Long, strange trip, part 3
My friends,
As promised, I am posting the third and final installment on my Most Excellent Adventure through the magical South. I apologize for the tardiness of this report, but the moment I got back I had to jump headfirst into the Christmas holiday, and what with family constantly underfoot, I found it impossible to carve out any Me Time until now. I am happy to relay that everyone is back where they belong, and I can finally find the privacy needed to finish my tale. Not that any of you were holding your breath, LOL!
As you may recall, I spent two glorious nights, and mornings, with a fantastic musician baby in New Orleans, in her romantic ruin of an apartment on the wrong side of St Charles street. It could not have been better, in all honesty, and I am still conflicted about how to proceed, and how to think about it, if at all, but that is another matter. On to Asheville, and a baby I had seen the last time I was there, and for whom Scottie has an almost incurable infatuation. She is not the prettiest baby I have ever fucked, nor the slimmest, but there is something almost feral about her that I find intoxicating, at least in bed.
I arrived late Monday evening, but had been texting her all afternoon, and so she was ready for our arrival. Instead of drinks and dinner, she suggested we meet at the hotel, and she would bring some wine and toys! Sounds good to me! I check in, shower, and text her the landing coordinates. A few minutes later, she arrives, and after some small talk, and a paper cup or two of wine each, we get down to business.
Now this baby has an incredible head of hair, very thick and luxurious, and one of her profile photos is of just her hair, from behind, so I already know there is something to it that she likes. As we are kissing, she starts to talk dirty, asking me to do various things to her that I would do anyway, but having it spelled out like that was helpful and quite erotic, I must say. Eventually she gets around to "I love it when you pull my hair", which stirs a vague memory in me of another baby, who also had long, thick beautiful red hair, and a penchant for cashmere and penny loafers, and who also liked things a little on the rough side. Obligingly, I grab a handful of her locks just at the base of her neck and simply close my hand, thereby creating a tension on her hair that produces one of the louder moans she has yet to emit that evening, so far at least. This is apparently just what the doctor ordered, and she urges me on by kissing me hard, with just the hint of a bite, and moving my hand firmly between her legs. I continue along these lines for a bit more, kissing, pulling, and petting, until she indicates that it is finally time to get serious.
I move around to doggie, grab some more hair, and on a whim, give her a solid smack on her exquisite ass. Well, my brothers, this is apparently what she has been waiting for, and she lets out a sound that I'm not sure I've ever heard before from anyone, clamps down hard on Scottie, and pushes up and back with a force that almost knocks me over! Ride 'em cowboy indeed! Fortunately I am a graduate of the Polo School of Recreational Spanking, and so am able to "hit it", so to speak from both sides, all the while gently but firmly pulling on great handfuls of her glorious hair! With each swat she squeezed Scottie harder and harder, and it was the work of but a moment or two longer before things reached their climax, so to speak, and she slipped down onto the bed, apparently in a stupor of happiness and contentment.
I have to say at this point that while I was pleased to have given her the kind of thing she wanted, and was truly impressed with the power and size of her orgasm, I'm just not into the whole spanking thing. I guess I'm happy to oblige, if that's where a baby wants to be taken, but it does little to nothing for Scottie and me by itself. The pleasure for me, I now think, is in the reaction of the baby, not the action of spanking, if that makes any sense. Apparently she is not alone among babies in sometimes just needing some discipline, however, since a few days after I got back there was an article in the paper about the rise of BD / SM scenarios among the soccer mom set, brought on, it said, by the "Shades of Grey" books. Whatever.
We spend the next hour or so engaged in what used to be called "heavy petting", then went for round two, after which she curled up in my arms and fell asleep. I will refrain from any more blow-by-blow, except to say that she was on a four hour sleep cycle, and apparently having some fairly salacious dreams, as I barely got any more sleep that night, long into the morning. Overnights are nice, but I need to work out more before I head down there again. The following evening was spent with Brother Rat doing our best to deplete the town of its craft beer supply, and the night after that was back with Naughty Baby; a wonderful time indeed. I love Asheville!
I share this not to boast, (well, maybe just a little) but to offer the suggestion that you all might, the next time you are with your babies, give them a light smack, just to see how they react. It could open up a whole new world for you both, unless you have already discovered it.
As for me, I am back at work, my head all ajumble with thoughts of my sweet NOLA baby, and how in the hell I am going to get to see her again anytime soon. Do you think airline tickets and hotel room for a week is a legitimate thing to ask for on Kickstarter?
Peace,
Scott
PS - we never did get around to the toys. Next time, I guess!