It's hard to come up with the words about how amazing this past weekend was. How much pride I felt in who I am and who I choose to surround myself with. How much love I felt from those I love back. How much caring was shown for others. How much sheer lust pulsated through that event that it could be felt dripping off the walls and ceiling. How much amazingly scorching hot play happened.
I'm flabbergasted, really.
When I sit back today and reminisce, I forget all the bad things. I forget all about my misplaced luggage that I just had returned to me, the panic of losing my cell phone to then have it returned Tuesday afternoon by an amazing samaritan.
I can only feel two things... love, and lust.
Let's face it, there was a lot of it.
The look of my girl's eyes boring into mine as my piss flows in streams over her body during my class. How the attendees melted away for the briefest of seconds as our eyes locked and we shared with each other the most intimate of sex acts. How her mouth opened and tasted my stream, an educational act turned into one of devious desire.
Seeing all of the class attendees smiling and writhing in their seats afterwords.
The sounds of a lovely British girl gasping and moaning as we stepped out of the LJ/Fetlife/Twitter world and entered into real life.
The excitement of a hot, hot, HOT butch who I purchased in the Celebrity Auction who finally got to writhe in masochistic heaven in a scene that blurred reality altogether.
The looks of lust in the friend who received me as a gift from the Celebrity Auction, having not bottomed in a year and a half, trusting me and wanting me to bring her back to that place. The sounds when clothespins are whipped off the body into the air, followed by the giggles afterwords.
The sheer pleasure bouncing off the walls as the hottest man in NYC dressed in a luche libre mask bottomed to two gender warriors as we all watched and shared in the joy.
Watching my sister singletail a close and dear friend, and feeling the release of hunger that came with it.
The feel of Cinderella's tongue after she tried on Prince Charming's panties oh so briefly, foreshadowing possible future encounters.
Watching family members give in to the urges and show their deviant selves, proving all the way that I was born to be in this family.
The taste of blood on my lips as the thorns of a rose cane pierced my love over and over again, to then be whipped into frenzy afterwords. Our tongues entwined sharing our essences.
Lust was certainly everywhere you looked. Everywhere you touched. Everywhere you walked.
And it was backed by love.
Deep rooted love that grounded us. Made us strong. Akin to the roots of a tree, keeping us in place and binding us to the safety and sureness that we need to truly live.
Love from family.
Love from friends.
Love from partners.
The love felt from just sitting with your pack, sharing in the joys and the spectacles.
The love that makes you leap to a friend in need. When a scene goes awry, and after the bottom has been treated and dealt with, your love for a friend brings you to him to hold his hand, stroke his hair, and make the bad softly drift away. The love that enables you to be there at those moments, instinctively, immediately, without any doubt.
The love for people who you have not seen in months, or even years, that enables you to fall into each others arms as if we last graced each others presence only yesterday.
The love for my partner who trusted me when panic reared it's head, allowing me to bring her into an uncomfortable place and make it hot and wonderful and delicious, especially when no one was watching.
Lust and love. Love and lust. Which is the egg, and which is the chicken? Did they hatch in consecutive order, or did it all explode at the same time, transcending biology and the other sciences and turning into something otherworldly?
IMsL 2009 had both in riches. And we got to bathe in its spoils.
I'm still counting my treasures.