“I promise to go along with whatever your blog audience wants,” she wrote.
Our ongoing flirtation is continuing, and last night, I realized I would actually be in Seattle again this weekend, but only for a three-hour layover on my way to Alaska, where I was born & raised, where my parents still live, for the holidays.
I mentioned this, while discussing fisting and lube and condom sizes and butches who were not delivering, while playing with my newest addition to my cock collection, to the ridiculously hot DateDyke while we chatted last night.
Three hours is just about the perfect amount of time.
She wrote: “I would get a hotel room on international boulevard, pick you up, take you to the hotel, drop you off in time to go thru security, say hi to your sister, and you’d get on the plane. Maybe I’d feed you. Maybe not. You would be required to: 1) show up packing, 2) tell me how hot i am in my skirt, 3) beg me to be availableon the 29th [the return layover], 4) bite my shoulder while you’re unhooking my garter belt.”
“Those are not very high demands,” I wrote. “Anything else?”
“What are yours?”
“I was going to say garter belt, and packing of course, but you covered those. I don’t know what else. I’m awfully curious about you. I feel like many things could be on the table that I wouldn’t usually seek out.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you seem to be a bit of a top. We’ve discussed that before.”
“I’m a solid top. That is true. I get off on that. And I’m a sick bottom … it all depends. What if I sent you back in the security line, stretched out, sore, chapped lips and unsatisfied?”
“Ohh, fucking hell. That’d be … frustrating. To say the least.”
“Well, if I only had 3 hours with you I’d take advantage of what I wanted.”
“Though if I behaved extra well, it may increase my chances of seeing you on the return trip, yes?”
“I have high standards, but I suspect you are eager to please … I’d love to tie you up, get on top of you, use you for what I wanted, and stick you back in line.”
“I’d be eager to take you down. It’d be hard to resist taking control. That’d be a tough inner battle.”
“We could flip a coin? We could: 1. arm wrestle, 2. trade layovers, 3. ask for a blog vote …”
The idea of bottoming to her is increasingly appealing, I must say. There is something about her that makes me want to get on my knees … and I have never actually sucked femme cock.
“Maybe it’s time for you to open some new doors,” she concluded.
For my vote, I think I want her to top me on the trip up, and then I’ll get to have my revenge on the way back.
“I’m a bit of an exhibitionist,” she wrote. “Okay, I’m a big one. Ask your readers. I promise to go along with whatever they want.”