Behind Closed Doors: Nine Forbidden Nights

NoraFebruary 13Have you ever had one of those ideas that sounded great in your head — perfect and well thought out, just the thing to give you what you were craving — only to discover your great idea gives you the exact opposite of everything you desired?Well, I’m currently having one of those moments.When I thought this afternoon, Hey, I know! To get away fromValentine ’s Day and all of its commercialized reminders of how nonexistent my love life is, I’ll go to the ski resort in Vail Ridge! I’ll take a solo trip and enjoy being single! Enjoy not having to see one xoxo, or one pandered holiday-themed anything, in a mountain of snow, it sounded ideal. Like the kind of vacation that would put me far, far away from feeling any lack in my life. And all because of one stupid day.But, nope. Here I am sitting in the bar, nursing a pink-sugar martini(no, they didn’t just bring it out for the holiday — I drink them regularly)right in the middle of Love Central. Match-Made-In-Heaven M

NoraAfter a deliciously decadent meal of mac & cheese and chocolate cake in my room, I decide on a whim to go for a soak in the hot tub. Not always the best thing to do after eating, but I could use a massage on my shoulders, back, and neck.Since I'm without an obedient, service-minded man to help me out, I’m left to rely on jet streams and water.Which is fine since I’ll probably have the hot tub and surrounding spa to myself for the most part. It’s close to eleven, and that means most people are probably already up in their rooms or schmoozing with each otherelsewhere.Grabbing my pair of provided flip-flops and slipping them on, I head to the door. I’m in my leopard-patterned swimsuit. I have a pair of matching leopard ears to go with it, but I’ve decided not to wear the ears now. Role- play only, really. And only if I find myself a boy to play nicely with.Which is probably not going to happen, I remind myself, stepping out my of door and closing it behind me. As Ido, I wrap my

NoraValentine ’s DayAfter my encounter with the mystery woman in the hall last night, I only sat in the hot tub for a little while. Not long enough to ease any of my aching muscles.No matter, though. I spent the morning skiing and now plan to soak for a lot longer. When I ski, I really ski. I go for the hardest, longest runs on the mountain. Not only because I like the challenge, the physical and mentaleffort it takes, but the solitude it provides.Every day, not just on Valentine’s Day, I don’t particularly like other people. Especially not shallow, chatty ones.But today, as I go back into the lodge, I’m exceptionally glad for it.Within seconds of coming back to “civilization,” all I can see is couple after couple. Drinking cocoas and coffee. Snacking on cookies and candies.Chocolates and caramels provided by the resort just for “your sweetheart with a sweet tooth,” as the puke-inducing signs say.Repressing a shudder at the horrible, cheesy marketing, I clear myboots of any

NoraAgainst my better judgment, I’ve decided to go to whatever event is happening at the The Velvet Accord. But I’m nervous, tense, and more than a little apprehensive.There’s only one thing that seems to help me when I get like this:masturbating. Buzzing one off until I’m too jelly-like to worry about where I’m going, what I’m going to be doing, and who else is going to be there and why.I’ve got two hours to myself. More than enough time for a good one- on-one session with me and my Musashi Wand. It’s like Hitachi, but bigger, swoopier and with more options for speeds and patterns.Already dressed in my favorite outfit for pleasuring myself, and the outfit I’m planning to wear to the The Velvet Accord (a crimson-red corset with black lace and matching panties and high heels), I retrieve my big pink bag of pleasure. From it, I snatch my favorite vibrator, give it a quick wipe downwith a moist towelette, and proceed to check the battery charge.Full, just like my lips and clit hav

NoraWhen I first arrive at my destination, I feel like a drunk stumblingfrom place to place. First into the right parking lot, then to the right oldcolonial/Victorian-looking mansion. Then it’s a mad dash into the basement, and to whatever part of that basement holds the The Velvet Accord.Luckily for me, the moment I start my way down the stairs, I see the sign in big, bold gold lettering. I also see my mystery woman from the night before handing something to a doorman. She’s wearing a bright red blouse and a pair of black slacks. Her hair is just as wild as it was before, but now little red tips have been added to the spikes.With me wearing my chunky, red high heels, my mystery womanhears me before she sees me. She turns in my direction. Watches, but doesn’t break out into a smile until I’ve descended into the light and out of theshadows.“Glad you could make it,” she says, coming to help me off the last step and toward the doorman.I wouldn’t normally be up for receiving help