Fetish clubbing tonight, which should be fairly brilliant, followed by a weekend in the city making the most of hotel facilities and as much pervery as you can fit into two reasonably sized suitcases. I sat on mine to get it done up and, on triumphantly padlocking the two halves of the zip together, realised I hasn't actually got proper clothes with me. Probably irrelevant, I doubt I'll need more than what I'm travelling in.
A chance, tonight, to dredge up and tick off a few of my long term fantasies. Not that things so far have been by any means one-sided, but we've mostly gone for things he's suggested and I've thought were a great idea, or decided were worth a try and ended up loving. I think all of tonight's set up was my idea first, and this is pleasingly new to me. I'm excited.
What's not as new to me as he thinks is the club sex. I'm not hiding much, it's just that when playmate du jour was first warned of my relative inexperience, his reaction was interesting, and I may have been laying it on a little thick since then. You know, the "why, no... I've never done that..." which I might possibly have lead him to the impression covers sex with an audience. White lies, white lies, I figured I'd be best off not telling the Berlin Story, particularly as aforementioned playmate and I were already seeing each other when I had that little interlude.
I haven't even posted any club sex stories yet, have I? Shame on me, bad girl, etc. My very next post, promise.
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