Seven ladies, a lord and a licky little dog (woof!)
Ah, a Maremma meadow. How delightful. How serene.
Arriving late at night, as tradition dictates, we congratulated ourselves on far-sighted purchase of produce and the perfect lesbian fridge.
Dominata did some nifty work on some Roman tomatoes and Borough market walnut bread, coming up with some fabulous Greek-style bruschette, which we gobbled with gay abandon, washing it down with some last minute additions from a roadside stop.
In the following 48 hours we left the house precisely once, to forage for booze in nearby Scansano. Squiggy (Italian spelling at all times!) applied her not-inconsiderable tasting skills to the job in hand.
DJ S was simply overwhelmed by choice.
Back home, surrounded by swirling fog and driving rain, we applied ourselves to Making Our Own Fun. My mother would have been proud. It sort of went like this.
Prosecco swilling in profusion, combined with copious weeping at matinee viewing of A Single Man.
Constant grazing on salty snax and finger food (thus alleviating the need to sit down at table but rather, drift in and out of kitchen, drink in hand, food in other in style of glamorous-cocktail-party-slash-health-spa)
Fencing practice with various kitchen items, to burn off above-mentioned snax and release any spare aggression.
Hilarity at Misterpackit clingfilm, leading to ribald discussions on length and girth and near assault on the boi.
Prom night! A small misunderstanding led to half the party bringing slut-frox and tuxes, the others forced to rummage around in drawers for old favourites, but no matter! We all rose superbly to the occasion, aided by a small collection of Cuban cigars that we found tucked away in a box.
The main fun was, as ever, getting ready.
We groomed and picked and combed at each other like the good little primates that we are.
Although I did wonder who that young filly was in the jailbait outfit.
She seemed to get on rather well with Lord Leng.
FKJ put up a damn good fight as resident House Daddy, styled by yours truly in the style of Helmut Newton.
Although I’m still not sure what she did with that cigar.
Whilst Sherlock Squiggy (copyright Sicily) played it cool on the terrace,
And DJ S and Lady V played nicely in the kitchen,
There was a Sicilian stand-off on who got to use the potty.
Ah, making one's own fun. How wholesome. Cannot WAIT to do it all again at Porno!
Thanks to Leng for the snaps. Obviously I never got round taking any of my own....
Arriving late at night, as tradition dictates, we congratulated ourselves on far-sighted purchase of produce and the perfect lesbian fridge.
Dominata did some nifty work on some Roman tomatoes and Borough market walnut bread, coming up with some fabulous Greek-style bruschette, which we gobbled with gay abandon, washing it down with some last minute additions from a roadside stop.
In the following 48 hours we left the house precisely once, to forage for booze in nearby Scansano. Squiggy (Italian spelling at all times!) applied her not-inconsiderable tasting skills to the job in hand.
DJ S was simply overwhelmed by choice.
Back home, surrounded by swirling fog and driving rain, we applied ourselves to Making Our Own Fun. My mother would have been proud. It sort of went like this.
Prosecco swilling in profusion, combined with copious weeping at matinee viewing of A Single Man.
Constant grazing on salty snax and finger food (thus alleviating the need to sit down at table but rather, drift in and out of kitchen, drink in hand, food in other in style of glamorous-cocktail-party-slash-health-spa)
Fencing practice with various kitchen items, to burn off above-mentioned snax and release any spare aggression.
Hilarity at Misterpackit clingfilm, leading to ribald discussions on length and girth and near assault on the boi.
Prom night! A small misunderstanding led to half the party bringing slut-frox and tuxes, the others forced to rummage around in drawers for old favourites, but no matter! We all rose superbly to the occasion, aided by a small collection of Cuban cigars that we found tucked away in a box.
The main fun was, as ever, getting ready.
We groomed and picked and combed at each other like the good little primates that we are.
Although I did wonder who that young filly was in the jailbait outfit.
She seemed to get on rather well with Lord Leng.
FKJ put up a damn good fight as resident House Daddy, styled by yours truly in the style of Helmut Newton.
Although I’m still not sure what she did with that cigar.
Whilst Sherlock Squiggy (copyright Sicily) played it cool on the terrace,
And DJ S and Lady V played nicely in the kitchen,
There was a Sicilian stand-off on who got to use the potty.
Ah, making one's own fun. How wholesome. Cannot WAIT to do it all again at Porno!
Thanks to Leng for the snaps. Obviously I never got round taking any of my own....
posted by Lady V at 7:35 pm
7 Comments:
TOT. your finest post all YEAR. stunned at same-wave-lengthiness but your post surpasses mine in quality and quantity. seamless narative. with show don't tell illustrative pix. MEMORABLE. EPIC. NOT A SINGLE LADY IN SIGHT. apart from vestal maude. mascot for our times. and all round luxury accessory.
Suddenly, I wish I was a single woman...
You are all looking FAB, natch. Glad to see all has been double-blogged for extra thoroughness. Love the Gaga tribute, love the Sicilian theme, etc. It's all a bit too glam, though. I mean, you can't even see the mold dripping from the walls. Come on, tell us what REALLY happened!
(this comment may be cross-posted on a similar blog)
what a joy to read... us primates dressed up well. Here's to Porno! being bigger and better (we have some work ahead of us to top it ladies and gents). DJS
I haz warm fluffy thoughts when I rememebr that weekend.
I also wish I had a time machine to go back to that weekend.
Leng x
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