had to go home from rocky horror early cause i felt so sick. literally homophobic

The Grind- Chapter 22

Warnings: NSFW. Explicit sexual content. Language.

The deep valleyed cut of his abs smashed to my own femininely toned core as he carried me around his waist in meaningful steps toward what I assumed was his bedroom. I loosened my boa constrictor like clasp around his torso, thinking for a moment I may have a heard him choke for a deep breath before we he kicked open the unlatched wooden door. Once we entered the light gray walls of his private room, he turned blindly and my protruding vertebras rolled on the unforgiving drywall beside his dresser. One palm petted my backside over the stretched latex of my black shorts, while its mate balanced him flat to the wall slightly above my head that was swirling erratically with the rhythm of his mouth.

“I have thought about this every damn day for the last year you wasn’t around, Liv. These legs squeezin’ the fuckin’ life outta me…” Colton looked at me with the same fiery fury he exhibited when entering the cage. 

My shirt discarded somewhere on his kitchen floor, and his now being pulled almost angrily over his head by me, allowed our sweating flesh to mingle into a sinful concoction.

“You sure, baby? I swear to God, I wouldn’t rush you into anything,” he politely contested.

“I’m sure, Colt. So, so sure.”

The three words were his vivid green light. I lightly closed my lids as my eyeballs rolled delightfully into the back of my head when I hit the feathery top of his assumingly expensive king size mattress. Strangely, he chose pulling my probably terribly smelling hair from the confines of an elastic hairband as the first item on his current to-do list. I shook like a wet, freshly bathed retriever, trying to beautify my hopeless locks, wanting to appear as sexy as possible for him in our first bedroom reunion. The last remnants of deodorant after our run, and the “vanilla” solid black bikini panties I wore, already miserably crashing that party, however.

Colton didn’t seem to be bothered one bit though, as his sucked raw, red teeth marks along my ribs, suddenly surprised at his meeting with my own tattoo from our break from each other.

A grazing, splendid finger traced the length of the black, sharpened pencil illustration down the side of my body starting due west of my breast. “It suits you,” he whispered through licked lips. “And you suit me.”

He hiked a hand up my southern cheeks, to duck into the waistband of my bottoms, and I slightly eased my weight from the bed to assist him in sliding them off from the back. My running shorts thrown to the side, left me now shivering in only thin underwear. Colton looped thru the leg holes, then looked to me, and tore the material in half right off my trembling body.

“Hope those didn’t cost ya’ too much, baby.”

A whiny moan of pleasure jumped from my chest when I felt strong, manly hands instantly probing the searing entrance between my thighs. Colton’s left hand massaged woefully slow on the space of my hip subtly, while the right painted careful strokes amid my aching lips.

His own hot breaths matched the temperature of my sex when he brought his nose level to it. “Can I kiss you, baby? Here?”

Unable to fathom any display of appropriate behavior at this point, I nearly yelled a scratchy growl of approval, and pulled him by the cold, damp strands of his hair to the midpoint of my gaping legs. The talented darts of his tongue, and teasing pecks of his lips two familiar feelings I never wanted to live without ever again.

“Colton, yes! Damn it..” I hissed through grinding teeth. He was like craving that could never become fulfilled.

“Open your eyes, Liv. I want you to look at me. Watch me make you come.”  He said through gritted teeth. His directions were stern, and darkly delicious in every way. Leaving me no other choice but to do exactly as commanded.

After what seemed like several unsteady, panting fits, Colton kept to his word, and rendered me with a paralyzing release, punctuated with his own smile of pride and perversion.

“That never gets old. I missed your taste, girl.”

“I need you, baby. Right this minute, please. I need to feel you.”

Did you just…beg? You begged like a detoxing fiend. Let’s try and hold on to a shred of dignity here, Liv.

My hands instantly pawed searchingly for the traps of stone that sat like mountains at the base of his neck as he predatorily crawled atop my still writhing body. They were my favorite place to hold onto as I rode him out like a hurricane wave. In an instant, graceful kisses fell down the crook of my neck, and around lobes of my ears, inhaling me, and I heard his precious admittance of love and longing spew like the Trevi fountain.

“I love you, Livvy baby. I don’t know how I ever let myself live without you. Fuck, I would die right here, and I promise I’d die with a smile.” He voiced hissed like the smooth smoke of a wildfire.

Boy, oh boy was he spreading it thick like smooth, buttery cement. I planted my hand over the sensitive skin where my awarded tattoo rest on his arm, savoring the fact that it, along with every other notion from Colton Ritter, meant that he was mine. The man was explicitly, unforgivingly, unashamedly mine. No matter what conniving demons dwelt within the darkest slums of his very being, he belonged to me, and nothing would change that. He wouldn’t allow it, and neither would I.

As we fused and curled into one thrashing mound of flesh and he pushed inside my walls, a tear rolled from the duct of my eye to soak into the comforter beneath my sticky hair. He filled me emotionally, mentally, and so pleasingly physically. His hands weaved deeply into my mane on both sides of my head, as he sank his lips into the fleshy globes on my chest. Feeling his perfect fingers all over my body like this felt like a cherished return. His body was built to destroy any enemies that may arise, and inflict painful chaos. Yet, here he was hovering over me so tenderly as if my body was fragile, fine china. Delicate touches and warm caressing hands molded against all my edges.

Colt bit over the throbbing pulse of my neck, and his paces increased with the cadency of my heart. He closed his eyes every so often, and I smiled at the way his long lashes shadowed onto his cheeks. White noise overtook the room as our words halted, and only breaths and thrusts made us look alive. I shuddered as he looked downward to inspect the way my slit looked hugging his length in entrance, and exit. The more he grunted, and murmured my name, the more I wanted to milk his own release from him, and if he kept grazing my deep walls in that same treasured spot, that’s exactly what would happen. His member felt like steel, sewed into plush velvet.

“Right there, Colton. I’m almost… mhmmm..”

“I love watching what my cock does to you, baby. You look so fuckin’ perfect when that face gets all blushed and soft after I make you come. Kiss me. ” He told me, but proceeded with the very action himself before giving me the chance.

That “blush” on my face is partially from the downright obscene things you so casually say to me, Colton. This Indiana girl needs a minute to process your boorish slang! But you love it, don’t even deny. You’re a scoundrel now, Elliott.

The chaste brush of a singular kiss ended almost as rapidly as its beginning before those predicable curses of orgasm screamed out of him. “Fuck… fuck! Livvy, your body is so… damn it. Every single… damn it. Fuck.”

Shouldn’t that be offensive? Liiiiiiike, I at least deserve a complete sentence of obscenities, Ritter.

I felt as if every particle of energy I had in me exited through the explosive orgasms he so kindly gifted me in our sexual homecoming. My spirit felt bright like the yellow of a daisy, or the perfect pink of a ripe watermelon. It was a revival of spirts that shocked my heart back to life.  

“Do you just challenge yourself to see how many expletives you can shout during sex?” I snickered, rubbing my hand over the tread marks of sweat rolling down his back over my claw marks.

“What can I say? My girl just brings out the best in me.”      

 I slept at his place that night, the open-house tour at my new apartment would have to wait. Almost smothered into the bear-hug embrace of his unbreakable muscles, I slept unmoved all night long. Aside from the drawn-out bathroom break around 3 a.m. that predictably led to him being woken by my blind stumbles in the dark, and needing another dose of his addiction between my legs. I didn’t startle from a deep sleep with hallucinations of his ghostly form sleeping next to me, or wake up and yearn for his warm body next to me under the sheets. I had both of those things. In fullness of reality, in the flesh. No more visions or dreams of fond memories, or nightmares of what could’ve been. We had found that road back to each other, and there were more memories to make.

I awoke, nude, alone in a tangled array of passion-soaked sheets, to the sound of a grinding blender, and an aroma perhaps to be eggs cooking. Checking the mirror briefly for matted, morning eye gunk, I adorned myself in a crumbled t-shirt I found in the arm chair beside his bed, then let my nose follow the scent of my probable waiting breakfast.

As I walked barefoot through the morning lit halls, a tingling yet, enflamed throb pulsed with my steps. It was the familiar ache of a night spent with Colton, and I smiled euphorically, welcoming the sensation.

“There she is! I was about to come wake your lazy ass up. You gotta eat so I can get you home and changed for work. Hope you don’t mind, I texted Ryan from your phone tellin’ him you’d be a little late to work this mornin’. I wanted you to sleep.” Colton turned away from the stovetop, serving up a healthy plate of scrambled egg whites, and two tomato slices.

He was covered only in thin shorts, and apparently a pair of tight-fitting briefs that peeked out around the waistband.  His eyes were a bit puffy, and still glazed from sleep, and again, freshly showered I concluded from the smell of his mountain musk soap. He smell was an unforgettable aroma of home. “Dig in, and I’ll put your protein shake in a cup for you to drink on the way.”

“Colton Ritter. Domesticated. I never thought I’d see the day. Should I buy us matching aprons?” I bit into a piece of the ripe tomato, catching an explosion of juice from running down my chin.

“Domesticated in the kitchen, maybe. The bedroom? Another story.  Isn’t that right you filthy, begging girl?” He sarcastic chided as he stood behind my chair, lifting my knotty hair into a fist, then kissing the back of my now exposed neck.

I recalled then the embarrassing amount of times that I’d whispered “please,” or “don’t stop,” the night before in our torrid exchanges.

“You created this monster, babe.” My head relaxed into his standing body behind me, and I winked up at him, menacingly.

TAGS: @torialeysha @eap1935 @littleluna98 @mollybegger-blog

Sunday, June 6 2021

This is an Adventure!

It’s been several weeks since my last blog post, and a lot has happened in that time! It’s exciting to see our progress and the miles that we have walked so far. At this point we are 652 miles into our journey, only 50 miles until we enter the Sierra Nevada Mountains and leave the desert behind. We’ve slowly built up our endurance and become stronger and stronger, able to complete over 20 miles per day on average over the past two weeks, minus a few days of extreme heat where our mileage was less. But no one wants to hear about that! As hikers, our conversations seem to revolve around how many miles we plan to go, what the weather is doing, the difficulty of the terrain, where the next water source is, and what kind of food we’re eating. To regular people, this must seem quite boring! To us, it’s as normal as talking about football around the water cooler with coworkers (or in Landon’s case, talking about Columnar Basalt for 10 minutes with other hikers around the pool).

Despite hiking longer days and doing higher miles, we always seem to be stiff and sore! Especially after waking up in the morning. A few weeks ago, we met another hiker couple who actually met hiking the Appalachian Trail a few years ago and ended up dating on trail and then got married earlier this year. Having done a thru hike before, they told us that this is normal! That we will still feel aches and pains throughout the trail, but we will do so having done more miles and harder terrain as we progress. I have found this to be true! It truly is very rare to wake up and feel excellent. Generally, every day feels rather tough to get moving, and we are very tired when we finally do stop hiking. Our physical and mental fortitude continues to be tested day after day, especially in this last 100 miles of hiking.

Leaving Tehachapi, we entered a heat wave in a rather barren and exposed section of trail. I think of all my time on the PCT thus far, this past week tested me the most. Hiking in 90 plus degree heat climbing up hot, sandy slopes with the blaring sun overhead was one of the hardest physical and mental things I have ever done. We pushed ourselves to either wake up incredibly early (around 4 AM) or hike in the dark in the coolness of the descending sun (until 10 and 11 pm). In the hottest part of the day, we would try to find some shade (not easily found sometimes) and take a rest for several hours. Not even the rest came easily though, as the shade proved to be little relief from the sun, and it was too uncomfortable to sleep much. Water sources were few and far between as well, about 20 miles away from each other (and only that close together due to the kindness of trail angels who maintain water caches for the hikers). We would sit at the water caches and drink several liters of electrolytes to “camel up” before heading out again, carrying 5-6 liters apiece (and sometimes still not having enough). The water weighs your pack down quite a lot, but we have discovered that we prefer to hiker with heavy packs than run out of water. This was another reason for our midday rests, we simply did not have enough water to hike in the extreme heat (nor did it prove to be very efficient). You tend to have to ration your water to a certain extent. Landon and I would set up our tent at night, and have conversations like “if we use 500 ml to make dinner, we can drink 500 ml of electrolytes and that will leave us 1 Liter apiece for the next 7 miles to the next water source. If we wake up at 4, we should be able to make it there with that amount of water before it gets too hot.” Logistics and planning are incredibly important out here. I cannot imagine how much more difficult it would have been to hike the PCT pre internet, pre Guthooks (the amazing app we use that has our maps, shows our water sources, etc). I’m so grateful for modern resources to help us plan our days safely out here!

To those of you like my good friend Tayler, who consistently tells me that I do a poor job convincing her that anyone should ever do this, let me talk a little bit about how incredible this experience is despite the hardships. First of all, the community on the PCT is wonderful. I joke that being on trail is a lot like being back in high school with your friends. You’re all sharing very similar experiences that bond you in a way that only other hikers can completely understand! My best example of this was earlier this week, when we set up a tarp at one of the water caches with our friend Jim. Jim is a lovely person, so friendly and fun to talk to. He is also the dirtiest hiker I have ever seen. He sleeps in the same clothes he hikes in and consistently has thick dirt absolutely caked to his legs. As such, I gave him the trail name Dirtcake, which he seems to have accepted (you can accept or reject a suggested trail name). As we lay under the tarp in our makeshift shade, the temperature being clocked in at 99 degrees by Landon’s fancy watch hanging from his trekking pole, we all laughed as we talked about how miserable and absurd this moment was! The wind was blowing fine grains of sand into us, which clung to our sweaty bodies. I looked down at Jim to see clumps of dirt not only clinging to his legs, but also to his chest hair and speckled across his face as he took a feverish nap. As we drank our hot Propel Watermelon water, we all laughed because this is our life right now, and there is no way around it, only through it, but at least we’re going through it together. At least in these less than ideal circumstances, we can talk and laugh and tell stories and experience life in a way that few people ever do. We can reminisce about having awakened to a beautiful morning in a pine forest just that morning, having filtered cool, clear mountain spring water, and that stark contrast that a few miles and 1500 feet of elevation descent can make. We can tell stories about the worst jobs we ever had and laugh about so and so’s crazy manager, or that one Karen customer that threw a fit that one time 10 minutes before the end of a shift (or about how Jim used to eat leftover food from customers at his high school food service job. He was truly meant for the hiker trash life!) It’s the contrast between these experiences that make little luxuries feel so much sweeter and more appreciated than I ever would have been able to know in my rather comfortable pre trail life.

Our 3 hours of tarp hell, suffered together at least.

Here are some things that I am immensely grateful for currently

- The hospitality of friends and strangers. We stayed for free with two friends in Tehachapi, Mitzy and Kristy, both of whom opened their homes to us to rest, shower, watch movies, soak in a hot tub, enjoy a meal, etc. We’ve also had complete strangers show us great kindness! Two wonderful women gave us a ride from Walker Pass into town yesterday, offering us charging cables for our phones, air conditioning, food in the car, and lovely conversation and company. Even the women running the motel we are currently staying in have been exceptional. They allowed us to do our laundry in their motel washer and dryer, fed us snacks poolside, gave us a discount and opened up an extra room (that is normally withheld) because all the rooms in town were booked. If you are ever in Kernville, CA, please check out Piazzas Pine Cone Inn, it’s an absolute oasis! And I would be remiss to not mention the trail angels who maintain the water caches in the desert. These people spend their own time and money (though we always donate if they have a donation box) to buy and transport water jugs back and forth to these remote dirt roads in the desert, just to help out PCT hikers that they don’t know and have never met. Isn’t that the kindest and most incredible act of service?

Being on trail with these other hikers, the most interesting and dynamic people, surrounded by the beauty of the natural world, is the best cure for cynicism and and upsetting news stories and angry political internet arguments. We’re all working toward a similar goal, supporting each other’s journeys, commiserating and laughing together, learning and growing and hurting and hiking. It’s so hard but it’s so wonderful. A couple of weeks ago, my mom made a comment to me that I couldn’t help but laugh at. She said “You know that you could take all of the money that you saved up for this hike, and just go spend a month or two on the beach in Aruba instead, right?” Ha! Yes Mom, I know. We could do that, and it would be much, much easier. A section hiker named Prospector gave us a button that says “This is an adventure.” And no one remembers vacations the same way that they remember adventures!

So as I sit writing this in the soft and very appreciated bed of our small town motel room, I can’t help but feel extremely happy. I know that in a few hours, I will leave the comfort and air conditioning and replace my heavy pack on my sore shoulders. I’ll put on my extremely worn out shoes that will surely leave my feet sore and give me some new blister or two in the coming days (unfortunately my new shoes never arrived due to a shipping mishap, and I’ve had to wear these about 200 miles past their ‘best use by’ date). I’ll sweat through my clothes and collapse from exhaustion and curse the day I ever decided to hike the PCT. But this is an adventure! You can’t ever lose sight of that. And we’re already 650 miles into this adventure! 25% of the way through! I’m so proud of that. Only 50 miles from the Sierra Nevada’s! Where we will enter a while new set of beauty and challenges, embracing it full on, grateful to leave the desert behind.

Here is my Mantra for the PCT, taken from one of my favorite books (recently read in my pre trail book club) The Book of Longings by Sue Monk Kidd


"Then I would rise, my legs snarled with cramps, my stomach panged with hunger, blisters on my heels—oh, but the world was large and mysterious and I was far from home, journeying with my beloved."

Thanks for reading, see you up the trail!

- Joscelyn

P.S. - I finally got my trail name! I am now AC/DC, which actually has nothing to do with any love of the band or 80s music (though I can get down to Highway to Hell as much as the next person). I was named by another hiker named Southern Hospitality, who gave it to me after hearing me blow up my pad with a miniature air pump that I have carried for the entire trail. As an ultralight hiker, he found it absolutely ridiculous and incredibly funny that I have chosen to carry this. It takes 45 breaths to blow up my pad! I hate it. The air pump is the best luxury and absolutely worth the 3 ounces. Landon’s trail name is Outlast, which he received several hundred miles ago actually. We were sitting in a shelter at a wind farm outside of Palm Springs, waiting out the heat of the day with some other hikers. Someone mentioned that the shelter seemed like a hut that would be built in the Reality TV show Survivor, and Landon told them that he had watched all 40 seasons of Survivor over the course of the pandemic. We spent the next 15 minutes talking about Survivor strategy, with Landon giving his expert tips as a student of the show. Our friend Tidbits told him that he needed a Survivor trail name, and so he was given the name Outlast (Survivors motto is Outwit, Outplay, Outlast). It also seems fitting because you truly have to Outlast the difficulty to be a successful thru hiker!