Saturday, January 23, 2010

The Incredible Busyness

So in the past week, I've been up to my ears in new classes and have generally had no time to write. On top of that, my next blog post will feature me in a submissive role (super sexy, I assure you) and that's not something I quite know how to write about yet. So in the meantime, I'm going to talk about time.

Time is an odd thing. It's elastic, in that an hour can stretch out to last an eternity and twelve hours can pass in a blur and leave you saying "You have to go? So soon?" Time has been running oddly for me since I got back to school. I'm constantly exhausted for no particular reason and can't remember why, until I realize that I've been up for at least 18 hours and it's really time that I was sleeping again. Tim's schedule runs almost diametrically opposed to mine, so that as soon as I'm ready to sit down and relax, he's packing his things to head to work.

Hopefully soon the gods of Time will line up and give me what I need, which is a little more stretchy time. Blocks of time where I can sit down and write, or actually have a conversation with my boyfriend that doesn't end in one of us saying "I've got to sleep" or "I've got to leave." Time to go and buy some textbooks, and get out to the store and pick out some new socks.

I have it much better than my roommate, of course. She's working 40 hours, taking classes full time, and she just bought a dog. But right now, and for the next week or so, it feels like there's simply no time for anything but collapsing into sleep.

Monday, January 18, 2010

Baby's First Fetish Gathering

So on Saturday night, I went to my first-ever fetish club. A good friend of mine isn't particularly kinky, but he has a membership because he's realized that it's a great place to meet nerdy women (further discussion of the overlap between nerds and kinksters can be found on Mistress Matisse's blog.) I was, of course, there to meet kinky people, talk some shop, and maybe get to watch someone play. I've always been interested in public play (something Tim is NOT into) and so this was my chance to see a little of that.

Well, for a first impression, I think I did okay. Especially since I think I got hit on by at least four different people, most of whom are part of this sprawling polyamorous family. I met Jack, easily the world's most charming and handsome trans man, who apparently grew up going to the same comic book shop I did.

And I got to watch a guy get whipped, flogged, and paddled. Of course, I also got to watch him pass out from low blood sugar.

What I noticed when this man hit the ground was this: instantly, he had six or seven people at his side, lifting him, checking his breathing, getting him orange juice from the bar and a plate of cheese fries. His dominant, a woman in a floor-length red dress, sat him down and held him and told him that if he was going to diet (which apparently he was) he needed to actually eat, and he needed to warn her before he got to the point of fainting.

And then of course there were the people rushing in to assure me, the new kid in town, that this was not at all normal and that the man would be fine and that I shouldn't worry about this happening to me. I'd say that about 90% of the people there were personable, charming, and fascinating. Although they all seemed to be under the impression that I was very submissive. Maybe I'm just shy.

The only thing I didn't like about the evening was this pushy older woman who tried to convince me to bring Tim inside when he came to pick me up. She followed me outside, and when I told her that he was incredibly shy and wouldn't want to come in, she asked if she could at least talk to him. So when he pulled up at the curb she got INTO THE CAR, kissed him, and basically got all up in his spot.

I'm angry at this woman for a variety of reasons. First, she didn't listen to me the first time I said no to her. Second, she didn't ask Tim before she touched him, which is a standard rule of politeness in any circle and even more so in the BDSM world. But I'm more upset with myself than with her. I should have been firmer with her, should have told her that she needed to not get in his space, and I didn't. Why? Because I didn't want to be rude. But setting clear physical and mental boundaries is so important in this kind of situation that I feel like an idiot for forgetting it.

Overall, I had a great time. I liked the people. But if I'm going to go back, and if I'm going to try to get involved in this community, I need to teach myself how to say no, how to say it firmly, and how to stick to my guns.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Come v. Cum

All right, I have a confession to make. The word "cum" irritates me to no end.

I know it's meant to distinguish between the action and the substance produced. "I felt myself beginning to come" versus "The cum ran down her upturned face and into her hair." And yet, every time I look at it, I feel like the person who wrote it is illiterate. It sounds like text-speak at best.

And yet, as a word, I have to admire it. "Cum" has seized a position of prominence as a word, becoming widely-used and regarded as the correct word almost simultaneously. Hardly anyone anymore says "The line of white come shot from his member as he gasped out her name." So until the language changes again, perhaps to an even simpler term, I guess that "cum" is here to stay.

As Tim points out, the word "cum" has a nice visceral look to it. It's short, to the point, and is pronounced exactly the way it's spelled. Cum, and words of its ilk, are the wave of the future. As our language becomes more straightforward, more coded and less nuanced, more technical, words like cum may crop up everywhere. And in the name of simplicity and ease of use, I may have to concede.

But I blatantly refuse to say "cumming."

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Being a Long and Unsexy Post on the nature of Reading and Writing

I'm a writer. Or at least, I try to be. At least once a day I pull up a manuscript on my handy dandy computer and stare at it, trying to make more words appear with the sheer power of my mind. Quite often, it works, but there are some days when the amount--and quality--is pretty pathetic.

Right now I'm working on a story idea that I love. And yet, each paragraph is taking me about a year as I look over it and go "no, that's not quite right...maybe if I--huh." It's like pulling your own teeth at the dentist while heavily anesthetized.

I'm thinking that what I may need is more fuel. But what is fuel for a writer? Bagels and coffee? Worry? These usually work for me, but today, not so much. I think what I need is to read more.

There are some horrifying statistics out there on reading. For example, 1/3 of the people who graduate from high school never read a book again. 42% of college graduates don't read after they close their last textbook. While I'm an English major, who's probably going to make reading and writing into some part of my career, I'm worried by the idea that I'll never read just for funsies again.

So I'm reading. I'm easing myself in with a new book by an author I like, and then I'm going to read Water for Elephants, which I understand was written during National Novel Writing Month (always one of my peak periods of productivity. More on that at some point.) After that, I'm wondering what's next. I just finished Beloved by Toni Morrison, which was apparently inspired by Faulkner's writing, so maybe that's a place to go.

How do you choose a book to read for fun? Until this year I had a lot of disdain for reading books for their "literary merit" rather than for sheer enjoyment, but I had an English professor who turned this opinion on its head: who says that literary reading isn't pleasurable, or that fun reading can't be literary? It was so simple that it bowled me over. So, my new quest: to savor difficult books, and look for the complexity in apparently "fun" ones.

Monday, January 11, 2010

On Restraint

So, dear readers, I owe you an apology for not posting for a week. Since last Monday, I've had all kinds of amazing sex and have purchased a face dildo, but the problem with having sex is that you don't have all that much time to write about it.

So today, class, let's talk about restraint.

I don't necessarily mean in the bondage sense, although that's certainly an aspect of it. I'm talking about the tension that is deliberately created between what you want to be doing and what your instincts tell you is acceptable, and the sex acts that grow out of this tension.

I was talking to a friend of mine about bukkake, that thing where a group of men stand around in a circle and masturbate onto the face of a young woman. This friend said that he liked to look at it, but probably couldn't do it in real life because he felt like it was a "passionless" act. I immediately felt myself starting to disagree. Now, normally when this happens it's just because I'm a stubborn contrarian.

But in this case, I spotted something kind of subtle and wonderful about bukkake. It's a symbolic sex act if there ever was one. A crowd of men stands around a woman and covers her in semen, often without touching her. It's a gesture of mass violation that doesn't require any bodily contact. Under the surface is this teeming mass of sexual feelings, concealed under an act that looks impersonal, even offhand (if you'll pardon the pun.) It's the restraint, the NOT turning the act into a gangbang, that makes it so powerful.

And it's fascinating to me that this act, intended to be a symbol for something else, has, in its bottling of intense emotion, become a desire all on its own.

So, what about you, dear reader? Can you think of a situation where the symbol of an act is more satisfying than the act itself? Or where holding off is more exciting than letting go?

Monday, January 4, 2010

What what? (Sexual Content)

So it turns out that when you separate me and Tim for three weeks and we don't get to have sex, when we come back together we do EVERYTHING. In our first 24 hours together we've had sex five times and knocked a whole litany of things off of the List. This afternoon we did a schoolgirl roleplay where I was the good little Catholic girl and he was the dirty headmaster. I told him I was a virgin and he accused me of touching the other girls. It was so wicked and cute at the same time.

My hopes for the evening were pretty specific. Tim is pretty touchy about taking anything up the ass, but it's one of those things that I find incredibly hot. He's pretty much always worried about poop, which I suppose is a valid fear, but today he agreed to let me use some anal beads on him. I think that purchasing him a black face-mounted dildo clinched the deal. (Oh, kinky Christmas gifts...)

After we got back from our sex shop run, after a lot of getting up, going to the bathroom, sitting back down, getting up and getting water, and every other distraction I could think of, I got him naked and curled up behind him under the blankets with my arms around his waist. I got out some anal beads we'd bought a while ago and never used.

"You want to do it like this?" I asked him.

"Yeah," he said. Tentative, nervous. I like that.

I spread his ass cheeks and pushed the first bead inside. This convulsive shiver went through him and I stroked his back, told him how good he was. Then I reached down and did another, and another.

"Stop there for now," he said. He had that tone in his voice that he uses when he's feeling submissive, soft and gentle and sweet. It makes me want to do awful things to him.

I wrapped one arm back around his waist and grabbed his cock with the other. He was rock hard, which normally doesn't happen when I play with his ass.

"Oh my god," I said. "You like this, don't you? You little slut."

"Yes, ma'am," he said. He was gasping; I've never seen anything like it. "Yes, yes. Your little whore."

"Can you take more?"

"I think so."

I slid the next three beads in, and he groaned and rubbed his ass up against me. It turned me on to see him thrashing, grinding, begging, filled up.

I flipped him over and he tried to jerk off but I slapped his hand away.

"No," I said. "I want to fuck you."

"Oh, please," he said. "Please fuck me."

Where's a condom when you need one? I fished around in the sex box and finally came out with one, ripped open the packaging, and unrolled it onto his cock while he thrust his hips up and down. I pulled up my skirt and slid myself down onto him. I hadn't realized until then how wet I was.

Now, in order to fully appreciate what happened next, you should know that while Tim is a brave man, he's been very hesitant about his ass, especially my ultimate hope for it: fucking it with a strap-on--and more than that, he doesn't usually like the idea of gender play. So what happened next was pretty extraordinary.

"Oh, God!" He thrust up into me from underneath. "Oh god, oh--we're going to buy you a strap-on, and you're going to fuck me in the ass, and I'm going to suck your big cock!"

I concur.

Friday, January 1, 2010

The (Second) List Arriveth

This is Tim's list of things to do in 2010. Some of them may have been influenced by talking to me, but I'm kind of surprised by how much they overlap. And I think this proves that he's as inventive as I am, and probably way kinkier--a point of much personal dispute. Enjoy.


Get seduced/sexually distracted away from a game.

Teacher Student role play we did that freaked me out

Sitting in a chair. Why haven't we done that yet?

Prostate milking

Anal sex by both parties (not at the same time)

Clothed female nude male

I want to be a doctor or scientist and get to experiment on you

Rape you

Drug&rape me (alcohol will work for "drug"). Just taken advantage of when I am not all there mentally.

I want to have sex in a field. Like of flowers or wheat or something. Or in a forrest. Either/or

A whole day of you being the dominant one, not limited to sexual or non-sexual. Like a whole day.

Same as above, but opposite roles.

Angry sex. Or simulated angry sex. Something along those lines, I want to try it. This might go in to the whole "me raping you" thing.

Minor suspension bondage. If we can't find a place/way to do this, then we won't worry about it though.

School girl roleplay.

I want to be the dirty uncle/priest/teacher/authority figure

Somebody else watching. Either from a video tape or in the room or something.

Hot wax or hot glue gun

Some sort of interrogation scene.

To be quite honest, just reading this list makes me want to fuck him in at least three of the ways listed all at once. Sunday cannot possibly come fast enough.

The List Arriveth

Ah, the first of the year. The time for epic resolutions, new beginnings, and watching the relationships in my family devolve into petty squabbling over the TV remote. (Seriously, grownups?)

As it is the first of the year, I'm going to post my epic list of things I want to do in bed in the coming year. Other lists may follow soon, including the ten books I want to read in 2010, but this list has been formulating for a long time and gets priority. Greta Christina has a great list over at Blowfish of her sexual resolutions as well. Hers are more broad principles to apply, whereas mine are pretty specific. So without further ado, let me present to you--the list.

1. Sleep with a woman
This has been big on my to-do list since my sophomore year of high school, when I licked birthday cake off of the face of a six foot tall bisexual German Amazon. Now, thanks to Tim, it looks like it may actually happen.

2. Take the submissive role in a teacher-student roleplay

This is something I've wanted to happen for a long time; in fact, it was the first "kinky" thing I ever tried to talk someone into doing with me. It's high time it happened.

3. Fuck, and be fucked, in the ass
Tim and I have been dancing around this for a long time. It's happening, dammit.

4. Be worshiped.

This ought to be fun, in a practically vanilla kind of way. I want to be bathed, pampered, and fussed over, brought grapes and drinks and basically adored, all while being scornful and dismissive myself.

5. Do some medical roleplay
Rubber gloves, sponge baths, and maybe some "tests." Yes.

6. Make a porn.
What more explanation do you need?

7. Get more aggressive with hurting Tim
He can handle more, and I need to stop being such a wuss about it. Included in this is greater psychological suspense. He handled the last scene so well that I think I can definitely push him farther.

8. Get tied up and "molested."
We've played with this a little, but never for more than a few minutes. I'd like at least a half an hour of it.

9. Have semi-public sex of some kind.
A bathroom in a cafe? The pretty secluded roof of the building next to mine? Watch this space for further developments.

10. Go to at least one kinky or fetish event.
I'll probably be doing this one without Tim, because he's a pretty shy and private person, but I want to get out there and meet some other kinky people and see if there's something there for me. A good friend of mine has some contacts he's willing to help me explore.

And that's about it for my list. When Tim gets around to e-mailing me his, it'll go up too. Until then--imaginary readers, feel free to chime in with your lists for the new year, sexual or otherwise.