Where am I?

Somewhere in the States. You can buy Moon Pies and beer in the convenience stores.

Dressed in my new dress. It's ALMOST perfect. I have to do a little adjusting.

T is here. It's so nice to hold hands with someone again.

~

"What are you still doing here?" Jenny says to T, thrusting a room card at him. "Take this woman away and do bad things to her!"

~

I got dressed in the hotel room, and came down to the lobby. I knew T was nearby, but I wasn't sure how far away.

I saw him before he saw me, but I blushed and looked away. I spent a lot of the weekend blushing.

He caught my eye and I smiled and held out my arms to him.

"Hey," he said, sliding into my hug.

"Hey," I said.

He kissed me then, with more passion and indecency than generally publically aceptable.

I didn't fucking care.

~

Do you remember Sam?

If you're a recent reader, then probably not.

Read back about ten years. He was before Mike, and then surfaced briefly again between Mike and Loren.

I walked into the Hotel, dragging my suitcase behind me, stinky and rumpled from a nine hour journey.

And yes. There in the lobby was Sam.

I managed to avoid him all weekend, except for a few passing encounters.

We nodded at each other, eyes heavy with words, and didn't say any of them.

~

I flashed my ankles at Jenny. It was one in the morning, or there abouts, and we were hard into the partying.

"Nice legs!" Jenny said and put her hands on my ankle, sliding up my legs. "Oh, nice!" she exclaimed, finding them freshly shaved.

She looked up at T and smiled sideways.

"You're getting laid tonight."

~

He walked me to my room. Three in the morning. Lots of liquor, lots of sneaky kisses. The elevator moves way too quickly.

"Here we are," he says with some regret, and I turn into his arms. I haven't even pulled out my room key yet.

He leans down to kiss me, and I wrap my arms around his neck. The kisses turn hungry, and I dig my fingernails into his shoulders. His hand slides into my hair and my breath catches.

There is a reason I keep my hair long. Not to say you cannot pull short hair, but I find something incredibly erotic about the image of a cascade of glossy brown-black hair, spilling from between the tight knuckles of a man.

He gripped, just hard enough to hurt, and pulled my head to the side for easy access to my neck.

My breath hiccupped in my throat; my hands worked convulsively at his back.

He pulled back and looked at my quizzically.

I smiled, shyly, a little.

"There is a reason," I told him, "that I keep my hair long."

He smiled, his crooked smile.

"I'm beginning to see that," he said, and before he was entirely finished, his knuckles tightened harder still and I couldn't think well anymore.

~

My scribal teacher approached me the next morning.

"I'm so glad you and T have something going on," she told me. "He is such a nice man."

I smiled, secretly pleased.

"Well," I told her. "I have a checklist now. I'm not allowed to date assholes or dumbasses anymore, and he is neither, so I thought I might date him."

She laughed.

~

Naked. He looks good naked. He is not my first Dutch man, but he definitely has more body hair than any previous ones. I'm not complaining.

He's trembling. I can feel it. It's in his whole body. I have always felt it; I thought it was perpetual.

"Nerves," he explains with embarassment.

I'm amused and surprised at the same time.

"Why are you nervous?" I asked, genuinely curious. Here he already has me well and truly willing and naked.

He shrugs.
~

We said long goodnights, and finally I pulled away and pulled out my room key, regretting I was sharing a room and couldn't take him with me.

A hand in my hair, an arm around my waist, teeth on my neck. One last feed before the night is through.

I gasped, I quivered. Too quickly he left me trembling on the doorstep.

"Goodnight," he purred, and disappeared around the corner.

Good night indeed.

~

I had a good weekend. How was yours?

.

Rosie.

Before&After