Jim

Jim had found the perfect place and time for inviting people to his little informal soirees. His “Peter Lorre” eyes and nonthreatening sweet demeanor resulted in incredible events. Later he created the ultimate Fetish event four years running, the likes of which have never been duplicated. More about that later.
We often gathered at “the apartment” in Garden Grove Ca. I have many fond memories from there. One example was of the beautiful Artemis stepping up to a hitching post, stretching her arms into restraints and jutting her butt out. She spread her legs, wearing only her high heel leather boots. Most of us took the opportunity and gave her slaps across her abundant ass, as she wiggled, giggled and smiled. Jim the forever party master, came from the kitchen carrying a half-gallon of Dryer’s Vanilla ice cream and large wooden spoon. My first thought was wondering if he was going to pass it around for everyone to eat right out of the carton, but that was not the case. With a light almost, dance like movement he stepped up onto the platform of the hitching post and whispered to Artemis, she answered him with a nod. He scooped ice cream onto her extended buttock making her shiver. Seconds later ribbons of ice cream began melting making streams of gooey white slush, clinging to the curve of her butt. Soon many us were taking turns licking ice cream off her quivering cheeks. “Look, she’s curling her toes inside her boots.” Reb, aka Rebeca H. Heels said with an affectionate giggle as he watched from his seat on the couch. People smiled, laughed, conversed, Artemis wriggled, and some of us were in that silent meditating like state of heighten sexual arousal.