Shattered Glass, Forbidden Blood and Filling My Void

The Refuge Hostel to Boots Off Hostel:

     We decided to night hike the road out of Refuge Hostel instead of backtracking to the AT. As we got going, I sensed a lot of annoyance arising within me. I seemed to feel triggered by the presence of another person beside me. Sometimes, Voodoo felt so loud to me. He would randomly sing, put on music at full blast or talk really loud. Although sweet in one way, and happy that he knew how to entertain himself, I on the other hand, felt as though I started to reach my threshold.

     My soul craved complete silence. Often times, I didn’t even want to hear the sound of my own voice. The early morning hours were when all the wildlife came out and I felt as if I haven’t seen the presence of an animal in weeks. I longed to hear the sound of my own footsteps again.

     So, funny thing was that we had to follow the same road for a while and then veer to the right in order to connect back to the AT. We had already walked several miles when suddenly we started to make a steep descent; Voodoo didn’t recall an abrupt decline on the topography map. I told him he was just paranoid and that we just had to keep following the road.

     Turned out, we were actually making a direct shot back into Roan Mountain instead. We were already too far down and didn’t feel like backtracking all the way back up the hill, so we accepted the fact that we just made a giant circle back into the town where we just came from. Oh my goodness, I laughed and laughed!

     We rolled with the punch and hitched into the town of Hampton instead. We grabbed breakfast at a local diner and made fun of ourselves for what looked like a failed attempt to hike. I called my mom to let her know I was alive and well, while Voodoo left the table to go smoke a cigarette.

     All of a sudden, one of the servers ran up to me and asked if I saw that my “boyfriend” was bleeding.

     “Oh God,” I said.

     I ran out the door to find him sitting on a wooden bench with a deep gash below his knee. Large shards of glass were scattered throughout the ground and a fresh stream of blood poured out of the wound as he attempted to cover it with gauze pads.

     I laughed out loud and asked, “What the fuck did you manage to do?!”

     He was trying to open the door for some elderly women and accidentally slammed his knee into the glass window which caused it to shatter into pieces. Only Voodoo. It was a perfect representation of his old school gentleman demeanor integrated with his “wild card” persona.

     The owner of the place came to check out the scene, comped our meals and let us go in the back to hose down his leg. One of the customers bought Voodoo a bunch of medical supplies and stitch glue to help him get back on his feet. The guy happened to be a shuttle driver for hikers, so he trail angel’d us a ride to Boots Off.

     When we arrived, it was obvious to me that we would be spending the night. The place was a hikers haven—completely catered to our convenience. There was a large fireplace to sit around, a big community space near the kitchen, and a deck that overlooked a forest of trees.

     Grumpy took care of us at the register while we booked a cabin tent for the night. Voodoo placed his arm around my waist, pulling me close—both of us unable to stay focused while high on each other.

     Grumpy looked at me confusingly and asked, “How did you end up with him?!”

     I blushed in a way that suggested, If only you knew how good he fucked me.

     When Voodoo and I were together, it felt impossible to keep our hands off each other. We kept getting playfully in trouble for making out in public, being told to save it for the cabin. I absolutely loved misbehaving. I even enjoyed receiving the perception of embarrassment.

     Grumpy led us to our humble abode and I immediately threw Voodoo onto the bed. I jumped on top of him while Grumpy zipped up the tent behind us, shaking his head in disapproval.

     I started grinding on him, revealing the yearning desire I had for him through my devilish eyes. He really wanted to play, however his wound was really aggravating him—said it was swollen and nearly losing circulation.

     I said, “You don’t have to do anything. I just want to rub my clit on the head of your cock.”

     I let him in on a little secret and revealed how turned on I felt when I saw the blood running down his leg. It felt dangerous to me… forbidden. I wanted to lick it up, mix it up with my own, make art with it.

     I took my panties off and started rubbing my pussy up and down the shaft of his cock.

     He asked, “You know how I know you like me? Because of how wet you are for me.”

     I smiled and slipped him into the depths of my being. There it was—the moment where the world seemed to fade and I didn’t have to think about the pain that enveloped my mind.

     He said, “You’re so fine,” then pushed his cock in deeper.

     Drool poured from out of my mouth. The deeper he filled my void, the more I wasn’t able to recognize that I was running from my own darkness. He took my drool and wiped it all over my face, then kissed me with his mouth wide open.

     I recalled the way he first looked at me with those eyes and how much it made me want to cum upon first glance. It has only intensified to a white hot lightning since then. I yearned to get closer to him, but I was still light years away from him. (Full version on my blog.)

     We went back to the common area where I met some of my readers—one being the owner of Boot’s Off, Sidetracked. They said they loved my writing because I talked about things people didn’t have the courage to speak about. I often felt the Holy Spirit brought people into my life to remind me that I was on the right path and that my tribe was out there. I was reminded that I didn’t have to tone myself down in an attempt to people please the whole population.

     In the group, I met a woman named Pringles who thru-hiked the AT in ‘19. She was immediately on board with my writing and was herself, a freaky girl. It felt healing to connect with women, especially to be lifted up by them. It seemed like a rare occurrence, so when it arose in my experience I felt deep gratitude for the connection. She showed me aspects of myself that I felt called to work on, such as true confidence and vulnerability.

     Voodoo and I basked in an afterglow. I sat on his lap, fondled his hair and kissed him passionately. I loved when people could see how deeply I crushed on him. I also loved PDA, I guess because I knew what it felt like to be hidden away from the world and to be rejected for appearing as “too much”.

     I often got a vibe that people didn’t like Voodoo or were intimidated by his loud persona, but it didn’t phase me. It was their loss if they didn’t want to see how incredible he was. I really wanted him to feel loved and adored while I was with him and part of my love language was to show him off.

     I appreciated that Sidetracked seemed so open to having us. He let us have the freedom to fuck around as much as we wanted and even encouraged it. It was liberating to feel accepted for the way I appeared to be and not feel like I had to walk on eggshells.

     The night ended with eating tacos and sitting on Voodoo’s lap beside the fireplace. I only sat with him for a few minutes… I felt a sense of attachment forming. I was being pulled towards him like a force of gravity. I wished I could be his girl, but I knew my apparent ways would soon sabotage what could’ve been.