Love struck teenagers

So I finally escaped the hippies and found a hotel room about 30 miles away, in grand old Tennessee.  With air conditioning.  And cell service.  And WiFi.

If you’re waiting for emails/responses from me, I’m afraid you’ll have to wait another day.  I’ve only got this night to myself (well, my spawn is with me, but you know what I mean), and I’ll have to be back at the hippie compound at 8am in the morning (translation: 5am, Vegas time, ugh), and I wouldn’t even be posting this if it wasn’t already more than halfway finished.  The spare time that I do have before I collapse from exhaustion, I want to use to talk to the people I own.

The hippies are interesting.  And the people I’m not related to are really nice.  It’s an odd feeling, being surrounded by people who are so remarkably open and unguarded.  I spend most of my time learning about the walls that any given person has built up around themselves, and figuring out how to get around them, while simultaneously (and perhaps hypocritically) strengthening the ones around myself.

There are no walls here.  There is no hiding here.  I see these men and women who are just so open, who allow themselves to be so vulnerable, it’s disconcerting to be around.  All I can do is sit back and watch them interact with each other, uninhibited, unguarded, uncensored.

They laugh without reservation, they cry without reservation, they hug and kiss and touch the people they love without worrying about what other people may think.  Watching two straight, married men kiss and hold hands upon greeting was shocking to me the first time I saw it, but no one else seemed to think there was anything strange about it.

Which made me think about the way I see things like that.  I mean, when two people love and care about each other, why shouldn’t they show it?  It’s kind of beautiful.  I’m glad to have been here to see that.

But as much as I’ve enjoyed spending time with these people, seeing the incredible way they live their lives, so far my favorite part of the trip was the first day I arrived.

My daughter and I got off the plane, got our bags, and piled into Steel’s car.

I’d arranged to land in his city, rather than the closest city to where my mom lived, and arranged to land in the evening so he would be able to pick us up and spend some time with us before driving us to my mom’s house.

It had been months since we’d seen each other, and as soon as I made sure the spawn was safely buckled in the back seat, I threw my arms around him and hugged him, kissing the back of his neck and holding him tight.

I’d already pulled his collar out and locked it around his neck, kissing his ear as the lock clicked closed.

Mine.

Moments later, I reluctantly peeled myself off him, and he was pulling out onto the road, toward a restaurant we’d gone to last time I’d gone to see him.

The spawn was shy at first, as she usually is around new people, but very quickly warmed up to him and was devastated when I told her at the restaurant that she’d have to settle for sitting next to him, that I wouldn’t let her sit on-fucking-top of him.

The poor dear.

All through dinner, it took every ounce of willpower I had to keep my hands off of him.  And I wasn’t exactly 100% successful with that.

Afterward, I wasn’t ready to make the drive to my mom’s house yet, so we found a table outside where we could sit for a little while.  I tossed the spawn my phone, and she was quickly engrossed in a game, completely oblivious to us.

And right around that point was when I found out that he had brought a clothespin with him.  I discreetly pulled his cock out and attached the clothespin to it, savoring that quiet little gasp he gave, and the immediate, if subtle, surrender in his eyes as he met mine.

We were in public, and he was trying very hard not to give in to his desire to curl up in my lap right then and there.  And really, he resisted that urge pretty well.

It was fun, and made me feel like we were a couple of teenagers, whispering to each other, sneaking in the occasional kiss, hurriedly copping the occasional feel, when the parents  (ie, my kid) weren’t looking.

After so long of being hungry for him, but unable to touch him, it was heaven to be able to finally get a taste of the boy I’m going to fucking devour when I finally get him to myself.

It doesn’t matter how long we’re apart.  It never does.  The moment we’re back together, he melts right into me so perfectly.  It’s immediately clear to both of us that he belongs there, his face buried in my neck, his arms wrapped around me, whining and gasping and begging when I reached down to pull on the clip on his cock.

I would’ve loved to sit there all night, teasing him and tormenting him, but we did have to get going.  It’s a long drive from his city to my mom’s, and he would still have to drive all the way back after dropping us off.

So we headed out, and made pretty good time.  We had to sneak a goodnight kiss when my mom wasn’t looking.  I quickly (and reluctantly) unlocked his collar, groped him one last time, then hugged him and told him goodbye, with a promise that I would do brutal, terrible, evil things to him when I get him to myself.

Only a few days to go.

4 thoughts on “Love struck teenagers

  1. candicejune says:

    Where in Tennessee are you?

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