The First Parts

This is an experiment in endurance. To see if my best friend and I can keep a blog going for more than a week. Wish us luck, because if this is successful it has a great chance of being highly humorous and possibly even prophetic (someone cue the spooky, mysterious music). Alright kids, deep breath, here it goes.

In recent days I have been locked in a moral dilemma. In order to explain – we have to go back roughly a month to when I broke up with my most recent girlfriend. Who I dated for only two short months. The reason behind this short lived romance is mostly because of the fact that I had sworn off monogamy due to the sticky taste in my mouth it tends to leave. I am the epitome of all I ever wanted to be: a 25 year old, alcoholic, non-monogamous, lesbian. Whoop-di-fuckin’-doo.

Enter the second character in our story, who we will call ‘Ms.Y’ for the sake of privacy. Ms.Y and I have been dating on and off since roughly March of this year. She is aware of my status as a non-monogamist and accepts it. I have had a few partners while she and I have been dating. It has never bothered her. Until last Friday. Ms.Y invited me to our mutual friends birthday party at a local gay club called The Cuff. The Cuff is part country-line-dancing-cowboy-fags and part leather community. The point I’m trying to prove here, is that it’s not really my scene. I showed up waring flip-flops so to ensure that no one would make me do any dancing. Regardless of the terrible music, and social anxiety that courses through my veins, I was having a pretty good time. I sat with my captain n’ coke in hand watching the leather daddies and cowboy fags getting their proverbial freak on. Ms.Y pointed out people in the crowd and filled me in on any sordid drama they may have been involved in. Each in turn introduced themselves to me, and had a brief conversation. Usually consisting of:

“Hi, my name is ______. How do you know the birthday girl?”

“Well, my name is ______ and we met at the ______.”

One person in the mix was, unbeknownst to me, the reigning international miss leather. Who took it upon herself to drag me around the bar by the wrist introducing me to everyone in the local leather scene. Amused as I was, I went along with it. Standing near the back of the bar, she introduced me to a gentleman who seemed to be making fetish gear he was clad in leather vest, leather chaps, a leather hat, a leather… well, you get the idea. I introduced myself because it’s the polite thing to do. At this point both Ms.Y and the birthday girl had caught up to me and were giggling maniacally. It was at this point the night took a turn for the weird. The guy making all the fetish gear asked me to ‘model’ some things for him. I didn’t get a chance to answer before I was volunteered by Ms.Y and friends. The modeling began with leather wrist cuffs and a collar, and continued with a strap that connected the two behind my back, and a leash which was ever so generously put in the hands of Ms.Y and the birthday girl, who at this point I will call ‘Ms.X’.

The two of them began teasing me relentlessly. I think I was blushing from the tip of my fauxhawk to the tips of my flip-flop clad toes. Ms.Y would yank me down by the collar, while Ms.X would place her hands on my hips and begin pressing herself against me suggestively. At some point the leash got passed to Ms.X, and Ms.Y disappeared. Ms.X took this as an opportunity to begin running her fingers along my cheek and placing her mouth centimeters from my own (I don’t think blushing is even the proper word to express what I was doing at this point, it doesn’t seem intense enough). After 15-20 minutes of this merciless provocation Ms.Y re-emerged from the crowd. With cash. The next few moments of this evening are a blur, all I can remember is Ms.Y saying, “I just bought everything you are waring, you should come with me now.” followed by laughter from the small but attentive crowd that surrounded us.

We left the club – Yes, by the way, I’m still waring all of the fetish gear. Ms.Y decides she wants to parade me all over Capitol Hill in her newly purchased garments. As much as she would like to come Ms.X has a camping trip in the morning and has to leave the two of us in order to be rested. She teases me a last parting time and takes her leave. As I am being tugged down the sidewalk it occurs to me, that I may have in the duration of the evening developed a little crush on Ms.X. Which poses this problem: If I am not in a monogamous relationship – or a relationship at all with , Ms.Y and I want to get with Ms.X what’s stopping me? The answer is: their friendship. I would feel like a total douche-nozzle for ruining their friendship. So I suck it up, and keep my head down (literally, as it still has a collar around it). Until Sunday night. To be continued. (DUN DUN DUUUUUUN).

-Cole