I went to my second RopeShare Sunday. The outing was supposed to be a date with Crush Girl, but her dog ate a huge hunk of cheese and she was worried he was headed for an Orkney Extra Sharp overdose. So I went stag.
The class was taught by Master Mike and Tyutumi at Glint. I love Glint. It feels like a haven of hard edged magic. This class was all guys and one very hot transgendered rope student. We learned two column ties, one column ties, and a basic harness, which without another class I will never be able to replicate.
Rope is so much about the rope. I found myself lost in the texture of my new Twisted Monk hemp. "Cinch with gusto", Master Mike told us beginners and I did. I joyously finished my harness with a looping handle that traveled up my rope buddy's back. I see the allure of the rope top. But in the end, it's all about the rope for me. I don't connect to top sex. I'm all about the bottoming. I need to take a yoga class...
I missed Crush Girl. I wanted to come away from class with a friend to practice with and instead I watched the Jets blow the playoffs while I did solo ties on my ankles and thigh. She called later to ask me to dinner if her dog was better, but he was belching Bree. So I ate take out and wrote about longing for a playmate. It'll happen. Meanwhile, I'm out there, making new friends and putting myself where I think I'll feel uncomfortable, but end up feeling at home.
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