Last night, two things happened that caught me by surprise. The first was that I was reading the blog Sexual Intelligence (http://sexualintelligence.wordpress.com/) and my boyfriend, frying pancakes in the kitchen, asked me what I was up to.
"Sex blogs," I said. "I read them all the time."
"You should write one."
"Eh, I've considered it," I said. "Not enough experience."
"That's a new angle."
We have a lot of conversations like this, like a recent one where I talked him into starting a religion. And so I figured that it wasn't a bad idea, and I'd start it with the new year. Until later that evening he asked me if I'd please do a scene with him later this week. And English major that I am, my first thought was "boy, I wish I had a forum to write about this analytically."
Now, we've both been playing around with various BDSM things for a while. There's been some giggly spankings, light bondage, anal play, and a whole lot of dirty talk. But the last time we tried to do anything like a formal scene was a while ago, and--to put it frankly--he got freaked out and basically curled up in the fetal position. We've been easing our way back into things ever since, and pretty recently we had a semi-serious attempt at a scene that he got through okay.
But this is going to be pretty hardcore. He knows what he wants, this boy: he wants to have his hands tied behind his back and his legs strapped together, and then he wants me to torture and eventually "rape" him. And while I'm absolutely excited, I'm terrified that I'm going to push him over the edge. Of course, we've got a safeword (and we tend to respect the "argh! Stop that!" rule--i.e., if someone's clearly irritated and not into it, you stop.) But he tends to be a pleaser and I'm worried he'll let things get further than he'd like if he thinks it'd spoil my fun to stop.
I got him to give me a clear list of things that are too much, and he rattled off some things I'd never have thought of--messing with his personal possessions, knife play--and I started to feel a little better, since his limits are things that didn't even occur to me, as well as some things that I thought about but figured were pretty much out of the question. It's good to know that we're pretty much on the same page about what's okay.
And so here I am, anxious but on the edge of my seat. And that's not even counting the fact that it's finals week. I'm torn between my desire to ace my exams in the morning and my urge to spend the whole night plotting.
I wonder if I can get ahold of some mini clothespins.
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