It’s Leather Pride Weekend in NYC right now, and damn, the nostalgia is just non-stop. My first Folsom Street East I had just started going out to public events beyond the boundaries of the tight-knit group of friends I was accustomed to. I remember I wore a green dress and a short leather vest, and I felt about seven feet tall. I watched the drag shows with a glee bordering on fascination, and had my boots shined, those pretty leather boots that were lost a few months later, somewhere in an apartment in Brooklyn.
I miss New York. Tonight I tied May’s hands above his head and ran my finger up and down his body, and then up and down his cock. I did it over and over, for almost two hours, and I watched him twist and pull his arms to his face to bite at the tender skin. As I did, I pressed into him. I swung my leg up along his shoulder and put my foot in his palm, and he wove his fingers in and out of my toes as he gasped. And I thought how glad I am to have him with me.
3 Comments
Awww! We wish you guys were here to celebrate with us.
Nice post… would be great to experience the NY scene some time, too…
Take care,
tina from Sweden
The weekend misses you as well
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