“Is there anything else you could use to wet the cigar?”
“Why yes, there is.”
It had been on my mind for quite some time. Would I? Could I? Should I?
I’d even thought of a fun name, spunky and cute, yah know like me.
But then came the nerves. The self doubt.
I’ll just be a student today; I don’t need to present. I’ll learn so much from all the people here; my voice isn’t needed.
But when the white board still had open spots, when the opportunity flashed itself in front of me, I couldn’t just let it go.
Still, there was the logistical problem.
“Gray, should I put up a class?”
“It’s cigar play.”
“Make it a discussion.”
I quickly got up, got a piece of paper from Lqqkout, hastily scribbled down Cigar Play – poeticdesires, and added my passion to the board. (So much for the spunky name.)
After some rearranging, I was slated for 4:30pm in section 6 of the main room. Before flitting off to demo bottom for my first class, my friend Scotty approached.
“I’ll help you with the cigar play class.”
And then the moment came.
Funny enough, for the previous class session, I attended Inretrepida’s Can You Tie Your Shoes? Great, Let’s Have A Rope Scene in the same section of the ballroom where I would be teaching. Slut took pleasure in tying me up, pulling my hair, beating me, and sucking on my nipples. Quite a great way to warm up for my class.
As people cycled in and out of the rooms, I set my stuff to the side and pulled up a chair. Scotty also arrived and pulled up a seat.
“Oh, the chair I got was for you.”
I put my chair to the side. He sat in his seat while I took my place on the floor. We began.
Cigar play is the one kink I exclusively bottom to, so with Scotty there, I felt the discussion would be complete. He would give the top’s perspective and I would speak for the bottoms.
I introduced myself, as did Scotty, and then I started talking about my passion. I spoke about smoke, heat, and ash. I discussed safety hazards and tips for cigar bottoms. I went over three catergories of play: ritual, service, and submission.
And, of course, a few of my friends were in attendance, namely Gray & TwistedView. I’m not sure if they were hecklers or shills.
For their enjoyment, and the others in the class, I demonstrated how to wet the end of a cigar.
“Is there anything else you could use to wet the cigar?” Gray asked.
“Why yes, there is.”
I mentioned how I could’ve used my pussy juices, but Scotty and I are not fluid bonded. There was also the suggestion of blood. And semen. This section was an interesting turn in our conversation.
As our time ran out, and everyone had to depart, I of course pimped an event that evening, Cigars, Boots, and Chocolate. It felt like I was giving people homework, but more fun. Hmm… maybe it was more like extra credit.
People dispersed. I flitted off to another class.
But, for a shiny thirty minutes, I got to speak about my passion. I sat in front of a group of people and talked to them about a subject I knew and loved.
For once, instead of being the Teacher’s Pet, I was the presenter.
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