I do love a nice picnic.

A while ago when the sunshine was blazing I organised an al fresco soiree in a secluded park for my friends and I. It was a splendid affair, with an awful lot of pate and Pimms, topped with good company. We were joined by our newest mutual friend, a rather striking chap called Nick with whom I had been doing some mild flirting on a couple of previous occasions. Tall, dark and broad with a rather inviting smile and a sarcastically scathing wit, I felt rather drawn to him. He said he could only join us for an hour or so but his company was most welcome.

Out of the blue a couple of hours later I received a call from Mike asking what I was doing with my evening. Being aware that his past record of social interaction had not exactly been wonderful, I was cautious but couldn’t in good conscience not invite him to join in with our festivities. He arrived not long after but the Pimms had been surpassed by the rose at this point, and my behaviour was not exactly restrained – I was celebrating summer truly! Mike was quite quiet, but as mentioned that is not exactly unusual and easily covered by everyone else’s friendly banter.

Unfortunately, Nick felt moved to steal my chair from me after a brief absence, which after some well-felt arguing resulted in me wrestling him to the ground. At Mike’s feet. Whoops. That was possibly a little full-on, even if Mike will refuse to acknowledge even a trace of romantic involvement with me in public. I did win my chair back though, and that’s the main thing, right?

Thing is, I’m an incredibly tactile girl when I’m flirting, and if there’s a boy who shuns me in that way I’m almost certainly going to try and get that gratification elsewhere…

When it became too dark to see any more a large section of our happy band decided to continue the evening at my house. Upon arrival it became apparent that there were not enough chairs for everyone, and so I took Nick’s knee. I forget who’s idea that was. So Much for him only coming out for an hour!

The evening wore into the early hours, and it was a school night, so gradually everyone left, leaving just myself and Mike. Boy, was he unhappy with me! Turns out he had been falling for me, quite apart from any designs by me to engineer it or otherwise. I really do have no capacity to judge these things! How can someone feel so strongly for someone yet have no desire to show it in the slightest? I’m not big on overly strong displays of public affection, but a gesture can mean so much as can it’s absence. Apparently my behaviour had cured him of such feelings for me beyond a handy fuck, which while sad was also a bit of a relief. I wouldn’t have been able to reciprocate those feelings, I enjoyed being his treasured princess while we were alone, but not his nothing when we weren’t.

His anger did come out in quite a forceful bdsm play session,which I think was a good catharsis for both of us. I came out black and blue but days later as I looked at each bruise it didn’t make me think of the punches that had put them there, it made me think of flirting with Nick, and then I’d smile. It had been a lovely picnic.

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