Going to California… Friday Night’s Story

Last Friday evening, I flew down to San Francisco to visit Roxy, only the second time I’ve been there and the sixth time we’ve been in the same physical space together.  Our last togetherness was in November, the trip to New York City.

I went to work, luggage and laptop in my truck.  As the hours crept by, we flirted, teased and distracted each other.  Roxy was trying to get a lot done in a short amount of time and I was trying to do meaningful work but losing ground as the day went on.  At three 0’clock, I left work and started north, calling Roxy on my cell so she could keep me company.

I had no trouble getting to the airport on time.  In fact, I had enough time to hang out and have a nice Mac N Jack’s Black Jack Porter before getting to my gate.  I had one half of a Meconi’s sub sandwich in my backpack, knowing I’d need something between lunch and the late dinner Roxy and I had planned.  I sat in the gate area and listened for my boarding group and happily chomped on it.

I found my seat and finished my food while the other passengers boarded. I spent most of the flight listening to music and watching TV.  I read a little from Ivan Coyote’s ‘Loose End’.  And I watched the graphic representation of my journey, willing the plane to go faster, eagerly watching as the miles between Roxy and me shrunk down to nothing.

Once at the airport, I made my way quickly to find her.  I could see her through the glass doors and waved but she didn’t see me, too much reflection and other people in the way.  I did see the look on her face:  smiling anticipation.  Then I was finally clear of the doors and crowds and she saw me, breaking into an even wider grin.

I moved in for the kill, er, kiss, and got a quick one in before she pulled me over to where a small, older woman was sitting nearby.  Apparently she’d been talking to the woman about me, her partner who lived far away.  The woman in turn talked about who she was waiting for:  an entire part of the family she’d never met, the Asian branch, started by her Uncle who’d lived in China and married a Korean woman.  The older woman wasted no time in imparting this wisdom, grasping my arm and saying emphatically “You need to move here!”

Apparently, during their conversation, she’d been passing on the wisdom of her long life, to wit, life’s too short, so don’t wait to do what you want to make yourself happy.  As we walked away, arms around each other, we mused that it would be lovely for one of us to be able to move here or there.   But what Roxy’s new friend didn’t know was just how complicated our love affair actually was, if she had, I wonder what her advice would have been.

While waiting for my garishly floral luggage to come along, we did our best to subtly scandalize the other passengers as Roxy pinned me to the wall and worked her fingers as far into my folds as my jeans would allow.   Damn, damn damn.

I wanted to change into a clean shirt before heading out to dinner, so we went back to the restroom and took up residence in one of the handicapped stalls.  We got into some serious groping and more… a happy ending or two later and I was freshened up and ready to get out into the world.  Roxy was just pulling out her phone to text Arron when he came skipping up to us.  Arron and I have been friends for some time now, but this was the first time we’d met in person.

We had dinner at the Elephant Bar.  It was just as Elephant-centric as you’d expect, pretty much anywhere you turned, there was something Elephant-ish.   I ordered crispy teriyaki chicken, Arron and Roxy ordered pad thai.  They teased each other about being copy-cats.  Dinner was excellent and the company and conversation was fun and easy.  Arron was easy to hang out with, fun to get silly with.

We goofed around with “lesbian sign language”, Arron and I fondled my curvy beer glass and the three of us got silly.  It was really easy to hang out with him, and the three of us have a similarly irreverent, smart sense of humor.  We all shared an obscenely large dessert of ice cream mud pie, which was delicious.  As we left, Roxy tried to duplicate the butch swagger, with a very wide stance that looked a bit more like the “I’ve ridden a horse too long” swagger.  I joked to Arron that my butch swagger was decidedly “package-forward” which made him laugh.

licking the creme

After dropping Arron back at SFO so he could catch the BART homeward, we proceeded to the hotel.  Roxy asked me to undo my pants for her. Then she reached over and made me come long and hard and more than once while driving on the freeway.  I was so horny, so ready, I was pushing up from the seat and ended up with the side of my head jammed against the ceiling of the car, coming loud and long.  Which, now that I think about it, meant my pussy and her hand would have been visible to anyone who could see through the darkness, rain and tinted windows. Hmmmm.. heh heh.

We arrived at the hotel, carried our stuff into the room through falling rain.  The room smelled of the narcissus she’d placed there hours earlier.  It was a sweet touch, homey and romantic.  A lot of sex happened, Roxy was very eager to pull several dozen orgasms of me, and she’s damned good at it.  I got fucked and sucked and penetrated and perpetrated in so many wonderful, sexy ways.  The Kylegasm fest wrapped up with me curled in a mindless ball up against the pillows.  She finished me with an ass fucking accompanied by clitoral stimulation that absolutely blew my circuits.  Completely. Gone.  I could not form words in my mind or mouth for a long time after.  She petted me, covered me with blankets and asked if I was ok.  I made some hand motions and made a ‘shhzzzz shzzzzz’ noise that was meant to communicate: Wow, honey, that was an exceptionally good fuck and a mind-blowingly good orgasm.  I am beyond words right now because all my synapses are doing a happy dance.  I love you.”

Instead of saying any of those things, I giggled and burbled and made funny sound effect noises and some more hand motions.  There was probably a lot of “ohmygodohmygodohmygod, honey” as well.

The night ended with me curled around her, warm snuggly happiness.   Our bodies were exhausted and she dropped quickly into a heavy sleep.  My mind wouldn’t let me do the same, it was too busy reciting the days activities and thinking ahead to the next day.  Saturday was a big day.  Not only did we have the entire day together, without any other responsibilities, but she was going to collar me.  She was going to make me Hers and take me to a dungeon to celebrate.

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3 Responses to Going to California… Friday Night’s Story

  1. Pingback: In the Dungeon with the Dom of my Dreams « Butchtastic

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