 
Balletlover - Balletmania
written by Vic at on 03.05. at 14:11:13 - as answer to: Depon Who? by Mops Hacker at >>>>Yes, it's me. Married, happy, and with a new handle. Decided to enter a new phase of my literary life in tights, with a new nom de guerre to match. I could tell you all the cool things that have resulted from my nuptial state, but I'll start with two: First, I am now the official tights and dancewear buyer for the couple. One evening Dea was complaining about her lack of legwear, and how hard it is to get good tights in department stores. I said: "Give me a budget." By the by, I'm pretty much exclusively buying dance tights and the occasional pair of Target tights (they don't last, but they're nice for the price. I still love We Love Colors, but their dye don't wash well!) >>>>Ready for the second one? You will find it hard to believe, but I assure you it's the troof: Last St. Patty's day I found myself having many pints with Dea and her daughter (now in her mid-twenties.) As the Guinness flowed, so didst the conversation. Dea's daughter (let's call her Lea,) nervously admitted to currently being in a serious relationship with a gender-neutral person (biologically a woman, but living as a man. A man with a really brilliant and pretty partner, I might add!) She starts talking about how she and her friends are into challenging restrictions caused by rigid gender roles, and says that she's telling us this because she's sure we would understand. I start chiming in with some general agreement and encouragement, and I find the girl is both relieved by my point of view, and surprised at my passion for the subject. >>>>There's a lull in the conversation, and I look over at Dea. She smiles and nods. And I tell Lea...everything. Everything that the Guinness is letting me remember. I tell her that she's the first person I've ever told this to who wasn't online or a long-term galpal, and she says that she's honored. So we spend about an hour having an honest discussion about our respective sex lives. I naturally avoid any stories about me and her Mom, keeping my tales to those from my early life and first sexual experiences, and we come to an agreement. I won't breathe a word of her current situation (her dad would NOT get this,) and she'll keep my secret better than an ex. We get back home (we spent SPD in San Francisco, visiting Dea's brother,) and two days later, Lea comes over for a visit, and I ask Dea to hand me my pants. She asks "Why?" and I suddenly realize what she means. So I just put a long sweatshirt over my purple WLCs. And the first thing Lea does is tell me that I look pretty good in tights. This was even better than the time we all found out who smokes dope, and who doesn't. Not having to blow your exhaust through a dryer sheet is one thing. Your stepdaughter complimenting you on your legwear is quite another...-Mops >PS: Caught me, Bella!>PPS: I can also close the case of whether Lea saw me in my Angies (Do I call 'em "Bellas" now?) She didn't, but she had noticed how often I offer her mom a foot massage!>PPPS: A few weeks ago I was enjoying a (rare) successful dancecam session, and kept the thing up when class was over. Three girls were sitting close to the cam, and one girl was pointing at it and grinning to the other two. The fool thing froze up on me after about a minute, but not before the three of them, obviously amused, blew kisses and posed, (provocatively enough that I was sure that the first girl was telling them about guys like us.) ....>>>>>>>>>Hey! Good to know you are doing well & haven't fallen off the face of the earth! Sounds like you had quite the St. Pats Day indeed. Funny how free flowing pints results in free flowing information! In my case, I think opening up like that to my stepson (who I'm close to and think the world of) would require enough alcohol to kill me 3 times over! Not that I feel the urge or wish to do so. I'm very inhibited about talks with a family member concerning physical intmacy, and I'm OK with that. Of course, Marie knows this, and sometimes delights in tormenting me with dropping a few innocuous hints to other people when I'm around, knowing it's making me squirm. Deep down, I know she'd never say anything to truly embarass me, but I can't control the instinctive tension. Sort of like being high up on a cliff. You can be 10 feet from the edge, safe as can be, but there's still that bit of anxiety.I've had no good erotic tales to relate for a while. "Real life" (work, money needs, etc.) is taking a heavy toll on me of late, and pretty much tamping down my time and energy for play. "Sigh". Depressing.Anyhow, glad to hear life's treating you well. San Fran would be a great place to spend St. Pats. A brother of mine lives there, and I've always loved it when I've visited.Glad you're back, dude! Later!- VicPS- You sure you want to ditch the "Depon" handle? It's a classic! Look what happened with "New Coke"! Answers to this message: |
