forecast called for freezing rain this morning, and for once the weather man delivered on his promise, waking up this morning we were greeted by a thick coat of ice. Just after breakfast, when I stepped out to check on the conditions, I took a slide, then a fall.
Fortunately, the hotel's hot tub helped to mitigate some of the falls effects, but the somewhat tense ride home on partially icy roads encouraged my body to stiffen up pretty good . . .
I was planning on doing a bullet point list of highlights from the weekend (there were many) but I find myself feeling a little addled in the brain, as the pain pills I took to counter the effects of my fall have already kicked in as I sat to write this post. So I'll just leave you, my dear reader with the one that had me smiling, just before, and even after, I fell flat on my ass . . .
First, I'll ask you to picture Serafina and I sitting with the other couple this morning, eating our complimentary breakfasts together in a crowded upscale hotel lounge.
As we were quietly enjoying our meals together,I looked across the table and saw what looked like a 'shadow' on "d's" wrist ( "d" is the the lady submissive who's the fairer half of the couple I'm mentoring.) Fearing that the 'shadow' was actually a bruise from the many hours of rope bondage we'd inflicted on "d" over the course of Friday and Saturday nights, I asked if the skin discoloration I was seeing was actually bruise.
To put the question into context, I should add that we've all grown very comfortable together, and quite obviously as I'm mentoring and playing with them, I speak in pretty graphic terms with my friend B (a convenient name for "d's" husband so they have the initials B&D or B/d.) And, because we had the entire pool area to ourselves while enjoying the hot-tub together Saturday night, we'd never had to be discrete in our conversation for the better part of our three day weekend of play.
Forgetting for a moment where we were, "B" rather innocently asked, "So, you are thinking the bruise might be a rope mark from the bondage?" As it always seems to happen at moments like that, what had been a loud room all morning suddenly seemed to quiet just as "B" asked his question.
Oh my dear reader, four faces were red, at least for a moment, until we all burst out laughing, giggling together like the outrageous confidants we've become. I didn't look around the room to gauge reactions, but it did seem as though the room quickly got even louder than before, perhaps everyone switched to talking about us!
In the end, when I think about it, I'd rather be known as the guy who left the rope marks than as the guy who fell flat on his ass in the parking lot. Oh, and in case anyone was curious, the mark was an old scar, so despite my new found reputation, I'm not really the guy who left rope marks at all, at least not long lasting ones . . .
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| rope marks on "d's" wrists |
