The Perfect Match

I might give Mr. Right a little bit of grief from time to time about how he introduced me to the lifestyle. But it just doesn’t seem fair to cuff a vanilla before revealing the whole truth about something as delicate as wanting to swap genitals around. Right? Don’t answer that. I was (mostly) joking about starting this blog to get people on my side. To be clear, I know Mr. Right was not trying to seduce me with his big balls heart and shining head personality so he could trap me in the lifestyle. I’m pretty sure that on our FIRST date I talked about having an awkward hook up with this girl who wanted to get DPed by her boyfriend and this guy Pat who I’d been casually fucking. Only Pat didn’t like the idea of a MMF, so he said he’d only do it if I joined, and I said it all depended on my chemistry with the girl…and it was a whole weird thing I totally forgot about till just now actually. Point is, Mr. Right had good fucking reason to suspect I was open to new experiences.

Anyway, people ALWAYS ask us where we met, how he dropped the LS bomb, and how I reacted. So here is the whole shebang.

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It was early summer of 2015 and I had just turned 29. In attempt to escape life, having sold 90% of my belongings and terminating my lease in the big city, I took a job at a cafe in a remote mountain “town”. I worked 60 hours a week at $6.00/hr with no overtime. $650 was deducted from my checks each month for a tiny shared apartment I rented above the cafe with my incredibly obnoxious, non-seasonal, micro-managing coworker, CJ. Until a few days before, CJ and I had been the only residents of the town, but recently, another person called Spence had fallen victim to employment at the cafe under the false promises he would be living in a quaint, recently remodeled cabin not a mile downstream. As Spence’s start/move in date continued to be postponed, the owner of the cafe convinced him to move into her run down camper that she’d parked next to the dumpster out back.

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Little did Spence know that the water board, who owned the building the cafe was in, as well as his promised cabin, not only did not approve of the camper being parked next to the dumpster, but had already rented “his” cabin to someone else.

I realize this is starting to drag on.

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A few days after Spence moved out back, our trio of false promises decided we ought to get to know one another and go out on the town, the real town, the one full of 7,000 people. So with CJ as the designated driver, we took my truck to the nearest town 25 miles south, and walked into the first bar we saw. Upon entering, I was struck by a bright glare – shining in my eyes from across the bar. Where was it coming from? I held my hand to my face so I could see, and I that’s when I saw him. The sexiest man I had ever seen! And the light appeared to be reflecting off his head! If that wasn’t a sign…

 To this day it still gets me every time.

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Hot damn.

We locked eyes and shared a subtle smile. I stared at him even after he dropped his gaze, until I was told the kitchen was closed and the only sit down restaurant that served food after 9pm was Denny’s. I left with the trio without speaking a word to him, but I knew he would await my return.

This was love at first site… fingerpeople…lust like I’d never felt before.

It turned out to be no ordinary Denny’s. It had a fucking bar. So in pure Yuvonna fashion, I ordered a shot of whiskey. It also turned out a shot of whiskey at this Denny’s was no ordinary shot, but a full 12oz rocks glass. I was three sheets to the wind by the time we finished eating and returned to the first bar where low and behold Mr. Right remained.

We talked and talked, and laughed and laughed. I have no idea about what, I only remember telling myself, “ask him to take you home with him, no you can’t, ask him to take you home with him, no you can’t”. I really only recollected it the next morning when I pulled his business card out of my pocket. But I knew it was special. We went on our first date the next day, and we went on our second date the same day as the first. When we fucked the morning after our 3rd date, I came within seconds. Then I came again, and again, and again. I walked out of my job at the cafe a few days after that, parked my truck with all my earthly belongings in his garage, went to Portland for 8 days, and moved in with him when I got back.

Somewhere around 2 months of knowing each other/living together, we were playing pool in Mr. Right’s basement. I looked at him and said, “what’s wrong with you?”. He paused with a mischievous grin on his face, said something irrelevant, and revealed he liked watching people have sex, and he liked being watched. He mentioned there was a club in the big city you could go to to do this. I was intrigued, but that was it, I otherwise didn’t think twice about it. Christ, I had been fucking a guy off Tinder earlier that year who liked my tongue in his ass more than he liked his cock in my pussy.  

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So on the topic of conversation moved, as did the pool game, my denial trailing behind. In a matter of days he would casually show me Kasidie, and shortly thereafter I would leave for Burning Man. I would come back two weeks later, more curious and open and excited about the LS than ever.

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