Bitter Sweet
My workday ended at noon on Friday, after which I joined my friend and his friend for a full and gorgeous afternoon sailing. The day was perfect for sailing too. Clear blue sky, the 88 degree temperature tempered perfectly by the kind of afternoon breeze that avid sailors dream of.
I really enjoyed spending time doing something I have missed for many years, and I was blessed to share the experience with a couple of special individuals. My arthritis may have limited my usefulness as crew, but I was able to at least handle the jibsheet on one side or the other as we were tacking (zig zaging into the wind) out of the ship channel into the gulf, and as we maneuvered in the gulf to enjoy and ride the swells.
We started out with some drama when the motor stalled just as we’d cleared the slip while my friend tried to throttle forward. A sudden shudder, an “Oh shit,” sudden movement of men, a little drifting toward other boats docked in the slips behind us, one pull, and the engine was back up. We averted having to “buy the boat” we nearly drifted into and got underway.
I needed some reminders to loop the rope (jibsheets) counter clockwise and keep my hands away from the blocks. I had a flashback and smile-memory, as I twice needed a reminder of clockwise. Well here’s my take, clockwise is a natural right hand task and I don’t care who says what counter clockwise is just natural for a left hand task. It’s true for beating cake batter and it’s true for securing jibsheets to cleats.
The trip out into the gulf was relatively quick even if we did have to lift the keel in a hurry and let the wind take us off the bottom when we got too close to the jetty on one tack. Both men, very experienced sailors each, were surprised that the water was as shallow as it was where we hit ground. I was educated about the Gulf of Mexico tides, sand erosion and poorly maintained jetties by the banter between my sailing mates.
All was well, barely a hiccup of drama and we were back underway in no time. I did have to smile and lean into the soothing and safety of the way two lifelong best friends can bicker one minute and laugh with each other in the next. I made an almost instant bond with my buddy’s best friend in that lovely and perfect long afternoon.
Riding the swells in the gulf was fun even if the up was more up than the downs (except for one really good one.) Literally hundreds of fish were jumping into the air around us, mostly along two demarcations, one east of us, and another west of us, where sea weed trails and subtle color changes in the water were obvious. We saw some surface floating Portuguese man-o-war jelly colonies along with hundreds of living versions of the benign white balloon jellyfish that regularly get stranded on the western gulf beaches every winter.
Once we decided to make the turn around and head back, we had to share the ship channel with first one outgoing ship, and then an incoming ship. It was fun and interesting to be a bystander listening to best friends bicker about how to set and maintain a course so that the ships know “you’re” not messing with them and “know what you’re doing.” The rules of shared water at the very basic level … vessels operated under ‘power’ traveling toward the same point and in proximity must yield course and adjust their speed and direction so that they pass behind vessels under ‘sail’, BUT, big ships who can’t maneuver, own the right of way just like trains do on land. T’was another refresher course. I knew all this stuff once. Now I know it again.
The word f*** was used many times when our captain did things his way instead of my buddy’s way. I just couldn’t help but laugh because by then I knew they were both capable and they were both being almost too protective of me. All the bluster was for show and we all knew it. I appreciated it anyway.
We were supposed to skim all the way back in, but after the second ship passed us, fickle breezes and probably a contrary tide ultimately forced us to pull the sails down and motor back in. It was nice though, because the marginal increase in speed helped blow our sweat dry and keep up the breezy illusion of cool. We were treated to numerous dolphin sightings. I saw a few black “whale” dolphins and lots of jumping fish early in our return, we all saw three bottlenose dolphins frolicking (what almost seemed like wrestling) in the light green – dark green tide margin just before we turned the second last jetty into the marina. My buddy almost turned us around to get a closer look but decided on caution (after a bit of a bicker with his friend.) Apparently neither of my water seasoned mates were sure of how much fuel was left to take us the rest of the way in to our slip in the marina.
I know that both of them teased me through long secret back doors of past experiences and ‘life lessons’ they’d shared. I was the uniquely welcome newcomer in their midst. I really enjoyed the way they played their shared history off of me as both the only women in the group, and someone who shares the kinds of life secrets they do. I also felt and instantly recognized the intimate trust they shared with me so easily.
After a full afternoon of sailing, evening brought us back to the beach condo my buddy’s friend was using. We broke up to shower so we could go out to diner and not fail the stink test. My shower space was off my buddy’s room. He waited for his friend to go into his room then he locked the double doors and decided that while the shower was running next door he had time to warm up my bottom.
I was nervous about being overheard, but obediently let him pull my shorts and panties down and crawled up and over the pillows on his bed. He didn’t care, when I complained, that I was still all sweaty and smelly from sailing. He used his hand and a borrowed hairbrush to administer a particularly ouchie spanking. His hand is quite hard, and he likes to use it hard right out of the blocks. So I wriggled and yeah I giggled right from the start. He took particular glee applying multiple sets of ten to my sit spot with the brush after and preceding more formidable strikes of his hand. It was a short but memorably sound spanking. I got in to the shower smiling and content and then winced when the ‘hottish’ water rinsed over my bottom. “Oh, owie!” I avoided scrubbing so I could leave the owie intact.
Once we all showered, it was dark and we went out for supper. We each ordered the same lightly blackened fish. I went with green beans & coleslaw; both of my mates elected fully loaded baked potato (one with the other without chives) and other veggies. I mostly listened to my mates chat and occasionally bicker about their shared history. T’was fun and informative, but now, knowing what I know about my buddy’s mind set, I understand why I felt like a third wheel the other night.
After we left the restaurant, my buddy decided he had to have ice cream. Neither his friend nor I wanted ice cream or another stop to get it. I can’t have ice cream. I kept my mouth shut wishing that he’d realize my restriction, but nope, ice cream it would be.
We got in the car drove a little bit, then knocked on the locked door of a small kitschy sweets shop. The owner let us in
(even though she was closed) and my mates each ordered their preference of the creamy delight. It wasn’t until I declined to order that my buddy realized that the sugar-laden treat is verboten for me now. He apologized, but still ordered his serving for “eat in” instead of to go. We ended up in there for MORE than an hour and forty minutes. I tried without luck to find a comfortable place to sit and wait (the reed-caned chairs were too high edged and too low cushioned – the circulation to my legs got cut off after barely minutes of trying to sit!) The vinyl-covered chairs were also too high for my feet to comfortably reach the floor. That also caused aching pain to build up in my knees. I’m afraid fatigue and pain took over my mind so that I just zoned out of the conversation. After close to an hour of trying to get comfortable, my buddy entered into a ‘rescue the damsel in distress ‘little business owner’ exchange.’ I began to let my inner wench surface got a bit testy. I kept it to myself (until writing this now.)
I barely contained the gasket that I was getting ready to blow by the end of the hour 40 minute mark when my input about the why and how of her problems (reasonable and probably accurate) had been repeatedly ignored by my male friends. Fortunately we got underway before I got bitchy enough to say more than “OK guys, I’m really tired could we please go.” I hate it when I get cranky, but at least I didn’t misbehave.
Neither of my mates had anything but possibles’ to offer the poor gal (all of which she’d already checked out and exhausted with workmen.) Like typical guys though, they pretended they knew what they were doing and protracted the encounter – checking breakers, chattering about amperage, dirt accumulation, and other such maintenance things. We came away with nothing accomplished but a business card exchange. I hope the kiddo gets a proper fix for her equipment. Gotta love men’s instinct to go for the “fix,” even when a gal is just mentioning something in conversation. “How’s it going?” “Pretty good, just having some annoying trouble with my XXX.” “Really, let me check it out for you.” LOLOLOLOL.
We didn’t go to rest after that though. We went to the condo parking to get a lock for the sailboat’s motor. Then we went back to the marina so the lock could be affixed.
We got back to the condo after midnight. I was dead to the world. Friendly conversations about sailing, carried on from interrupted chats during the day & evening. They went left then right. I could barely keep up even though I wanted to. My buddy was already online for some other purpose. He decided to show me some stuff about a particular ship channel. It took a while to get the online maps to cooperate (he got booted, then it wouldn’t zoom right). By then I was totally limp toast. I was interested but zonked. He said, “you’re just humoring me aren’t you.” I told him something like ‘no Sir, I’m interested but just too tired to be attentive.’ The message got through.
My bed was the huge cushy sofa.
My buddy at first insisted on taking it, giving me his bed or having me share it with him. I snore so sharing wasn’t something I was up for (shyness, ya’ know). He’s got much more severe chronic physical pain than I do. The couch wasn’t a wise option for him if we were going to enjoy Saturday. I took the couch, but it was sometime after 1 AM before the lights went out and any of us cuddled under covers.
I tossed and turned, but eventually Tylenol PM kicked in and I managed to get some sleep. By 7:15 AM when I decided to break the ice and get up to make coffee. Shortly after that my buddy’s friend stirred and got up. He was pleased that I’d made the coffee strong. Our movement and whispers woke our mutual friend and by 7:45 we were all up and deciding on the activities for the day.
After some banter between my two buds got underway, I bulldozed in and offered and was allowed to make breakfast.
My bud took a long shower and then stretched out to watch HSN News while his friend took his mile long run. Almost perfect timing ensued. Scrambled eggs with chunk cheddar cheese were served soft (just past runny). Biscuits were light brown and fluffy. Sausage was hot and drained of fat. Some diced, pan fried cherry tomatoes mixed with the fry pan’s left over essence of egg, sausage juice and a small amount of butter topped off my effort.
Both of my buds said the breakfast was great. I believe them.
I knew they had boat part shopping plans on tap for the day Saturday, and my buddy had already told me outright (on Friday) that he wanted to spend Sunday alone with his friend. After multiple cell phone interruptions, every one of which could have been ignored so we could have all gotten on the same page, I gave up and signed off to go check on and feed my kitties.
I got back to my hotel, over fed my kitties (who I’d left alone overnight) and let my mind whirl about how my last 24 hours panned out. I couldn’t process any linear thoughts, so I put the TV on and fell asleep.
Shortly after noon my buddy called me. They were done shopping, would I like to join them for lunch? They were right near me so I said sure. I was told to pack some overnight supplies and make sure my kitties were set up with over fill this time. I obeyed, hopped into the shower slathered on sunscreen & some loose shorts and an oversized men’s cotton “Bimini Bay” shirt.
We had a terrific lunch in town and then returned to the Beach Condo. Just as we were discussing plans to go out and share the experience of going to a nudist recreation spot, my buddy ran out of steam and succumbed to his desperate need for rest and sleep.
Yes, I went anyway with my buddy’s life long friend. We had an amazingly great time. 1) He was easy to talk to, and he was accepting and honest about what he thought of my buddy’s kinky activities together. He’s the only one who knows about our spanking. He told me he doesn’t understand it, but then he also told me that he doesn’t understand his own nudist impulses either. 2) Everybody at the nudist recreation center was sweet welcoming and so at ease. I’ve never once been to a church group whose membership was as welcoming as the nudist camp members were. 3) I was surprised to find that the place was primarily populated with folks in or older than my age group. I was also surprised that almost all of their fully nude bodies were aging just as mine is. My body (especially with my recent radical weight loss), with all its left over pudges, wrinkles and sags stood out only because I’m not tanned head to toe. Only one 10 (body) was there among the 40 or so people there. Interestingly the little hard body was the only one who self-consciously dressed after getting out of the pool. I kept my shirt on, but did strip my shorts and undies off and let my shirt stay unbuttoned.
I’m amazed and comforted by the experience I had that day. Nobody could have told whether my bottom had been recently spanked or not. Everybody (guys & gals) who used the recliners in the pool area had striped and VERY red bottoms just from sitting on towels that do not cushion the PVC plastic slot chairs A few men had some yellow edged stripes and leathery brown sit spots suggesting their bottoms suffered more than just sitting too long on hard plastic recliners! Some guys & some gals had marks outside sitting lines, but their interactions betrayed nothing more than what they shared with this group.
As I said, I was liberated enough to go with just a hint of bare with just my Bimini Bay blouse on, all buttons open. It fell off my breasts when I moved a few times, but I managed to tug the edges back. Once seated, I lifted and crossed my knees some too so that other parts didn’t get too exposed. The truth is no one was looking and my self-consciousness was unnecessary.
Certainly we were scanned as new comers at 1st. We found seats at the poolside and initially kept each other company, but in no time we were greeted and welcomed by regulars. Some took seats nearby us and struck up easy conversations, and others came closer, offered their hands and invited us to join them for supper (we declined since we had a buddy at home that we needed to collect for supper.) My companion had a lot of history and shared military and living history in common with a few men there, and I found that a few of the women and I had travelled some surprisingly intertwined life and professional paths. In no time I found myself engrossed in conversations and pretty much oblivious to my semi nude/exposed state.
It was enlightening. We really are living just a few “degrees of separation.” I’ll bet that everyday in our life, when we go out and about our lives, we cross paths with folks like us (maybe not exactly sharing the same kinks – but) living secret lives in the relative comfort of having found enough peace to dare live them. I found everyone we met at the nude camp to be genuine, emotionally healthy and more welcoming than any clothed group I’ve ever been invited to visit with or join.
All in all, I can say that in all honesty, the nudist recreation camp was probably one of the most reassuring experiences I’ve had in kinkdom for a long time. The last one was when I met my buddy 20 months ago. He wasn’t annoyed that spankings make me giggle in the midst of the ouch, or that when it really starts to hurt I giggle through the “Owe’s” and “stops.” (Some spankers just find involuntary giggling disrespectful.)
He says he loves my giggle. Many times he’s leaned into my ear and said, “Tehehe! I love it!” I think he likes it as a cue to know he’s not going to far. Even so, he’s told me more than once that I take much harder spankings (and yet keep on giggling) than most video models he’s seen … just maybe I otta consider a visit to Red Hot Videos to visit Greg … betcha he’s got few gigglers taking his 20 dollar tip after a long otk session. LOLOL – “the evil wench patty gets her due.” Wonder what he’d do if someone over his knee yelped, hollered and all through it giggled? LOLOL. Truth is, my buddy and I have had a lot of fun together, he’s diabolical and curious and I’m just me. We have fun.
Besides the fact that we share spanking, and it’s my bottom that takes the licks, he likes that I’m bright even if we argue about work type stuff now and then. Who doesn’t argue now and then? He’s been around the professional block I’m on for many, many years. Often my questions, worries and disclosures accidentally launch advice sessions that become contentious when all I intended was to share an experience. I loose touch with how it started down hill and my original just a question and collegial intent in the heat of things. It happens, it’s normal … LOLOLOL men and their need to fix - women and our inability to recognize it when simple uncomplicated mentions of frustrations or second thoughts are likely to turn in to full fledge “this is how you should/could/better approach it next time…”
I spent almost three hours in the nude recreation camp with my buddy’s life long friend. I missed my buddy even though I didn’t lack for any interaction. When the time came for my new friend/nude companion and I to leave (a severe storm warning was broadcast) both of us laughed. If our buddy had been with us, we’d have been there for hours and hours more. I recalled the kitchy store gal the night before and laughed even more. My new companion knows his friend well and he agreed and laughed when I made the comment that “You know if XXX had been with us we’d have still been there ‘till midnight?” Thing is, as much as he worries about surgical scars and his cute/very average (for his age) pot belly, his body wouldn’t have raised a single eye brow among these folks. Truth be told, we (his friend and I) both knew that he’d have bonded and gotten engaged in chats with everyone. If that had happened we’d all still be there. LOL!
Again it was well after dark before we went for supper. We had marginal Mexican food for supper. My chicken salad with avocado was OK, (probably the best thing on the menu) but neither of my companions liked their grease laden enchilada dinners. The greasy fare didn’t limit their ordering a huge sopapilla plate. It didn’t go the way of the half eaten enchiladas either. The sopapilla plate went down the hatch and left over tortillas sopped up the cinnamon spiced honey. LOLOLOL.
After we finished our marginal supper and my buddy polished off his share of sopapillas, he suggested ice cream again. Neither me, nor his friend answered this time. I did send a wishful “Please no,” out into the universe. We didn’t have ice cream. Instead we drove back to the condo. My wish was granted. I was again exhausted.
Plans had totally changed for my buddy’s hopes for Sunday. Relatives showed up in a different condo Saturday and they called to say “hey.” As it was working out, my buddy lost his alone with ‘my best life long friend time,’ and it was becoming clear that my presence would be “hard to explain.” Originally I was going to go back to my hotel early Sunday AM… It turned out (because of unexpected evens) I’d better go back Saturday night. Feeing a bit ashamed (for being such an unexplainable secret) I willingly agreed that I’d better disappear and hide from any curious relatives who might question who I was and the why of my being there. I’m not sure exactly whom I was hiding from after finding out that it was a nephew and his lover who sort came out of the closet that weekend. LOL! Given that my buddy and I were already out with who we are with his friend, who knows, it could have been a whole-hog day of sensual/sexual disclosures LOLOLOL. Even though I know that I made the wiser choice, I almost wish I could have been there. I know that my presence and voice could have been helpful when the ‘gay’ disclosure/realization/discovery occurred. It wasn’t to be, nor was I invited to make it my place.
Back to Saturday night …
Shortly after ten thirty p.m. my buddy tucked me into his car to go back to my hotel. Honestly, even though I had overnight stuff with me and wanted to make them another breakfast, I welcomed a full night of sleep in a familiar bed instead of another night on a couch. We made it to my hotel after 11 p.m., before we got there my buddy asked me if I’d like to play. I wasn’t sure it was wise. He’d been in so much pain all weekend. I asked him if it was something he could do. He assured me it was.
So, for more than an hour once we got to my hotel, we played with spanking ‘patty.’
First he scooched up and took a very uncharacteristic spot seated against the backboard and told me to get my shorts and panties off and get over his lap. My goodness; another new twist! I know from experience that spankings from this position are diabolically merciless. I had a lot of trouble wiggling once my legs and torso were trapped. I couldn’t help flinching over and over again either. At first my flinches were from real sting and burn, then once my butt got cozy flinching became pure reflex based on stroke placement. Don’t get me wrong not one single swat was not formidable or memorable. I reveled in the whole thing.
I think my weight across his lap began to hurt his left leg after he’d been whupping my butt for close to 40 minutes. I asked if I was hurting him, at first he denied it, then he ordered me to get up on my knees in a very specific position.
First he caned me, then he whupped me with the tawse, and then he stopped spanking and probed. I was wet after having approached climax more than once during the vigorous preceding play. Again I lost it and came quickly but he wouldn’t stop. One, two, three, four, five, six and then I couldn’t take any more. He asked me if I’d ever been tied down and stimulated to orgasm so many times it felt like torture. I truthfully answered no, and he smiled. What a diabolical mind he has…
The long spanking ended, we cuddled for a long time, and I sensed something was hanging between us. I’d felt it before. He had something to say.
We talked through it. He’s not well. As much as he wants to keep spanking me, because of his health and my work schedule we have to back off and so he may become just a once upon a time spanking friend and we both are going to have to let phone and email become our last and best mode of contact. Travel to my neck of the woods has become very painful if not impossible for him, and my assignments virtually never take me to his territory any more. While neither of us has ruled out some future fun together, it was beyond clear that our shared clock was ticking too fast for either of us.
We’ve shared an incredibly special relationship for quite a while. I’m not able or willing to let it go right now. Just as I’d never leave my husband because he faced an illness, I’m not walking away now. Yes I may still have spanking in my future … right now though I have a wonderful and rescuing relationship in my reality and almost no one can grasp how deeply it has meant to me/rescued me/re-empowered me. He needs my loyalty, and I need to give back every ounce of what he has given me. Loyalty, deeply felt love and deeply felt gratitude, that’s where I am right now…
Life is interesting/convoluted and ever so isn’t it unpredictable isn’t it?
I’m lovin’ and beyond bewildered by it … whirl, whirl whirl…
Love patty
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