In Which Harriet and Carnita Have an Amazing Burn but Incur the Wrath of Zeke and Simon for Naughty Behavior, and Lachlan Returns...Oh Boy Does He.

I am so exhausted that I can barely hold myself up today. Harriet and I returned from Transformus yesterday morning, both of us running on very little of sleep or food or hours of sobriety, and both of us anticipating long, difficult discussions with our partners about our respective decisions to break our agreements about sexual boundaries. We were bad, bad girls...

The whole burn experience was positively magical, as you may know if you have ever attended one, and so it was more than worth the exhaustion and whatever amount of work it takes to navigate the emotional jungles I've created for Simon and me. I actually do feel transformed--like the architecture of my psyche has shifted, my ego has withdrawn its nasty tentacles from the beams, and a couple of doors have been permanently knocked off their hinges, never to shut again. I have an open heart and wide eyes and a song that doesn't seem to want to let go of my hips. I've been dancing instead of walking.

The trouble is that the default world now seems so puny and mired in delusion. It is hard to take some of the problems that have arisen between Simon and me as seriously as he would like me to because I just know that ultimately there are more important things to concern ourselves with. Not just me and him, but our whole fucking species. Our relationship problems seem so petty up against the larger objective of acting to bring on the great consciousness shift so that we can get free. Freedom and simple human connection seem like the most important things to me right now, but I have to suck it up and figure out how to be open and cooperative while Simon vents his frustrations. I also must violate the peace and quiet I have in my mind in order to find ways to articulate what seems to be so whole and real until it gets carved up with words. It all feels quite terrible and stressful and unduly heavy.

I hope that our relationship can survive my recently-developed allergy to heaviness. The lighter I become, the heavier he seems to become. It has the effect of hardening my heart towards him, making my blood pressure rise whenever he comes into a room, and making me rather dread being alone with him. It sounds so terrible to say, but this is my truth lately. Can we make it? Can I reverse this cycle? These questions are haunting me more persistently than I would like. I need to spend some time channelling my guardian. Maybe she will have the wisdom to figure out how to turn things around.

For the record, I realize that I sound terribly selfish right now, but I am also acutely aware of how fucking short life is and how young I am. Moreover, I find the reasoning that would suggest I need to live my life in service of other people's insecurities to be incredibly, crushingly, profoundly unconvincing right now. Know what I mean?

ON TO JOYOUS THINGS!

I didn't intend to sleep with Lachlan before I went to Transformus. Really! I didn't! I had thought to myself, "Self, his desires are just never going to match up enough with yours. You'll just never understand each other quite enough, and furthermore, he probably won't make the effort to do so anyway. Therefore, do not sleep with him. We do not want another Thomas in our lives."

And so I voluntarily agreed to restrict my sexual activity to some loosely-defined "making out" type of thing. Reader, this was a mistake. First, when I made this agreement, I was assuming so much that turned out not to be true. For instance, I had assumed that Lachlan was just too focused on getting in my pants to be interested in communicating with me adequately. I knew I needed reassurance about a few things, like his ability to maintain friendships with current or ex lovers, his comprehension of what I am and am not looking for with him, and his willingness to be as honest about his perspective.

The first night, he didn't have the time or energy for it because he was tending to his lovely sculpture and dancing and trying to find a hookup. I did grab him and kiss him hard, which captivated his attention for a bit, but he was pretty clear about only being interested in going tentward if I was down to fuck. I appreciated the stubborn honesty...I'll try to elaborate more later about Lachlan's peculiar sort of grace which might appear, to the untrained eye, as rudeness. To this girl, his "rudeness" is like a breath of cool, clean air on a swampy day. I have so much respect for him after this weekend. He is not only one of the hottest guys (to my particular taste) in my world; he is honest, super enthusiastically sex-positive, uninhibited, fucking amazing in bed, and just sweet enough to get away with being such a slut. His shamelessness is inspiring.

(Grammar nerd aside: parallelism just disintegrated in the worst way. Apologies.)

Anyway, so the next evening, the night of the big burn, my sexy ginger found me and stayed with me and talked to me for a very long time about what it would and would not mean for us to tangle, whether I could justify "breaking the rules" for him, and what would happen afterwards. With this lovely balance of his, he managed to reassure me completely without once coddling or pandering. He showed that he cared without overstating anything. He seems to be as allergic to lying as I am. Basically, God's gift to sluts! In fact, I told him that I would be happy to write an endorsement for his Sex and Relationships Resume.

I keep getting sidetracked from the story. So I made my decision and tried to send Simon some sort of telepathic love and apology-for-the-sweet-sin-I-am-about-to-commit message. I went back to my camp, got pretty, and went back out to dance and find Lachlan. We negotiated a bit more as we walked towards his tent:


Lachlan:  Just so you know, I am need to come back out later. I have to take care of the sculpture because it could explode if I don't. Plus, my friend has some drugs for me. This will not be bedtime sex.

Me:  That is fine, but I really don't want to be rushed because I have been thinking about getting you naked for a long fucking time. I need to explore you more than an hour's worth. Oh look, it's my friend's car.

(I push him hard up against the car, kiss him deeply, and whisper something dirty in his ear.)

Lachlan:  Okay. Alright. No rush.

When we get to the tent, I eagerly peel off his costume and lay him down. He's sortof talkative in bed, apparently, and he keeps exclaiming little appreciative nothings as I climb all over him, kiss him everywhere, flip him over and massage his back, flip him back over and suck his cock...I was so thrilled to have his body all to myself, to have the freedom to touch him anywhere and any way, that I got totally absorbed in the act of exploring him and trying to make him moan. I was so happy with this arrangement that I had trouble giving up the reins when he flipped me on my back.

But damn, he's great with his hands! For the first time ever, a man finds my G-spot! I have never quite been able to get my hands into the right position to find it myself, so I was beginning to doubt its existence. But Lachlan finds it, and finds it, and finds it again until I am almost screaming, almost can't stand it. Then he pauses to grab a condom, throws my legs over his shoulders, and stuffs his cock in me. It feels huge, which doesn't make any sense because he's no monster. So I realize that he has somehow managed to fit two fingers in me at the same time as his not-insignificant cock so that he can continue to stroke my insides.

Mind-blowing hotness, I tell you. And he is so complimentary and attentive and focused the whole time that when we collapse after some two hours or so, I have to just thank him and kiss the corners of his eyes over and over. My loins hurt so sweetly for the next 48 hours! Hot, hot, hot. I can't praise him enough.

It felt amazing, he took great care of me, and I felt emotionally clear afterwards. So perhaps, reader, you can sympathize somewhat with my decision. I really, really needed what Lachlan gifted to me.  I felt so fortunate to be able to see, live and in motion, what it looks and feels like when two adult friends have mad lust AND serious respect and tenderness for one another. I was also totally inspired by his lack of shame. I want to be more like him when I grow up.

Simon will forgive me. I think he already has, but he still feels the need to verbalize more about it. Like, probably a lot more. But I knew that was what I was signing myself up for when I zipped that tent flap behind me, and I can't possibly regret it even if Simon lays down a "no more Lachlan" rule. By refusing to see me until I speak to Simon, Lachlan himself laid down the law a bit. (He also sent me a text asking that I apologize to Simon for him. Cute, I know, but a little odd.) Boundaries are returning in some capacity from both sides.

Meanwhile, I think that Zeke is pretty upset with Harriet right now. I will be more than happy to try to console him sometime soon. I think I know just the thing...

Ha! I love my life, even though it is a drag sometimes.