In her Sunday post, Sin cheekily proposed a Halloween get together for her little circle of kinky bloggers and their significant others in perviness. And the thought of putting faces and body parts to cyber-noms is certainly intriguing.
Maybe we could even get our Western Correspondent and his mysterious wife B to tag along. And bring their collection of paddles.
But what got me flashing back was Sin’s proposal that Tennessee would be a good mid-way point for such a meet up. It so happens that a lovely B & B in the Smokies was the scene of Mick and Molly’s first extended Bondage caper, way back in the summer of 1988.
Let me set the stage.
It was just a few months since Molly had called Mick’s bluff.
“You’ve been flirting with me for months. Are you ever going to do something about it?” was the thrust of her message to me.
We were both married to other folks. Nice folks, actually. But we were thrown together by the vagaries of politics. And once thrown together, we just …. Stuck.
And yes, folks, it was Mike Dukakis’s Presidential campaign that brought us together. ( I can hear you laughing!)
When was the last time you thought of Mike Dukakis in the context of hot, illicit, I know I shouldn’t even think about this but can’t help myself, sex?
Molly had just turned 26. Which seems even worse now, since I have two older daughters.
I was a mature, full head of haired 38. I still feel like a cradle robber. Though it still feels SOOOO good.
Somehow we were allowed by spouses to go solo to the Democratic Convention that summer in Atlanta. And, well, over that week we seemed to spend the bulk of our time in bed.
I just remember lots of rumpled, damp sheets, very little sleep, Jesse Jackson ranting endlessly about rainbows, shaking JFK, Jr. ‘s hand, and Neil Diamond singing that song about “Coming to America” as the (lets say it all together now) “proud son of Greek Immigrants” took the stage.
But on the way back, somehow, we arranged two nights in this lovely Inn in the Smokies called the Buckhorn Lodge. ( Thank God those were the days without cell phones or GPS devices, allowing us to make our selves very, very scarce.)
Anyway, we were able to rent this house buried in the forest. And Mick had brought his little bag of tricks along, filled with various lengths of rope.
Those were the days before we discovered the wisdom of putting Molly in charge. So she found herself bound to our bed that first night, at my mercy, and more than well fucked before the sun came up.
And I recall our hike, when, even deeper in the woods, I pulled her off the trial, bound her to a tree, and used a whippy tree branch as a switch to illustrate her bottom with a lovely rosy pattern, before using fingers and mouth to force an orgasm or two from her.
What a shame there were no digital cameras in the ‘80’s. Those would have been shots I would not want have taken to the local drug store for processing.
So if Sin and her Dom ever need a convenient place to come together, and to invite the rest of us along for the show, here is a link to the scene of those crimes.
http://www.buckhorninn.com/cottages.htm
Fortunately, the statute of limitations has expired for us.
