I'll be honest, my first thought on seeing the words "suspension fuck" was "oooooh!" Things got quite squirmy and I swear the temperature rose in the room. I floated to bed in a dreamy reverie of future fun.
Then sat bolt upright as a few harsh realities cut through my dreams.
Were they about pain? No.
Were they about danger? No.
Were they about the likelihood of supreme personal embarrassment? Yes.
I love that it doesn't cross his mind that it could be a challenge to hoist the lush tangle of curves that is my body up into the air. And he's very mathematically and quantitatively inclined, so I have no doubt that he has already accurately assesed a lot of statistics about me that I would prefer to keep shoved under the rug. So, the numeric revelation isn't even the primary discomfort.
It's the sheer ungainliness of it all.
I love to go watch Cirque du Soleil. I sit in the dark and pretend that the lithe, sylphlike figure spinning and twisting gracefully through the air is ME.
Reality is about as far from that fantasy as you can possibly get.
I am a klutz and a dweeb. I simply cannot imagine myself achieving this with even a modicum of grace.
Rather, I visualize the scene looking more along the lines of a Dead Horse Ceremony. A whole lot of inelegant and uncontrolled bobbling.
Except without the chanteys.
BUT - it will be what it will be.
I'll just have to grit my teeth and channel my inner aerial artist, I guess.
Or change my name to Bobble Girl ...
(Did I mention these always end with the "horse" being cut from the line, to plummet to a watery grave?)
*gulp*
8 comments:
Could you put some sort of warning at the beginning of the blog to let me know that I'm going to wet myself?
What you should be concerned about is the demise of every pinata ever hoisted....
just saying.
hingho
Ooooh!
Piñata Girl could work, too!
Less dead horsey, more festive...
the fun part is that you don't have to actively try to be graceful - or be anything - it's all his job. So - what kind of stick do you think he will beat the pinata with, and isn't it supposed to be you wearing the blindfold - not him.
I know it's up to him to do everything except the bit where I stand there (hang there?) like a lump. It's that insistent maternal conditioning that's getting in my way. The woman's been dead for nearly 40 years and I STILL hear her voice. (Good at her job, she was!)
Despite the incipient nausea at the thought of being suspended AND blindfolded, I am having fun with a vision of me in some little ruffled piñata-like panties. It helps distract... :-D
Jz,
Woman you crack me up. I am sure you will be nothing like the gangly horses.
Oh but lucky, lucky you. I was teased with the possibility of a suspension fuck, sadly it never took place :(
I shall live vicariously through you. Enjoy!
H-
Trust me.
If it happens, I shall duly report. ;-)
I'm not convinced the layout is right but having seen my pictorial report, he assures me there's a great deal of possibility there, even if we can't do the full horse-piñata thing.
More than one way to bobble a slut, I guess!
You not only have an exciting adventure ahead of you, but your take on it is truly original and entertaining. Good luck and take lots of pictures. Make sure you use a fast speed film so we can get a good look at the splash.
DT-
I'm going for the speed that will render it all a blur, thank you very much!
Glad you can laugh at my pain, tho'.
(wretched man)
;-p
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