the life and musings of a kinky slut

Ask For What You Want

“For some people, you can’t be subtle.”

It had been a long day. But, thankfully, it was also a uniquely cool Monday for June. We’d worked from noon to 7pm sorting equipment, boxes, and all manner of fun items for setup of the camp ground for Dark Odyssey: Fusion.

Now, though, it was time for dinner. I sat around a plastic table with plastic chairs eating fried chicken and listening to stories from veteran staff members. I was surprised at my luck for the seating arrangement: PyroSadist to my left and SirRonC to my right. It felt like I was the spoiled center of a hot guy sandwich.

As my fellow staff members chatted, I sat and listened intently. I love hearing tales of other people’s kinky adventures, as well as all the tidbits you never read about in the event packet.

As the mostly male members of my table chatted, an interesting topic camp up. One gentleman spoke about how Pendragon couldn’t tell when a particular girl was hitting on him for about forty-five minutes. The gentleman, thankfully, caught her before she left, explained the situation, and Pendragon and the girl eventually had fun.

Pyro then piped up, saying he suffered the same fate. I made a mental note of his comment, seeing as my leg had brushed up against his during our dinner a few times, yet he didn’t seem to notice.

As things began winding down, with talk of people drinking and hanging out for the evening, Pyro politely took my plate for me. Good sign, I thought.

Before he slipped away too far, I got up from my chair and talked to him away from the group. Even as I spoke, even as I made myself ask for what I wanted, I couldn’t believe the words came from my mouth. And even now, I can’t believe I was so bold.

“Pyro, earlier you said you needed to be hit over the head, right?”
“So, sex tonight?” He smiled and kissed me.
“Mess around?”
“Okay.” He smiled and kissed me again.

We agreed we both needed some time to rest and shower. Everyone was sweaty from our laborious day.

So, an hour and a half later, I donned my blue H&M sundress, my new purple flats, charged my flashlight, and made my way over to Sadists’ Lair.

Categorised as: Fusion | PyroSadist

Comments are disabled on this post

Comments are closed.