Uncommon Curiosity

This Sunday was Folsom Fair in San Francisco.  I packed my bags and headed over to Arron’s house, where I changed into my naughty schoolgirl outfit – sadly forgetting to take a picture of myself – while he looked through my bag of toys.  As I was pulling on my corset and boots, I heard a stream of happy gasps as he pulled out paddles and cuffs, chains and clamps and tried them out.  We both agreed my outfit (complete with too-short black plaid catholic school skirt) demanded pig tails, so I quickly braided my hair and tied on little red ribbons.   We re-packed my bag and headed out to the Fair.

Driving in San Francisco is never easy, but on Folsom weekend, traffic slows to a stop.  Thankfully, Arron was an excellent navigator, and we found parking in only half an hour – nearly a miracle, given the crowds.  The down side was that the parking we found was blocks from the Fair itself, right at the corner of Market Street – bastion of businessmen and respectable folk – and we spend a good amount of time shielding my somewhat immodest attire from passing families. I had my metal paddle at my waist, Arron had my flogger at his side, and we both had lollies to suck on:

After a bit of encouragement from me, he agreed to hard pack for the day, and came out of the car sporting a deliciously obscene bulge extending down one thigh:

He was even sweet enough to allow me to wrap a collar around his neck and lead him around on a leash, with an njoy pure wand tucked in his belt, just to sweeten the deal.

We attracted a lot of odd looks walking along together, as well as one guy with bloodshot eyes who claimed to be working security for the Fair and regaled us with stories of the women who had kissed and groped him in years past, as he walked along beside us.

Finally we made it to Folsom Street, and the look on Arron’s face was priceless.  More than once it came up that people just don’t do that sort of thing where he grew up – he looked like a very happy kid in the best kind of candy store.  Our first stop was to watch a bunch of men and one poor, nervous woman get manhandled, strung up and flogged at the Kink.com booth,

and then checked out booths selling cuffs, gags, paddles and floggers.  Tucked off to one side of the Fair was a section called “Venus’ Playground” – a play space and demonstration area for female-identified and bodied folks, and we got to watch a demonstration of sharps and wax play that managed to make even me squeamish.  (Ok, fine, I’m totally cool if you want to stick the needles in, but then twisting them around to rip them out through the skin?  BLECH!)

There were a ton of sexy, gorgeous women there, all decked out in their leather finery

Damn, but I love a woman in uniform.

At some point it occurred to me to run the leash down Arron’s belly, over his cock and between his legs, holding it tight behind his back, so that I could yank up sharply just to watch him jump.  Damn, but that was fun – sliding the chain back and forth over his bulge and then yanking suddenly just to feel him respond…and I did it repeatedly, to his obvious enjoyment.

As the afternoon wore on, the crowd got really thick, and we had to push through it to say hi to Mr. Roxy, who was helping a friend who had a leather corset booth.  At one point, we were belly to belly with increasingly cranky and panicky strangers and not able to move anywhere, which led to some very funny conversations when one person suggested we should all have brought lube.  I looked at the naked men surrounding us and remarked to the pretty girl smashed next to me about how sad it was we couldn’t pick the people we were next to and she laughed…which just goes to show that, even in the middle of a near riot, I’m still just trying to get pretty girls to smile for me.

With a bit of difficulty, we managed to make it out to Mr. S, one of my absolute favorite stores in the universe, and I got to show Arron all of the deerskin floggers and puppy play hoods, glass dildos and, of course, the gay fisting videos and massive bondage bed that wonderful store has on display.  Sadly, the time was flying, and we were due at the Citadel to help set up for the party at 4 pm, with specific instructions not to be late.

And, trust me, when a Leather Daddy admonishes you not to be late, or else….you listen.

(Next up:  The Play Party)