Jos and I got to meet Thumper this morning for breakfast. I’ve met people who read my blog before, but I’d never met anyone whose kinky blog I read.
It was good. We had plenty to talk about – including all of you other crazy Internet people – and I drank way too much iced tea and got a bit hyper (on the inside).
Also, folks, Thumper is a fine-looking man. I was glad Joscelin was there to keep me from gettin’ all nervous and such.
Categories: amazing revelations · conversations
I could totally do ageplay.
Categories: amazing revelations
It definitely seems to have gone into a new phase for me (as mentioned previously).
There are days when I don’t want to continue. Unlike in previous relationships (which, as a commenter pointed out, occurred pretty far in the past), I don’t feel contempt for Jos, or dislike him, or feel angry towards him. But I do feel…what? Vacant. Uninvolved. Something like that.
And other times, I feel what I have in the past – love as well as deep liking and enjoyment.
I think Jos has now gone into the same category as a lot of other things in my life, like my job, exercise, and math: when I put in energy, I get enjoyment and fulfillment, and when I don’t, then…I don’t. (I love my job exactly in proportion to how much I am working vs. goofing off.)
I don’t really know what this means for the future. I also think that one of the major difficulties of our life together – Jos’s adjustment to having a full-time job-type job (vs. the differently hard experience of being a grad student / writing a thesis) – may pass or ease over time.
You’ll be the third to know.
Categories: relationship blather
Last night, I looked up to find Jos standing in my doorway.
“Want to do something?” he asked.
“Like sex?” (I’m a little slow.)
“Yeah.”
Being as I am somewhat of a sloth by nature, my default answer for “do you want to do x” is always “NO,” but since I recognize this as a trait that takes away all of the joy of living, I instead said, “Let’s get in bed and find out.”
So we did.
I had Jos roll over to face away from me so I could snuggle up to his back, which I soon started biting/sucking on. He got some nice hickies and I enjoyed exercising my primitive oral drives. I was being careful not to hurt him too much since it is easy to go overboard with biting especially. (Jaws are strong, kids.)
When I reached around he was really hard. He hadn’t come in a couple of weeks, and hadn’t been allowed to masturbate over the past two days or so, so when I touched his cock he was very responsive (right up until the point where he said “Stop!” because he couldn’t tell if he was about to come or not).
I started idly tapping one of his balls, slapping it very softly with my fingertips. He was now rolled over partly towards me, and I tried to keep the pain consistent without making it too much. I did that for a while, and also hit and flicked the other ball. I was getting turned on by his sounds.
I rolled over towards my side of the bed and announced my intention to have an orgasm. I started using my vibrator and I had Jos lick my nipple, which was fantastic. Midway through, I decided not to come, but to get close instead, and then fuck Jos, and then come afterwards. (Fucking doesn’t make me come, but it feels more exciting before orgasm than after.)
I edged myself and stopped quite close to the brink.
Jos got a condom and some lube and started to fuck me. Unfortunately, the condom ate up all of the lube and I wasn’t all that wet, so we had excessive friction (at least on my side). I still enjoyed it moderately well, but it wasn’t quite the experience I had been hoping for.
I did want to feel him come.
“You owe me a punishment,” he reminded me at some point.
“Right,” I said. “I’ll do that after you come.”
“You’re doing to let me come?” he asked.
“I am.”
“Please don’t let me come,” he said.
“How do you feel asking that?” I asked.
He gave a muddled answer – something about scared.
“I’m going to make you come anyway,” I said. “When I say so, you fuck me hard and come.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Go,” I said. And he did. And I really did enjoy the feeling of him coming.
Then I finished myself off with the vibrator and with more nipple sucking. My orgasm was gentle.
We had some good conversation afterwards that I hope to relate at a later date. But that’s what a weeknight quickie looks like at my house.
Categories: sex
I just sent Joscelin the following email:
For Saturday:
Design a scene you think I would enjoy. Think about the things that I seem to like the most and build a scene around them. (And don’t stress out – it doesn’t need to be my Most Ultimate Scene Ever or anything like that.)
I’ll expect to receive this by in writing (email is fine) by 3 PM Saturday. It only needs to be as long and elaborate as you’d like to make it – bullet points in intended chronological order is fine.
Feel free to ask questions.
I’m curious to see how it turns out.
A few weeks ago, I was feeling insecure, and Joscelin gently said something like this: “You have to know inside of you who you are, all of the wonderful things about yourself. And if you don’t, that’s not something I can give you.”
Last night, in the course of a long conversation, he admitted to sometimes getting angry when I become insecure about his feelings for me. He feels ignored, because the signs that he loves and likes me are so many and obvious.
He doesn’t seem to struggle with these particular insecurities himself – he seems secure in my feelings about him. But where he struggles I do not, and that is about his sexuality. No amount of reassurance over our 2+ years together has sufficed to remove his fear that his submissiveness and the things he enjoy are (intrinsically?) unappealing, or not sexy.
The better our sex gets for him, the more he suffers guilt and worry after scenes. It doesn’t matter how many signs there are (verbal, physical) that I’m into it. It doesn’t matter that he likes topping me exactly the way he likes to be topped by me (thus proving that it’s at least possible to enjoy from the top’s side).
He said yesterday in the car that he feels increasingly in my debt, a debt that he can’t repay. And I think (as I said then) that this is not only incorrect, but dangerously, corrosively so. I think it’s the kind of thing that would eventually destroy a relationship.
He has always struggled to understand my motivations, what I get out of this, what my sexuality feels like from the inside. I think I still feel like an alien to him in this way. (He doesn’t feel like an alien to me at all. I feel like I understand him truly from the inside out, at least in this domain. And even though it feels to me like the top intrinsically has more empathy towards the bottom than vice versa – maybe just because that’s how I am in each role – still, I’d think he’d understand more by now.)
Providing a lot of reassurances about what you feel all the time is hard work. And of course I want to reassure him as much as he needs, but…yeah. (I know he feels the same way about my need for emotional reassurance.) And I don’t know how to be any more reassuring.
I wish that Jos would simply view his sexuality as intrinsically sexy. I wish he would feel sexy all on his own without needing a partner to validate it. And I wish he would feel that if his current partner didn’t share this view, then the partner was (for his purposes) wrong, and should be (however reluctantly) replaced with someone more compatible.
You can’t go through life thinking your sex partners are doing you a damn favor.
Categories: bad feelings · conversations
I have probably referred to myself as a control freak on this blog before. Joscelin also calls himself a control freak quite a bit. Oddly, we seem to have non-overlapping control-freakish tendencies.
I think Jos needs to feel that things around him, immediately affecting him, are under, if not his control exactly, then under some control that he understands. respects, and agrees with. If the rules of behavior are under-defined or change mysteriously, if his personal space is invaded, if unexpected things happen, then he becomes very uncomfortable. He does not like surprises. He wants time to prepare mentally for things that are going to happen. He startles easily. (Yes, these are all tricky qualities to manage when you also have a submissive sexuality.)
I am not much like that at all. Instead, I expect other people – and the closer they are to me, the more this is true – to do what I would do. If my lover picks up a tool and then proceeds to hold it in a (to my eyes) awkward way instead of the “right” way, I find myself irritated. If I hear a repetitive beeping noise caused by someone doing something, and I don’t know what the something is, I have to control my tendency to become irate, to demand, “What the hell are you doing?” (“Programming the Tivo.” “Oh, OK, sure, that makes sense.”)
I don’t actually care about the space I’m in, or (really) about how most things are done, once it’s all over. Make me a PB&J sandwich and I won’t care about the ratio of ingredients or whether the bread is cut straight or diagonally. But heaven forbid you try to get the peanut butter out of the jar with a spoon (wouldn’t a knife be easier?), or look like you’re going to forget to put the jelly back in the refrigerator.
I think the ideal for someone with a service kink like Jos’s would be someone who cared to have things a certain way, and who was able to be clear about that, but who didn’t quibble about means. But I am kind of annoying (including to myself, since obviously I actually get to feel all of this pointless irritation and controllingness) instead.
I also worry about things that are clearly another person’s lookout. Does he know he’s about to run out of milk? Will he remember to fill out the form to graduate? Has he called his mom for Mother’s Day? All kinds of bullshit like that.
I control this pretty well. (Well, I think I do, considering. Joscelin may well disagree. It requires sympathetic interpretation, at the very least, to think so.) I use these techniques:
The main thing is that my general determination not to say crazy controlling things means I sometimes convince myself that the situation is completely out of my hands, and then I can usually relax and let go. Sometimes a sense of futility is exactly what’s needed in life.
Categories: amazing revelations
Saturday night is date night. Last Saturday, lying in bed, before things got sexy, I brought up something difficult that I wanted to talk about. It was so difficult that it took me a long time to even say what it was, which of course meant a very tense few minutes of waiting on Joscelin’s part (during which he stayed very calm and patient rather than being like “Out with it, woman! I can’t take this!”).
I’m not sure how I actually said it, but the words I thought of and mostly rejected were along these lines
There are (at least) two forces at play here, and I’m not sure what the balance is between them. On the one hand, this may be the normal cooling-off of the initial sparkle of the relationship, and on the other hand, it might be that I’m detaching myself emotionally.
Both can be good and bad. It’s natural that the sparkly part of a relationship doesn’t last forever, so if that’s what’s going on, then I guess we get to find out whether our relationship still works, and thus can work long-term, or whether it only works with that initial intensity. And emotional detachment could be basically healthy (growing a spine, being more self-confident) or a response to something being wrong.
As far as the loss of sparkle goes, I don’t recall having gotten to this type of point in previous relationships. (I haven’t had a huge number of long-term relationships – maybe three if we count generously.) Instead I have usually reached a point of realizing that we will, in fact, break up at some point, even if I’m not at that point yet. Certain problems begin to reveal themselves as intractable. There are issues it is impossible to imagine even a productive conversation about.
None of that is true with Joscelin. I do not feel that breaking up is desirable or inevitable. We are fucking kick-ass at discussing things honestly and fairly. Certainly the relationship isn’t perfect, but I don’t see intractable problems of any appreciable size.
It does worry me a bit that I feel (at times) like breaking up would be partly a relief. To be fair, I haven’t felt it often, but I sometimes feel it for a few days in a row. Is that a terrible sign, or just a natural way to feel when you live with another human being with all of their…needs…and ways?
On the emotional detachment side, it occurs to me that this change in my feelings could be my way of coping with the fact that he needs more space than I could easily give him. I’ve changed inside so that he can have more space. Clearly that could be entirely healthy – it’s certainly necessary – but if I’m detaching out of hurt rather than out of confident independence, that could be bad. I can feel it both ways inside, so I’m not sure which is more true.
I have had some enlightenment come my way. I have been, in the past, way too sensitive when Jos has discussed problems in the relationship with me. (As he said a month or two ago, it was as if everything he said to me went through either the acceptance slot or the rejection slot.) I’ve tended to let a lot of my feelings be about whether he accepted or rejected me, rather than having my own stable idea of myself as a person independent of his feelings or judgment. And that is something I have felt change a lot recently. Several times lately, he has brought up issues that would have freaked me out in the past, and I’ve actually felt that he was talking about himself and not me, and his own problems and not mine, and I’ve been able to listen and respond calmly, and not just by faking it.
And I feel a little weird saying this, but I’ve also been reading Carolyn Hax (an advice columnist) lately and kind of absorbing some of her perspective, and it’s made me realize that the furtherance of the relationship isn’t up to him to decide, but is equally up to me. And that I will be fine with or without him.
Joscelin was (surprisingly, yet not at all surprisingly) completely calm and cool with hearing all of this, and, as usual, was somewhat relieved when I stated feelings that match his own private feelings (like sometimes wanting to just be alone). One of his fears in the relationship, right from the start, has always been that he is somehow misleading me about his feelings.
“He’s afraid he’s misleading me about his feelings” sounds rather dire, but I think in his case it’s just an excess of conscience or something. And I think it arises because he feels his own negative feelings (“god, won’t she ever shut up, I just want to play minesweeper in peace”) but can’t feel mine, and since I don’t usually express them (any more than he does), he feels there is more imbalance than there really is.
After the conversation I find myself liking and loving him more than ever. I was certainly reminded of how phenomenal he is, and of the very strong and good things about our relationship. And we had some good sex as well. So…well, we’ll see, won’t we?
Categories: conversations
Tom commented recently (on a post by Ranat) that I am popular with the…well, husbands. You know the ones I mean. The ones who keep, keep, keep trying to make their wives (or, occasionally, girlfriends, but let’s make stereotypes instead) be dominant. The husbands who all start to seem alike over time. “Oh, my Princess asked me to hold her purse the other day in the shoe store. Looking at her feet in those shoes and holding her purse, I really started to feel submissive. I think she’s starting to like this!” they write. A few days later, they come back a bit heartbroken.
I am entirely aware that someone could write an equally apt parody of a blog like mine. (Please do! I’m sure I’d get a kick out of it.)
I find those blogs irresistible at times. I think I like drama. I’d rather read stories where things get all fucked up than stories where they go well, and trying to convince your partner to follow a new (and possibly, for them, undesirable) sex paradigm is just asking for trouble. Trouble that you can then blog about on your secret blog that your wife doesn’t even know you keep.
If it’s true that I’m popular with these guys, it’s probably because I am actually a dom but at the same time seem insecure, muddled, confused, learning, etc., which makes me seem a lot more like their wives than someone confident would, or (certainly) than a professional dom would. (I mention pros because they have a lot of blogs.) I mean, I am not all that popular with them anyway, I don’t think, but…yeah.
The weirdest thing I see is all these men who seem to have entirely one-sided dominance relationships. He calls her Goddess but only on the blog / in his head, never to her face. He obeys her but in such a way that she just thinks he’s being agreeable. When she asks him to pick up some milk he thinks of it as service. An ordinary foot massage is transformed into an ultimate sexual experience.
I don’t know what the wives think of these men. I know that in reality they are all different people – the men, the women – as varied as all people. But they sure do sound alike. I could swear a lot of these men are married to the same woman. (Maybe this is because the men write about their wives as objects of their own desire and not as people with desires of their own. That’s natural on a blog I suppose.)
Guys, if your sexuality runs towards submission, if that’s a big thing for you, and you’re not married yet, for god’s sake, marry a kinky woman. She doesn’t have to be a dom, but a switch would be nice. Even another submissive will understand how it is to have crazy desires. Your sexuality is not pathetic and the right person will appreciate it, help you grow it, gleefully engage with it, challenge it, nurture it, and cherish it.
If you already married someone who isn’t very kinky, I don’t know what to tell you. Your partner has her own sexuality that might not be compatible with yours. By all means, find out. And then try to proceed in a way that respects your sexuality as well as hers. You both deserve that.
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