Both Sir and I were exhausted after all the fun of the PupSocial, so we headed back to the hotel to strip the pup of his rubber and shower him down - and then fell into bed for a wonderful snuggle.
I've said it before, but it's true: those moments wrapped warm and safe in my Man's arms are some of the best moments of any play-date - and the sleep I have, knowing He is there, surrounding and protecting me, some of the deepest and most satisfying I have anytime...
We woke after a few hours, then had to dress quickly and head out - ready to meet Neil and friends for a night of culture. We didn't really have time to eat, so grabbed some chips, hopped a taxi - and then ate in glorious out-of-the-bag decadence, sitting on a wall beside the canal - introducing Neil to the culinary delights of deep-fried battered mushrooms in the process...
We had been booked to see 'The Judas Kiss' at the Crescent Theater. The play was incredibly moving and explored Oscar Wilde's disastrous relationship with the unbelievably selfish Bosie (Lord Alfred Douglas) in two scenes: at the Cadogan Hotel whilst Oscar waits to be arrested, and two years after his incarceration, shamed, broken and penniless in a rat infested hotel in Naples. Seeing the shame and horror of the Victorian world at 'the love that dare not speak its name' seemed especially poignant, given the context of the rest of our weekend, and the Pride I feel in publicly being who I am - and yet it also made me think of all the places and cultures that still exist in the world today who seek to humiliate, outlaw and silence our love, our culture and our very existence.
Everyone was quite talkative about the play (and especially the very sweet actor who played Robbie) on our walk back through Brindley place, the Gas-street basin and on to the Gay quarter - but they still managed to talk themselves into another night of Skinhead chasing at the Boltz club, whilst my Man and I retired back to the hotel for a nuzzle, a snuggle, and a catch up with our sleep...
Sunday began - as all puppy-mornings do - with a great deal of sleepy puppy tail-wagging, a very wet licky tongue, a hungry welcoming throat, and a very happy puppy getting a well earned shot of protein - and then leaping out of bed to get my Man a reconstituting tea and biscuits...
We had no real plans for the day, so dressed and headed down into the city - ending up at the Canalside Cafe in the Gas street basin, for a breakfast watching the narrowboats bobbing at their moorings as various boat-tours came and went with happy tourists waving as they passed. A canal-boat tour seemed a very good idea, so we strolled along to have a look at the ICC (and a sneaky peak into the Symphony hall) and then joined a couple of German gents to hop the next boat for a very pleasant chug along the canals and Birmingham's rich industrial history (the fact that the helmsman was a rather cute, curly-headed blond in some rather fetching work-jeans didn't do any harm either...).
We were a little chilly by the end of our tour, so we headed back through the ICC and out into Millennium square: there to be welcomed by a skating rink full of people, and the edges of a German Christmas Market so stuffed with crowds that they had had to instigate a one-way system at one point. It was rather fun though - as were the roasted chestnuts and Belgian hot chocolate that we bought; just to warm our hands, you understand...
We wandered for a good hour, then finally met up with a great bunch of guys from Boltz at a huge Weihnachtspyramide-topped Bieerkeller stand - including the boot-mad Nicholas (who we had met before in Berlin, but it took me half a conversation to recognise - and then make everyone laugh by apologising with the universal 'What would I know: I'm a dog!' ). Neil was also there, despite having called off on meeting us for high-tea as he needed to catch a 3:30pm train back to Cardiff - saying he had been lured to stay longer by the very sweet Kevin, and his promise of a 20% discount on a new pair of made-to-measure Wescos. At least, that was the excuse - I'm not sure it wasn't Kevin's moustaches that sweetened the deal - it certainly would have been were it me...
We chatted to everyone for a while, but my Man was getting tired, so they offered to walk us back to the hotel. Even so, there was a great deal of milling outside of Tescos, a little bit of beard-cruising, and a fair consumption of tiny pancakes until we finally made our way back to the gay quarter - were we made our farewells, and agreed to meet later in the evening for supper.
Sir and I headed back to our hotel for a much needed snuggle and 'Disco nap' before the rest of the night's entertainment - then it was into our chaps and boilersuits for a walk into the Gay Village, there to wait - hassled by amorous drunks - whilst we waited for the boys. It was a rather longer - and colder - wait than we'd arranged, but we finally got everyone together for a fantastic noodle supper at MinMin - (even if the waitress did make my man laugh by asking 'Are you on a boys night out?' - 'Honey' He said 'I've not been called a boy in a VERY long time!')
Feeling contentedly fed (but not 'too full to fuck'), it was then on to Boltz - which was much quieter than the previous night. We bumped into one of Sir's friends for a brief chat on our way in, but then my Man dragged me off into the Bullring for a little fun.
Sir chose to start our play in the 'Motorbike room': ordering me to strip down out of my boilersuit, then drawing me over beside the bike and the down onto my knees before Him - my tongue eager to work His cock from the tight confines of His leather jock-strap so that I could worship and pleasure Him - pulling Him down into my throat and into my soul. I was utterly lost in devotion, but still aware of the guys who gathered to watch and give awed encouragement to my dedication - feeding off their arousal and using it to power even greater attempts to please and honour my Man.
Sir stopped me before I could bring Him to climax though - preferring to save that gift for one of the other rooms where we might have more privacy. Both sling-rooms were busy - and Sir had no condoms with Him so we couldn't get very active in the sling anyway; Sir finally led me into the Worship room, there to sit enthroned with the pup at His feet, greedily working away like some God-awed acolyte - before putting the pup down onto his back in the cage so He could get right down into my throat and TAKE His pleasure as long and deep as He wished - before having me kneel and take His holy seed upon my tongue in blessed sacrament (then greedily suck the last beautiful drops whilst Sir squeezed them out from the very base of His meat with His hands...)
Sated and bonded, we headed back out into the bar - and caught up with Andy to chat about how much fun the Social had been, and his plans for future PupSocial events on a bi-monthly basis.
It was a great end to the day - and we finally managed to drag ourselves away around midnight with lots of hugs and beard rubs all round.
Sunday morning found us slow to wake - horny and hungry but not wanting to get up. Several days of having my hole plugged had made me so ready and eager for my Man - and I confess to being very wriggly and whimpery in my desire to be fucked (even flipping myself onto my back with my legs in the air with my hole twitching a morse-like 'Fuck me now - PLEASE!') - but Sir was very strong and told me 'NO, pup! - I don't want to start something we won't have time to finish...'
So instead it was into a cold shower, then packing and check-out in record time - and then heading out onto the road home.
We often take the A roads for a more scenic route home - so Sir took us out of Birmingham through the Asian markets and hookah shops of Solihul, and then on through the winding country roads of Warwickshire and Oxford.
We skipped breakfast, but found a wonderul little Farm shop and tea room at Lime farm, Farthinghoe - where we stopped for Hommity pie and a pet of their goats, rabbits and pigs - then headed on through Banbury and Hoxton (the pup frantically writing notes for the blog on a notepad on his knee) - and a surprise little visit to my Alma Mater's originating location at Heythrop Park before finally turning for home and our farewells for another few weeks.
Thank you Sir - it was a wonderful weekend,and much needed. I Love my Man - balls to bone!