Fucking Butterflies

So, as I write this I am sitting on a plane on my way to see Thumper. I’m nervous. Not sure why, but I am. I think that so much as settled and changed since our last “encounter” that the horny butterflies in my stomach that were fed on anticipation last time have been replaced by the practical ones that just make me look as forward to seeing him and hugging him hello as the ones that want to fuck him too (as I get closer though, those are flapping their little wings harder and harder!!). That’s a gray area and, I suspect you all have picked up on this vibe by now, but, I don’t do gray well. Now, to clarify, I’m not worried at all, just nervous. And, although I can’t actually, at this point, tell you what the difference is, there clearly is one and my bag of gear that I brought for us to just play with will clearly calm any jitters (cause it is a da,n good 62 pound bag).

I’m also nervous about the piercing tomorrow. It’s funny, I’m not nervous at ALL about the pain or the recovery (okay, just a bit in the recovery) but more so, I think, what this will represent for me and Axel as something about steel through one’s dick seals the deal so to speak. It’s, in many ways, like stepping off the cliff of submission knowing that soon all we have talked about for years and years will be a reality.

However, there are zero second thoughts. It’s funny because I am one who believes in “signs” and the the signs on the wall here are huge. First, a few weeks ago I went back into the Denying Thumper archives to read about his day of piercing, feelings, recovery, etc and realized that his appointment was not only on the same day as mine five or six years ago, but at the same time, and the same place (since, after all, he is taking me). How cool is that? Then, last night I had dinner with one of my favorite friends in the whole world (the one I told you about who knows all of this) and we started talking about things and strolling down the lane of memories. In this case, a bit more than five years ago he was diagnosed with HIV and hit a very low point in his life, so I challenged him to do something out of his element to always prove he’d fight it. Well, that, for him, was getting a tattoo and, somehow, clean cut white collar me agreed to get one too that somewhat matches his to mark his new journey and the fact that I will always be by his side through it. Well, guess what, that was tomorrow too, but at 6pm versus noon, but still. The stars are pointing to my penis and a needle aren’t they in a big, big, freaky fun way.

Finally, I am now also very nervous about my flight attendant as she has hair the height and color of Marge Simpson and I am convinced that should there be an emergency she’d be useless. But, I think I am more appalled at the hair and must go say something. Maybe.

More soon. Maybe even pictures ( of the PA, not me and Thumpie).

dd

Sent from my iPad

3 thoughts on “Fucking Butterflies

  1. Drew, I’m sure you’re ready for the piercing and I have no doubt you’ll come through it just fine. Remember the butterflies, for they are special.

    I can’t wait to hear what was in the box Thumper sent you.

    I wish you a speedy recovery.

    Liked by 1 person

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