27

America – I did you. Oh how I did you. Wrap up of my first visit.

My last post wrapped up when I went back to Texas to visit with Daddy and how I took 10 years off his life with my cuts, bruises and bleeding in his car. Not the kind of bruising I was hoping for but best laid plans and all that. We never did break open his toy bag. All that leather that didn’t touch my skin, oh well. Next time. There’s always next time no?

Next time…

So I flew back into Vegas and let Scotty know I was back. He asked if I would stay with him again and I said that I thought it was best that I spend the last few days in Vegas in my room as it’s easier for me to buy all the bits and pieces I needed to take home and I didn’t want to inconvenience him with having him drive me everywhere. We didn’t ever get another night of amazing fucking, which is one of my regrets, but I figure he’s not going anywhere and he’s not given up on me yet so who knows, maybe there will be awesome sex happening again sometime soon.

I did however spend the second last night I was in Vegas with Mr. Married. Yes, he and his wife were in an open relationship, he found me on OKC while I was over there and he was in town on business trip so we agreed to meet up again as he was the one I had a date with but had to cancel because I was dying from the Santa Rampage and he bought me headache tablets to help while I was hiding in bed wishing I was dead.

So he knocked on my door after he’d finished work for the day, we picked up our conversation from the last time we met and before long we were ripping our clothes off and fell into bed. I have no idea how we went from amazing conversation to naked sex, but I blame his brain. I’m such a sapiosexual that I’ll blame that. His brain made me wet.

sapiosexual (comparative more sapiosexual, superlative most sapiosexual). Attracted to intelligence or the human mind.
Wiktionary

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6

Road Tripping: Texas take 2

I know y’all been hanging out for this and so here we go. It’s a follow on from here for those not up to date.

I got driven to the airport by Scotty and with a cuddle, kiss and grope and some words telling me to look after myself and get back to him in one piece I was on a plane bound for San Antonio again.

When I landed in San Antonio I was picked up at the airport by Daddy. Who drove wrapped me up in a great big hug and deposited me in this car as we drove off. We went for a brief drive where he showed me his place that he shared with his brother. I met the cat and I got to be a sticky beak at check out the books. There were books everywhere and books tell you a lot about a person.

We didn’t stay long before he drove me off to the hotel that he had booked for me to stay in. The Emily Morgan is really a very pretty hotel and I loved it. It had gargoyles on the outside, instant love for me. Gargoyles on anything. Love! It dates back to the 1920’s and the rooms were just quaint and darling. Definitely somewhere to go stay at again if I’m in town. It’s a few minutes walk to the River Walk and shops. And the Alamo.

I had 3 nights there, we spent 2 of those together, I had a night off in between to catch up with someone I went on a date with last time I was on town but it never turned into anything but friendship. He’s a lovely guy and we talk each other’s ears off.

But the first night was great, Daddy decided that we were going to have dinner close by so we went off to dinner by the river and I ate some gumbo because I was having withdrawals from New Orleans. We chatted about everything, lots of things, music, books, our disbelief in the religious icons that litter our world with such hatred and discord. The gumbo was perfect, the twinkly lights along the river were just wonderful – as was the company.

We headed back to the room after a brief walk around after dinner and sat and talked a bit, he opened the toy bag he brought along and there were all kinds of fun leather things in there – however being that I was taught to not play with other people’s toys I sat and stared at it longingly.

Which I then promptly forgot because things started to get hot and heavy. His grin widened as I undressed slowly for him with some shimmy’s. His eyes might have rolled back in his head as I started to devour him slowly. Suffice to say, we didn’t leave the room for the rest of the night and there was a lot of fun had.

The next day he offered to take me out to his quad biking ranch. His brother and he were starting a new business you see, quad biking. I was overjoyed. I might have squealed. A wee bit.

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5

Four years – it’s never goodbye my friend… it’s I’m going to see you soon.

Four years ago today my world fractured a wee bit and this morning when I opened my phone and I had a reminder of the anniversary I swallowed hard. 4 years. Where has the time gone? I still remember your smell.

4 years ago today, I got a call from one of my very close friends, J or better known as Mistress Ultra of Hellfire, our Mandy was missing.

I was confused. What do you mean missing? How can she be missing? I saw her not that long ago. She isn’t missing. She can’t be missing. What do you mean missing?

Mandy

Mandy, at the decks, taken at Hellfire August 2009 (stolen from the Hellfire Facebook)

I was glad I was sitting at this stage. I was advised that no one as seen her since the night before. Her ex-partner at the time was beside herself with worry. J’s tension and worry was making her voice waver over the phone. I swallowed the lump in my throat and pushed the tears in my eyes away.

So what do we know I asked. J advised that no one knows anything yet. The police are looking into it. She went out the night before and that was all we knew.

The tenterhooks started that day.

My already failing relationship took a nose dive for the worst. And the less we heard about what was going on the bigger the hole I fell into.

I used to scoff at people who said they were depressed. I didn’t get it. Believe me, by the end of the week I knew what rock bottom was like.

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14

Road Tripping: Sobering up in Vegas with Scotty

You know, I’ve had a pretty shitty week so I thought what better way to end it than to start to wrap up my very first State-side road trip.

So I believe we left off where I woke up with the random Santa in my bed and drunk amnesia, no?

2 days of alcohol poisoning had left me feeling a bit weak and useless. My luggage had finally turned up so I walked down to the Greyhound station to pick up my pretty pink wheelie and take it back to my room and finally get into some clean clothes.

Scotty had been in contact again, requesting my presence. I begged off saying I wasn’t human and he told me I didn’t have a say because he couldn’t take care of me unless we were together. So he asked where I was staying, what room I was in and turned up no more than 30 minutes later. Settled into the sofa in my room and just looked hot and smouldering staring at me while I tried to unpack my clothes as I got more and more flustered at his staring and his caresses as I passed by. Ok, so maybe I stopped to throw myself into his lap on occasion to make out and hump his leg. I am not above my hormones, oh no.

I gave up trying to unpack my wayward luggage and sat on the edge of the bed feeling about as useful as tits on a bull when Scotty pipes up that I should just pack up my luggage and go stay with him.

You could hear the crickets chirping as I considered this.

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17

My lucky knickers

Do you have a pair of lucky knickers?

These always get me laid.

ALWAYS.

Except today. I wore them because I ran out of underwear – obviously the laundry fairy hasn’t visited so I didn’t have any clean ones. Or I could possibly have some clean ones, in the great big pile of clean washing waiting to be put away. Oh laundry fairy, where are you?! Plus I now remember why I don’t like g-strings with literal strings on them. I feel like I have something trying to cut my ass open. How do girls wear these every day?!

So anyway, these undies, they are black satin with clips on either side that make them easy access. You know those clips they are like the back of bikini tops but smaller. They latch on and latch off. Instead of bows I have one hand unclip knickers.

Think these, but with clips on the side…

I remember a night we went out for a friend’s birthday many many years ago to some goth night somewhere and I thought I’d wear my lucky knickers and see if anything happened – I generally don’t do Goths as I just don’t find them sexually appetising. So I got all dressed up, in a corset – which there’s a picture of me in one, with one of my beautiful velvet skirts that had a split up the side all the way to the waist with buttons down so you could undo them to whatever thigh length you wanted. And my knickers.

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18

Road Tripping: Back to Vegas

Well, when I left New Orleans for my 2 day bus ride back to Vegas I wasn’t expecting anything too much apart from catching up on sleep. And catching up on sleep I did do. It was fabulous. I also got to experience Route 66 – from the front of a bus.

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1

The Shame Files: Bathroom Mortification

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You know those stories, the ones that you only tell if you’re really really really shit faced drunk? And even then you slur and murmur it to the best of your ability so that no one else can decipher what you said?

Well, today that’s what we’re going to talk about since the other night on the twat (twitter) I lamented that I had the worst writers block and Aussa, being such a lovely, kind and giving kind of woman piped up with how I should tell about something mortifying that has happened to me.

After I giggled at this in bed, it was about midnight Australian time after all… I said yes. Ok, I will. And without further ado; here’s the story. Minus the 3 bottles of tequila. Ooooooooooh boy.

Sydney has one of the most joyous of celebrations… The Gay & Lesbian Mardi Gras I thought going dressed as a kinky fairy would be fun. Because kinky any things are fun right? Right.

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10

Dancing alone in the moonlight on the banks of the Mississippi

I’ve noticed that I’ve waxed lyrical about a lot of serious topics lately and I thought I would lighten the mood by taking y’all back to New Orleans and the rest of my time there.

So after I got chased away by the guy that wouldn’t take no for an answer in McDonald’s I headed off to find the river. I wanted to read my book in peace by the water. I’d missed being by the water by this stage. Living in Sydney means that I’m near the water all the time and at the beach at least once a week. Having gone nearly 2 weeks without seeing water was making me anxious.

Hello Mississippi!

Hello Mississippi!

I wandered over and started to read my book for a few hours. At which point I figured most the shops would be open and I should go and replace that phone I lost while being a drunken wench in Austin.

As I was walking back from the riverside I walked through Jackson Square. And you know, Jackson Square is just beautiful. The park in the middle would become my go to place to read in the mornings with my cup of coffee before the heat got so oppressive.  The one thing about NOLA that I love? The history. It seeps into your bones as you are wondering around. There are tales of pirates, vampires and witches all over.  Ann Rice might have expressed the beauty of New Orleans a lot better than I am.

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8

NOLA – The first time around.

NOLA – it’s slowly creeping into my blood and becoming one of my other loves.

My first time there, however, was a stark contrast to my latest visit a few months ago.

You see, I’d jumped on the greyhound from Austin and decided that I wanted to skip the rest of Texas and get my ass to New Orleans for the 4th of July, Texas had a ban on fireworks due to fire hazards and being a sucker for some bang bang sparkle ooooohhh!!! I decided that New Orleans was it because you know, they are on a river, what fire danger could some bang bang sparkle pose?

This took practically a day of travelling non-stop to get my butt into the city for the morning of the 4th. Thankfully no one on the greyhound decided to use me as their body pillow on this stretch and there were no delays or sleeping on tiled floors in the greyhound stations.

I got into New Orleans greyhound/train station about 6am. The sun was just starting to shimmer over the horizon. I stepped out of the air-conditioned station and then turned my heels right around and went back in to get a drink of water before braving the humidity that reminded me of Darwin all over again. And when I say reminded me of Darwin I mean that as soon as you walk out into it you feel every drop of moisture leave your body and float away merrily while sticking its tongue out at you as you suffer..

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11

My forever Austin – in ink.

After the failed “date” with the man who baptised me in his mouth after I told him I won’t suck his dick, I was starting to think that Austin was possibly a place I didn’t want to extend my stay in. But then figured I wasn’t giving the town enough of a chance. Just because there was one douchebag didn’t mean that there were more. How many dingbats could I possibly encounter as a single woman in Austin after all?

Not that many it turns out – feel free to read about my lovely trip here.

But what this post is about is how I left Austin with some new ink.

You see I was walking down the street (not as gracefully as I usually do after day 2 of drinking myself silly with drag queens) and I had one of those thought bubbles that light up above your head and flash like a police vehicle.

I wanted a new tattoo. It was time. It had been a long while since my last one and I never got around to gifting myself for my 30th with one. So I jumped on the lappy and looked up tattoo parlours on Yelp. One that came up with for Sailors Grave Ink along 6th. I hear they’ve since moved.

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