Way back at the beginning of May, I enjoyed a revelry-filled weekend away with kvetch in the company of a group of friends. Technically, these friends are (mostly) vanilla. Having said that, they’re also quite kink-friendly. They are thoroughly inclusive and supportive in ways which allow me to enjoy squeaky Irvingness and general fully-dressed pervery in perfect safety whenever the mood takes me. :)
Anyhow, on the Friday night, just for fun, one friend had brought along a bag of long balloons, those ones that can be squozen and twisted into balloon animals. Because my friends are imaginative and creative, the ensuing balloon art was mostly, um, not representations of animals. ;)
My first attempts at creative balloonery ended up with me nearly busting a gut for about 40 minutes trying to inflate a red balloon, until somebody finally saw fit to mention to me:
- “Oh, yeah, right, actually, um, none of the red ones inflate properly, here, have some other coloured ones.”
It took maybe an hour for my face to return to its usual colour, and for the dizziness to subside. You know, that kind of dizziness you get when you try really hard to inflate a pencil using only your nose?
Anyhow, I indulged myself in a (rather breathless) rant for several minutes, addressing the importance of communication and consideration for the eye-popping-lung-related health of people who are supposed to be one’s friends.
After which I felt much better. :)
For some reason my creative juices were flowing away from the balloon animal department at that particular moment, and towards the balloon millinery department instead.
In other words, I made a rather smart balloony hat. :)
- (ok, yes, I admit it, I deliberately made a hat that looks like a penis)
So, after numerous beverages had been consumed, balloons variously inflated (or not), and assorted states of tiredness and inebriation were settling in nicely, one of my perv-friendly friends managed to capture one of my vanilla-pervily-intertwined moments on
film memory card.
So here I am, wearing my extra-smart bespoke penile millinery, a handcuffy-styled chain with the keys to kvetch’s chastity device on it, and enjoying a shared intimate moment with Irving, my rubber chicken and flogger, all in a supportive, inclusive, totally vanilla environment.
That same evening, this low-resolution moment was captured on the phonecam of a friend who apparently has phenomenal lung function (despite being a smoker). She showed off her Superhero Lungness to me by making me a red balloon model of a certain human part. Can you guess which part it is?
- (hint: it isn’t a spleen)
I know I’m fortunate to have friends like this.
Although the weekend I described above was something entirely different to this year’s Bicon, and my friends at that weekend are entirely separate and different to Bicon-ers, (although they’re every bit as inclusive and friendly), I’d like to take this opportunity to echo a friend’s sentiment: