Sometimes it’s nice to get away, but it’s always nice to come back home. The Bahamas are great, sunny, hot and with a plethora of people to watch and be amused by. Why is it that no matter where you go there are always “those people”? You know, the guy who looks like he’s wearing a hair shirt in the Speedo on the blanket next to you, the fat woman in the tiny bikini, her rolls of fat glistening with tanning oil… the hot girl who spends her time making sure everyone is looking at her and therefore making herself UNATTRACTIVE, and the Jersey Shore rejects strutting the beach, talking in bad New York accents and enough hair gel to style a third-world country. Then there’s me, huddled on my lounger in a white men’s button down shirt under the umbrella, frantically reapplying sunscreen and still getting burned. You know, that girl that as they walk by, everyone wonders what the hell she’s doing on a beach when it’s obvious the sun hates her?
Well, even the albinos of the world need some downtime, peeps. So sunburn and freckles be damned, I am going to read my trashy novels and drink too many mixed drinks and attempt to tan, damn it! I had such a great time in Atlantis, all the water slides and rafting, and the general malaise in the air. Still, I found myself doing what I always do, sizing people up, wondering if the guy who won’t put his Black Berry down and talks self importantly secretly wants to be bound up in duct tape and have someone piss on his face. Or if the skinny business man in the droopy swim trunks and a pot belly whiter then my legs is wishing to be dressed in women’s clothes and forced to submit to S/O worship. And, does that older gentleman with that hot younger woman (and I can’t tell- daughter? wife? Mistress?) is waiting for the sun to go down so he can be tied to a bed and thrashed soundly with a cat o’ nine tails…
This is my secret game. I like to sit out in the real world and wonder what kink random strangers are hiding. Does that lawyer have on women’s undies under that power suit? Is the weird guy in my mailroom a closet leather fetishist? What would my boss look like dress up in a pink maid’s outfit and high heels being chased around my dungeon with a paddle while I accuse him/her of stealing from me in a roleplay? I suppose it’s like any one’s idle thoughts really- probably pretty weird to anoyone who knew, but a small pleasure for me alone to enjoy….