Wenonah Rider
Wow.
What a great time.
Last night, after dinner (on-the-fly jumbalaya, which my father enjoyed), I headed down to Wenonah, New Jersey, for a date with a man we'll call Wenonah Sir. The roads were treacherous. It was a relatively balmy day here in Bucks County yesterday, with temperatures approaching the forties. But then, the mercury plunged, and all the snow that had melted and puddled everywhere on the roads became ice. Nothing like fish-tailing down River Road (abutting the canal, famous for taking the life of Jessica Savitch) to set my nerves on edge. But, after what seemed like forever, I pulled into the driveway of the Arts and Crafts cottage belonging to Wenonah Sir and Wenonah pup.
pup greeted me at the door. Sir was down in the dungeon. We made chit chat. Mostly about dogs. They have a beauty, a rescued greyhound. Apparently, Sir just gets lost down in the dungeon, whiling (wiling?) away the hours. (Better believe that piqued my interest.) Presently, Sir joined us. More talk about dogs. pup excused himself, and Sir offered me a tour of said dungeon.
Down the stairs we went.
Wow.
A dungeon is sacred space. Or should be. What the Celts call a 'thin place,' where the divide between this world and other realms is more than permeable. Wenonah Sir has done a masterful job.
The space was about ten by twenty-five. There was a sling, and a great bed Sir had made and suspended from chains so that it rocked gently, a St. Andrew's cross. And some other cool stuff that Sir had picked up at Goodwill stores and such, including an invalid chair. Wenona Sir showed me his impressive flogger collection and some of his other toys. A really cool set up.
But what Wenonah Sir really takes delight in, and the area where he surpasses every other playspace artisan I've known, was in lighting. Wow! A lot of the lights were picked up by Sir and incredible markdowns in the weeks after Christmas. But there were also items that would make a circuit boy twirl. And then there was the fog machine, which had the place shrouded in mist in minutes. The mist and the lights made for a truly psychedelic venue.
Wenonah Sir and I sat on the bed talking, describing scenes we had done, and swapping tales of low-cost pervertibles. I described how I got a safety harness--perfect for suspension--off the internet for the low low low price of $70. And I described the scene I one day wanted to do with it: putting the bottom in the suspension harness dangling from a tree limb, then wrapping him completely in duct tape. In effect, making a big crysalis. Alas, the tree limb and the bottom have yet to present themselves, but when they do, I'm ready.
Wenonah Sir smiled.
"I do something along those lines," he said. "Wanna see what I mean?"
"Shurrre," I replied.
Wenonah Sir told me to get ready, he'd be right back.
Now, I assumed that 'get ready' meant strip down. But the dungeon was a wee bit chilly.
FACT: In order not to expend energy maintaining a body temperature of 98.6 degrees Fahrenheit, the ambient temperature needs to be 85 degrees Fahrenheit. If you're wearing clothes, this is achieved by keeping in the body heat. If you're naked, then if the temperature is too warm or too cold, the body will expend energy to maintain this temperature. Sixty-eight degrees might feel fine when you're wearing your cardigan sweater and corduroy pants and fuzzy bunny slippers, but not when you're in the buff.
We now return you to our posting, already in progress.
So I took off my boots, and unzipped my flight suit, but kept it on. Then, I laid down on the bed, gently rocking myself, and watching my reflection in the ceiling mounted mirror above, while the lights played off the mists. Sooooo dream-like.
I was not quite conscious when Sir returned, having changed into rubber chaps. Sir was ready for business. He relieved me of the flight suit, and then, proceeded to wrap my arms and legs in shrink wrap.
Interesting.
After my limbs were wrapped up tightly, he lead me over to the sling, and I laid back and got comfy. Sir then proceeded to go to town with the shrink wrap, covering every inch of me until I was buried in the stuff.
Well... not every inch of me. My mouth remained uncovered. As did my butt hole and my dick. I was cocooned in the stuff. Opening my eyes, through the plastic film, all I could see were the multicolored lights playing off the scrim that covered my face.
Sir then proceeded, for the next several hours, to work on my hole and my cock. That was absolutely sublime.
But then, I felt that pressure in my lower abdomen. Building, building... I had to pee. And what do you expect? I put away about a half gallon of Rosenberger's Dairies Iced Tea on the ride down. When Sir did a check in, I let him know this.
Not a problem! Sir put a hot water bottle into position, and I fired away.
But after this piss break, I couldn't help noticing how the shrink wrap--although really gorgeous in the way it restricted my movements and dulled sensation, wasn't great as far as insulation goes. You guessed it, I was cold. I tried to keep my mind off it, focusing on giving my hole to Sir. And that worked for a while. But then, it was like we hit a breaking point. I started shivering convulsively, and my teeth started chattering.
Sir took note of this and decided that it was time to wrap up. Or unwrap, as the case may be. He fetched me a flannel shirt, and then we headed upstairs to join pup in bed. Bed was warm, and Sir wrapped his arms around me and parked his dick (a really beautiful beercan of a dick) up against my rosebud, hypersensitized by the workout it had gotten. I looked up at the clock before I drifted off. it was 5:13 a.m. Sir had me in my shrink wrap cocoon for about four hours.
Woof!
This morning, after some tusseling in the bed, pup fixed us pancakes, and we had breakfast while watching Mythbusters on the Discovery Channel. Then I took a shower (Sir and pup have a gang shower in their bathroom! Way to go!).
And here's a nice touch: every homosexual knows that you outta have extra toothbrushes available for unexpected (or expected) overnight guests. Sir and pup provided me with my own electric toothbrush, which I got to take home with me.
Classy!
*sigh*
So here I am back in the Humble Abode. Getting ready to fix a nice pot roast for dinner.
My butt feels like there's a mild electric current running through it.
Very cool.
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