Saturday, 07/24/2010 - 11:22 p.m.
The Boy got here last Friday and DC was at his girlfriend's. We did the Melting Pot thing (fabulous!), and we discussed my having sex with Nigel. The Boy said he was OK with the rules DC already laid down (oral, vaginal, and butt sex with condoms, oral sex only without condoms once Nigel's blood tests came back clean) and reminded me of the 1 unbreakable BDSM rule for when I bottom to someone else. I invited Nigel down to meet the Boy and he agreed to come down on Saturday afternoon.
Bright and early Saturday, we all got the call that DC's mama had asked specifically for him (finally!) and I got DC booked on a 6:45 pm flight. Nigel arrived about 4 pm or so and all 4 of us got in the car to go to the airport. The plan was to drop DC off and then the 3 of us would go eat so the Boy and Nigel could at least chit-chat a little. DC's flight was delayed until 7:45, so the 4 of us went to eat. We did Japanese hibachi and it was divine. Nigel's not a foodie, and DC is not much of one, but the Boy and I sucked ours down like someone was going to take it away from us. We dropped DC off at the airport, only for him to find his flight has been canceled completely. We go back to the airport to get him and the airline that rhymes with Shoe Mess Fairways agrees to get him on the first flight out on Sunday morning. It's about 9 pm at this point and we have to be back on the road to the airport at 4 am. DC goes to bed, Nigel drives back to Podunk, I eat Nigel's hibachi leftovers.
We get to the airport about 4:30 am Sunday morning, drop DC off again, and the Boy and I go home and back to bed. My phone rings about 8:30 am and I go back to the airport since this flight has also been canceled. Shoe Mess Fairways dumped all those passengers on Delta and DC's new flight leaves at 1:45 pm. I get him back to the airport and they do indeed shoehorn him into that overbooked flight. His aunt and uncle picked him up and they went straight to the hospital. The Boy left about 4 or so and I puttered around here, doing laundry, paying bills online, packing my suitcase, getting ready to hop a plane at a moment's notice. When I talked to DC that night, he wished me an early happy birthday and asked what he could do from his end for my birthday.
Here's where the rest of the world won't understand.
I asked him if he was OK with me inviting Nigel down - specifically to deflower him on my birthday. DC said, "Good idea! Fuck his brains out!" so I ran with it. Death makes us horny at my house...what can I say. So I called Nigel and he came down on Monday, after his doctor's visit to get blood drawn for an STD panel.
Monday was my birthday and I went nuts buying condoms. Heh. I got my nails done, my feet pedicured, did my roots myself, and bought condoms. And shook because I was so nervous. Nigel got here about 3 or so and helped me change the sheets and we went over the "do and don't" sex list. And then the sex. Jesus Gawd. The virgin can fuck. He didn't want his first time to be any kind of BDSM sex so we stayed away from bondage and biting and tried to stay away from hairpulling but that didn't work. We had to nap afterward because we were so tired.
Tuesday - not so much. We tried a couple of times and I finally just had to say "Get off me, dude, this ain't workin'". So we went to the grocery store and ran errands and just enjoyed each other's company. We can laugh and be silly with the best of them.
Wednesday - DC's mother was moved to hospice care and wasn't that a nightmare. No one could ride in the ambulance with her except the paramedics and while she took it well, DC was a basketcase. The timeline the hospice doctor gave us was 2 to 4 days, which really ramped up DC's anxiety. His anxiety didn't stop him from asking for a sex report, though, bless his pervert heart. I told him Tuesday was a dismal failure, but today made up for it. We played that old favorite, damsel in distress, with Nigel as Penelope. Heh.
Thursday - DC's mother is unconscious around the clock now, due to all the morphine and Ativan. It hurts for her to take a breath, to shift in the bed, to basically move at all. DC has been eating, sleeping, and showering at the hospice so he can stay with her full time. I ran Nigel all over hell's half-acre, getting decorations for the bridal shower on Sunday. We also had some massive freaky sex, complete with tied-up titties and clothespins. Mr. Fluffy-bunny-virgin-quiet-guy is a sick monkey. He went home super-late, despite my asking him to stay one more day. He and I had the talk about how easy it would be to slide into the "just stay one more day and then one more day becomes a whole week before you know it" trap so he left before I did something disgraceful, like beg.
Friday - I went to DC's work bright and early to clean out his office because he *insisted* on Thursday night that it had to be done right now. I was going to do it on Monday since I had more to do for the bridal shower but I didn't argue. His supervisor told me in no uncertain terms that if DC wanted to come back to work for them full-time they'll take him and be glad to have him. I got home from that about 3 pm or so, baked and sweaty from the heat and just broke down. Shakes, tears, nausea, fatigue, the works. Some of it was crashing from Nigel's visit, some of it was the ungodly heat, but most of it was the damned limbo. Waiting for the phone to ring, not being able to plan anything more than a day in advance, missing DC like crazy, not being able to do a fucking thing for him. I took a cool shower and laid down with Grease and Grease 2 and hoped for a solid night's sleep.
Which brings me up to today. If I throw up one more time, I'm going to hurt someone. Even though I know there's no way I can be preggers, I'm still a little concerned. Stress can make me nauseated and barfy, for sure, but I got one whiff of the dry cat food as I was pouring it and that set me off. I got a whiff of my Chinese food leftovers as I was nuking them and that set me off. So then I thought "Hey, cornflakes are pretty bland, right?" - yeah. I took a sniff of the bag and gagged. Smells seem to be the trigger and I don't think stress is entirely the culprit. So I've been alternately napping and puking. I have all of what I'm supposed to have for the shower decoration-wise but I have no gift. That was the one task I had to do today and I still couldn't get it done. I did manage a really hot bath that felt fabulous and got squeaky clean, only to throw up again. Scooping the cat litter is going to be an adventure. Oh, and Nigel's bloodwork came back negative across the board, so yay there.
It's been a mixed blessing week, lemme tell ya.
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