Given the week I’d just had, with my crossness over Mr Marks, you could be forgiven for thinking I’d want to just hide away and recharge. But in spite of our disagreement, or perhaps because of it, I made the decision to go along to the house party, also known as Easter Bunnies. You see, I’m a fan of challenging the negatives in my world by building evidence that positive exists. Dropping a message to the rock, I explained that I wanted to go along, and that it would probably just be for the one night. Optimistically pulling enough bits together for a full weekend away, I grabbed my bags and hopped into the car.
Easter Bunnies, here I come!!
It was a two hour drive, a good mix of main roads, motorways and twiddly-widdly lanes. By the time I arrived in his village and parked up my nerves had hit fever pitch. There were a few cars with people climbing out and making their way towards a house which matched the description. Waiting for them to disappear inside I took a stroll through down the quiet lane. By the time I’d built up the courage to knock all was silent again, aside from the crunching of little stones beneath my feet. I approached the door, heard laughter bubbling out of the windows, and knocked. Hard!
A face I didn’t know answered the door, ushered me in.
I don’t know if you’ve ever been to a house party where you didn’t actually know anyone. Even for a lone attendee at events this felt like it should have been really, really hard. But instead of feeling out of place and lost in amongst the dozen (at least) people who all seemed to know each other, I was instantly wrapped in warmth and love. I know I’m not explaining this well, but even three and a half years on I still remember how I felt like I had arrived home.
And then she stood up, out of the cushions strewn around.
A lady that I’d met briefly, once, at a play event at Studio Onyx. She got up and gave me a huge hug! Dropping my bag at one end of the long front room I was taken through to the kitchen. Here we found The Rock who stood fixing drinks. He swept me into a strong embrace so my request for a cup of tea came out as a creak! Part of me wants to share the whole adventure but anyone who attended agreed to the rule:
“What happens at Easter bunnies stays at bunnies”.
I’m a stickler for rules, so that’s why I’ve used a stock photo at the top, though I have enjoyed the pictures I took while reflecting on the weekend. There was nothing extreme, or illegal. There was plenty of tea, and wine. Not to mention The Rock’s kink is being the hostess-with-the-mostest so you can only imagine we were well catered for. But most importantly it was just so much fun! There were games, some I’d played before others not. Some clothed, others mostly naked. There were deep conversations, silly banter and everything in between! After one such converstaion I remember The Rock grasping my shoulders and looking me in the eye told me I’m “Fucking fantastic”. Something he often reminds me of!
The Rock: Easter Bunnies hostess and Barefoot’s Cheerleader!
Meeting my rope hero and his bunny was such a treat, I was invited to assist in a rigging adventure. We headed into nature on the Saturday afternoon, which was so welcome. As welcome as I felt at Easter Bunnies there were a lot of people and I needed some quiet time to manage the second night. Which I hadn’t committed to staying for, but realised that I actually just really wanted to.
Over the course of the weekend there was stream of arrivals and departures. A constant flow of people to chat to, different energies to bounce mine off. In the midst of all of this, it really felt like it was everybody’s home. For this weekend none of us were guests, just one big kinky family enjoying laughter, kink and silliness. This wasn’t the first time he’d hosted such an event, and wouldn’t be the last, but I was never once made to feel like the newcomer.
Unlike other house parties I’ve attended there was never any expectations.
This weekend we could all come and go as we pleased. One attendee had studies to do so would take themself off to their books for a few hours at a time. Another seemed to need some space and would zip their sleeping bag up over their head and curl up in a corner of the lounge. Close to the action, but closed off, recharging. I was surprised to find myself engaging in near constant conversation, tying
strangers new friends, and just having a wonderful time. Scenes unfolded around the house, others were aware of them but, if we watched, it was from a respectful distance.
My heart still swells at the sense of warmth and belonging I felt, all this time later.
I think it was Sunday afternoon (though it could have been Monday) when the last stragglers lounged on his oversized sofa, exhausted and drinking tea. Aware of my long drive home and the need to complete my week of runs I struggled to lift my head. Instead I curled up, head resting on the rock’s thigh, while he stroked my hair. I’d never let anyone do that before, in fact the very idea of it was abhorrent (if I ever gave it any thinking time) but something inside of me had softened that weekend.
Perhaps I’d become an Easter Bunny?
I’d discovered a new world within the world that I loved. Or perhaps parallel to it? I came away with new friends, and a refreshed outlook. There are some experiences in life which change you, and there’s no coming back from them. I feel like I’m waxing lyrical, being a bit soppy! But you know what? After meeting Sir I would say that Easter Bunnies was the next most pivotal point in my growth. I’d grown incrementally with each new experience and interactions, but sometimes you babystep on a springboard which propels you further than you could ever imagine. This was one of those unexpected moments.
And what a joy the aftermath has been!
Easter Bunnies is the continuation of the story of how I became the woman I am today. The next post will follow soon!
From the story of how the barefoot sub became the woman she is today, to toy reviews, with a hefty dose of contemplation, a sprinkling of erotica and a LOT of nudity in between, you can be sure to find something to tickle your fancy at A Leap Of Faith.