Wednesday, June 08, 2005

Monk Slept Here

Now all along the road trip we have raved about our hosts. The hospitality and generosity of folks who are pretty much strangers was amazing.
The one host we have yet to tell you about was our last night’s host in Wisconsin. An honest to god, farmer’s daughter (complete with bright red barn). She fed us homemade ice cream and even baked us scones in the morning. Griffin did a fantastic job in his blog talking about the events of the night, so I thought we would do something a bit different here.

Rather than me re-telling the evening I asked our host, Echo (Griffin refers to her as “C” in his blog), to tell you all what it was like to host us for an evening. This is what she had to say about the night.

When I sit down at my kitchen table in the morning, while I'm waiting for the water to boil for my first cup of coffee, I don't like to think. That is why I usually read the Wall Street Journal. However, since Monk and Griffin left the wsj stays wrapped in it's clear plastic only to watch as I, chin resting on upturned palm, daydream well into the whistle of the kettle.

These boys are charming… and smooth. One minute we were all eating ice cream and the next my wrists were being bound. I said I liked the idea of a corset. All of a sudden I was cinched from breasts to hips, with just the right amount of that soft rope running from between my legs to Monk's powerful hands. Being pulled toward someone, while resisting just enough to have the rope you're tied in glide across your clit, is hot.

It may have been that slight resistance which got me into trouble. The next thing I know Monk had me on my belly on the floor with my hair pulled back, connected in some way to my big toe. Everything pleasant and fun until the sadistic boy wonder then tickled my foot causing me to yank MY OWN HAIR as I tried in vain to get my foot away from him. I would've been pissed off but I was laughing too much. Sick. Fucker.

I'm not sure the amount of time I've spent masturbating since Monk and Griffin left is legal, let alone advisable. They say they love their jobs because with every piece of rope they send out it's as if they're sending orgasms to somebody. Thanks guys. I got mine.