I thought I'd never make it to Sex 2.0.
Really, I'd thought I'd never even make it to DC. There had been a serious error in the bus schedule, leaving me scrabbling for an alternative on a weekend when most of my friends had left town and none of my DC acquaintances were willing to help me out. After shelling out $30 for a taxi, I arrived at my friend's house 4 hours later than I had planned, exhausted and dusty. 30 minutes later I was off again when I received text messages indicating that
Jefferson was still awake and, presumably, fucking. But there was always something, and this time I had seriously underestimated the time it took to travel across what seemed to be the entirety of DC.
Why am I doing this? I wondered several times as I struggled to follow Google's directions in an unfamiliar city at 11:00 at night, and couldn't come up with anything except that listening to Charlaine Harris'
Horny Vampire Novels for a week had done me in. The thought of so many sex bloggers in such close proximity forced me to press on even when I knew how unreasonable it was to expect an open-arms welcome from people I barely knew. The closer I got, the later it got, and I felt my chances of being fucked decrease exponentially.
But when I finally arrived at the hotel, I discovered I hadn't missed the party at all. Jefferson was outside with two women, Elle Lumpesse and Domina Doll, and he was making out with the latter.
"I see you didn't waste any time," I snarked, but Jefferson looked so happy that I felt it melting away almost immediately. He led the way to the Brownies and Porn party, which was several floors up. Along the way we met Lolita Wolf in her PJs, but that's a story for another post. Within ten minutes of my arrival, I found myself in a suite where hardcore pornography was playing on two TVs and at least 30 people who I had never met were already deep in loud conversation. They were all older than me, there were two girls who were much prettier than me, and I had no idea how to break into the cacophony. Jefferson did his best to make introductions, but in minutes was distracted by a boy who had come to Sex 2.0 out of curiosity.
Hey, I heard Jefferson saying,
isn't this ice cream? Can we feed you ice cream? Where's Molly? Jefferson pulled the boy's shirt over his head, revealing a perfectly rounded tummy that wouldn't have looked out of place on the Myspace profiles I'd jacked myself off to in the past year. "Excuse me," I said to the person nearest, and went into the other room.
There were only three people in it, quietly watching porn. One of them was Match--I recognized him from his Flickr photos.
Too much? Match inquired. He was in a brown bathrobe that made him look like a monk.
Yes, I said. I peeped in the other room and Jefferson waved a dripping spoon at me. I shook my head. "Wait ten minutes," I said,
and then I'll be in the thick of things again, you'll see. "What are they doing?" Match was worried, since he had to sleep in the bed that people were committing unknown acts with ice cream on, and I decided to use that as my cue.
"Hey peeps, don't get ice cream on the bed!" I yelled, and the answering laughter gave me enough courage to go back in. "What are you doing?" I asked.
"Blowing this boy with ice cream," said Jefferson matter of factly. He was straddling the young man's hips and working his uncut dick with his hands. The boy's shirt was pushed up, and his naked belly was shiny with melted ice cream and littered with chocolate and cherry pieces.
"In the beginning he had chocolate chips in his pubes," said
Furrygirl. "It was cute". The bed was crowded. The boy's hand was being cradled by Furrygirl (to keep him from becoming gay, she teased him) and she in turn was leaning up against a second boy. And that was only one half of the bed. She pointed out to Jefferson that he had some chocolate on his face, and he wiped it off, saying,
Isn't this awesome? "I thought you were straight?" the boy asked Jefferson.
"Oh, I was until I met you!" exclaimed Jefferson in a voice so redolent with feather boas that I stared.
How the hell could anyone ever think he was straight, I wondered in disbelief. That a man known primarily for his skill in finding women's G-spots would constantly set off my gaydar was one of the many things about him that had been unexpected. Though I had been reading his blog for a year, if you added up all the face time we spent together, it was probably no more than 8 hours.
I was still racked by nerves, but the scene he had started was something I could get into. I knelt by the bed. "If I hold your other hand", I told the boy, "it would really keep you from becoming gay. And if I kissed you", I added, "it would make it even better."
He made out with me well enough, though I don't think he really liked it. "Is he your boyfriend?" he asked when we we parted lips, and it took me a second to realize he meant Jefferson. My surprised expression made him add a list of other relationship names, which made this all sound way too serious.
"Fangirl?" I attempted. I watched Jefferson work the boy's cock with his mouth, tried again. "Jefferson's the only pervert I know."
"Aw," said Furrygirl in sympathy.
Even though the boy hadn't come, Jefferson stopped and tucked the boy's cock away, telling him he had very much enjoyed sucking it. Then he tried to kiss him, but the boy turned his head away. Undaunted by this rejection, Jefferson went to get a towel to wipe the boy's belly down with, explaining that, just like at the gym, you had to wipe down your machine when you were through. Newly cleaned, the boy got off the bed and I jumped into the vacant spot, hoping for similar attentions, but Jefferson was already talking to someone else.
After a while Jefferson began playing with my hair, gripping it in a knot and moving it from side to side. This was fine until he started doing other things. "What are you doing?" I sputtered as he squeezed my cheeks betwen his forearms.
"Playing with your face," he told me.
I gave up on the idea of Jefferson fucking me that night and talked to the cute boy sitting next to me about computer programs. Suddenly Jefferson had me by the crook of my knee, and what I thought was an inarticulate request for me to move over so he could sit on the bed devolved into him pushing me onto my back, pulling me around so my crotch was in easy reach and and skinning off my tights and panties. "Hi, Molly," said Furrygirl as my head ended up by her feet.
"Hi," I managed to say as Jefferson pushed my legs above my head. The boy behind Furrygirl handed him a condom.
"Magnums?" said Jefferson in disbelief, "I dunno what stories you've been hearing!"
"Jefferson has a real cock!" I said, proud that I spoke from experience and then immediately regretting my words in case there were some naturally endowed men in the room that would feel left out.
Jefferson agreed that his was indeed a normal cock.
And speaking of penises, he said,
you should look at the one my friend has here-- and motioned to Furrygirl, who opened her legs. Since I was right by her feet and she wasn't wearing any panties, I found myself in prime position to gaze upon the most beautiful bush I had ever seen. The hair was thick, lustrous, and dark, much closer than my own, and beautifully shaped between her thighs.
It's pretty, I said, making the understatement of the year. In fact it was so pretty I had no idea what to say next and turned back to Jefferson to hide the dazed look that I was sure was spreading over my face. I had no idea what orientation Furrygirl was, and she didn't seem to be ready to play, having designated herself the Safe Sex Fairy. She squirted a dollop of the lube Match had put on the bedside table onto Jefferson's hand so that he could better work it up inside me, for in spite of all this cock talk, Jefferson kept his jeans on.
Not that I was at all disappointed. "Oh yeah," I said, spreading my thighs wider as he entered me with his fingers on the bed in the middle of a crowd of people, "oh yeah, I remember this!" The first and last time Jefferson had done this was at the orgy three months ago, and, though I don't think he had been unnecessarily rough, I remembered it as intense more than pleasurable. This time I felt the wetness come, and I began to understand how this might become something I could get off on. Jefferson made an appreciative sound as my pussy began to make wet noises.
"No, stop!" I yelped at Jefferson nipped at my belly with his teeth.
He was annoyed with me. "It's just a love bite--"
"You can't leave marks," I said, "tomorrow I'm meeting this boy for the firrrrsssttt---"
I didn't get to say the last word because Jefferson was picking up the pace.
Does he know you like this? he said, pressing down on my belly,
does he know you're a slut that likes to get fucked in front of all these people? and I arched my back with the truth of all these things and the feeling of his fingers forced inside me.
"How many is that?" I gasped. "Three?"
"Four," said Jefferson. "And that's the beginning of five."
"Fisting?" asked someone (I think it may have been
Jack).
Five started to hurt, so I reluctantly asked him to stop. We knocked teeth accidentally when he tried to kiss me better. "With you it always hurts," I pouted, and we kissed again.
In our play we had naturally moved around, but when you'd think we would have moved forwards, Jefferson had actually gotten so close to the edge of the bed that he slipped off and ended up sitting in the space between the bed and the wall. There was much hilarity. I gave him my hands to help him pull himself up and used my leverage to pull him down on top of me instead. "I wasn't planning to go
here!" he grinned. But he must not have minded because he stayed. Before I had come here I had fashioned--and hinted at--all kinds of rough fantasies, but right now this was exactly what I wanted. They were hello kisses, welcome back kisses. I wrapped my legs around him and crossed my ankles over the small of his back, squeezing him. "You taste like the boy you blew earlier," I whispered in his ear.
Jefferson grinned at me. "That's the ice cream talking," he said.
