:D

Speaking of being smitten by a good sense of humour, The Bunny and I were snuggling and talking the other day and the conversation turned to ancient cultures who were way more knowledgeable about science than one might have expected. The Bunny referred to Stonehenge as “Astrological Druid Funtime” and the phrase sounded to me like a cheesy commercial for a theme park or travelling exhibition, so I started riffing on it: “Astrological Druid Funtime! Astrological Druid Funtime! ASTROLOGICAL DRUID FUNTIME! Come on down! Stare at strategically placed piles of rocks! Rent one of our fabulous ceremonial robes!” or whatever.

I wasn’t sure whether The Bunny got where I was going with that, or just figured I was having a stroke. But then he added, “Sunday. Sunday. SUNDAY!!!!” and I knew he got it.

So that was awesome.

Also, Mine is clearly as infatuated by my weird brain as I am by his. Here is an excerpt from some texting the other day:

Me: I dreamed about you.

Mine: What kind of dream?

Me: You were going on the lam for some reason, and came through my kitchen window so we could have one last night together. Then I think I was arguing that I wanted to come with you. Then some of your friends were standing in my kitchen giving their opinions. And then it turned into an episode of Buffy: the Vampire Slayer. Kinda.

Mine: I would take you and the kitties.

Me: We would of course have to dye the kitties different colours so they wouldn’t blow our cover. Bastardcat would have to wear coloured contacts.

Mine: That’s why I would take you. I never even thought about cat disguises. You’re smart. [Dog] would need a mustache. [Mine has a dog.]

Me: Yes! And maybe some pants. Nobody ever suspects the dog with the pants.

Mine: I love you so much. You had me giggling so much that my sister asked why. She said we’re both weird.

Me: I love you, too. You had me at “cute little dick snag.” :D

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NRE and sex thoughts

I am in the process of falling in love with Mine. He gives me stomach butterflies – even his texts give me stomach butterflies. I daydream about us maybe moving in together one day. I daydream about us being together years from now. I daydream about us celebrating a milestone anniversary by branding his ass.

But when I’m jerking off (which lately is suddenly a fair bit – my AWOL-for-years libido is making a reappearance for no discernible reason, yay!) my thoughts are all about The Bunny.

This is the first time I’ve had two ongoing concurrent sexual partners since being poly. It’s been interesting. I always figured that when it happened, my thoughts and feelings about everyone wouldn’t be exactly the same – I don’t think it’s possible to feel the exact same way about more than one person, anyway, whether the relationships are consecutive or concurrent, romantic or platonic or familial. But it’s still fascinating to observe the specific ways in which everything is settling into place.

A big factor in these particular discrepancies, I think, is that these days when I wank I think of sex, not violence. And PIV in particular is a mainstay of my fantasies, even though it’s not something I do that often in real life. Mine and I have had the most thrilling SM play of my entire life, but have, I think, only done PIV once – and he’s endowed enough that it was a bit of a struggle for me.

The Bunny, though – I adore his cock. It’s uncut and the perfect size and shape to stimulate me without (usually) chafing/irritating me. And even with me only craving PIV maybe once every five visits with him, we’ve still done it a fair bit in the grand scheme of things because we’ve been together for over a year. So I have a large selection of hot Bunny material in my spank bank.

Again. I’m not worried about the fact that I don’t (yet?) have wank fantasies about Mine. These are just observations that I’m writing down because they intrigue me.

Another intriguing thing: I already knew that when my libido gets riled up by one person, it tends to overflow and slosh onto everyone I see*. But apparently emotions do this, too. When I’m fresh off a visit from Mine and feeling all lovey-dovey and blissed out, I find myself feeling extra mushy toward The Bunny, too. I’ve almost blurted out “I love yous” to him when I was still afterglowing from Mine, and I’ve had to bite my tongue because The Bunny and I are not on an I-love-you basis.

* this was a source of great angst for my boyfriends, back when I was monogamous; the happier they made me sexually, the more of a heat-seeking flirt-missile I became with other guys. Which my partner at the time – whoever he was – would mistakenly interpret as me looking to replace him, and much accusation, crankiness, and defensiveness would ensue.

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Like water in the desert

Mine has sheepishly described himself as “touchy-feely” – meaning  both in the sense that he likes to snuggle and in the sense that he is a sayer of mushy things. I wonder why the sheepishness? Is it because society says men are supposed to be more aloof, or has he specifically been mocked for this by a woman he was dating?

As anyone who’s been following my posts for a while will know, I have been seriously lacking mushy words from partners for a rather long time. Seriously. The Bunny doesn’t talk about his feelings even in a clinical way unless I press him. Neither did The Pedant. Minx was good with the I-love-yous but perhaps not so great with compliments or making me feel desired – or maybe I’m just remembering the tail end of our relationship where things were going to shit. That was like two years ago anyway.

Today I texted Mine to say “I miss you.”

He responded with, “I miss you too. I can’t wait to touch and kiss you.”

I just…I can’t even with this. In the best possible way.

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*gigglesnort*

It’s amazing how different Mine comes across to me than he did in the beginning. By which I mean that he’s really shy and quiet, and at first I mistook this for him being uninteresting or not exceptionally smart. Also I wondered whether every meeting we had would be awkward and stilted aside from the bdsm play. I can be chatty, but not usually from a cold start – the other person has to bring it out of me by being chatty themselves. When faced with someone who speaks minimally, I have no idea what the hell to do.

Now that Mine is feeling more comfortable with me, he’s a lot more relaxed and chatty. It’s like our relationship is backwards – falling for each other made it possible to have effortless, spark-filled banter instead of the other way around. I feel triumphant, like I’ve successfully coaxed a wild deer into eating out of my hand. This is a part of himself he must not show to very many people.

Anyway, one of Mine’s emerging facets is his dry sense of humour. It tends to surface at unexpected times and knock me sideways with its awesomeness.

Examples:

I accidentally discovered that Mine has fucking incredible leg muscles. His legs aren’t huge or anything – they just look normal – but he tensed them up one day while jerking off for me and holllllly shit his thighs are like steel. I could feel the individual striations in the muscles. So later,

Me: Good lord, those leg muscles! They are amazing!!!!

Mine: I do a lot of walking.

Me: That…is not going to produce this amount of muscle. Unless…are you dragging a car behind you when you walk?

Mine: Yes. That is exactly what I do. I drag a car.

Okay, you probably had to see his deadpan delivery in order for that one to be funny. But trust me, it was hilarious.

Also:

Me: I bought us a carton of “Madagascar bourbon vanilla” ice cream. Which I can only assume is made from drunken lemurs*.

Mine: That’s my favourite kind of lemur!

And, when we were texting about what we’ll do the next time he visits:

Me: All the snuggles! FOREVER!!! And also I’ll probably touch your penis a whole lot!

Mine: I love having my penis touched!!! How did you know?!?

And when he texted me to tell me he’d be buying a friend’s old iPhone soon to replace the EIGHT YEAR OLD FLIP PHONE he has now:

Me: Oooh, I’ll be able to text you photos!!! …Your brain probably just went to a naked place but in all likelihood I’d be sending photos of the cats and artwork I just made and stuff.

Mine: I’m shocked and appalled that you would think that!

And, speak of the devil, he just sent me a text that made me laugh until I couldn’t breathe. I was telling him how someone once pointed out to me that hymens don’t vanish, they just break – which means that skin is still there somewhere, usually bunched up around the back wall (I think it was one of my awesome commenters here who told me this, actually!). And that I’ve noticed before that there does seem to be a flap of skin on my back wall that dicks snag on the way in and it hurts, so next time he’s here I’d like him to feel around with his fingers to see if I’m right about this. He agreed, and then:

Mine: How do you feel about “cute little dick snag” as a term of endearment for you?

Upon reflection, most of these things are just average-funny, not the height of wit or anything (I would argue that the last one is bitingly hilarious and totally out of left field, though). I think what it is, is that Mine’s level of submission comes spookily close to “doormat” for me – he wants me to dictate what he does with his body (where to shave and how often, whether he’s allowed to come, whether he’s allowed to smoke…), he invites me to tell him what to do any time, including if I have to wake him up to do it, etc. And I am simultaneously thrilled and frightened by this amount of control. I mean I kind of like that he’s willing to put himself so completely in my hands, but if he seems too pliable I’m afraid it’ll kill my attraction (as happened with The Doll). Or at least I worry that he’ll be so eager to please me that he represses his own needs and ends up resentful.

But that sense of humour lets me know he has an edge, and keeps our dealings from being too bland.

Plus of course he has said no to me just often enough that I think I can trust him to have a backbone and defend his boundaries. I think he gives me lots of control because he likes it, not because he thinks he’s supposed to or he’s trying to impress me. At least I hope that’s the case.

“Cute little dick snag.” Ha!

*Because bourbon usually refers to booze, and the movie Madagascar had lemurs in it.

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A blue Christmas.

I did so much modelling work this month that I barely had time to catch my breath – or work out a game plan for December, when my modelling jobs dry up but my art sales go way up. So now I’m scrambling around trying to find craft fairs that are a) cheap to get into b) will probably make me a profit c) the deadline to apply hasn’t passed yet.

There’s one I’ve done for the past two years that runs every weekend in December (so, lots of chances to make money) and fits all my criteria. But I’ve now emailed my application twice over the course of a week and still no word.

JUST TAKE MY FUCKING MONEY DAMMIT.

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So, the monogamy…

I forgot to tell you guys this, but a couple days after Mine suggested he be monogamous to me (while I continue seeing other people) he texted me all like, “So, to be clear, I’m not supposed to do sexual things with other women now, right?”

This of course made me ask what was up. Turns out his ex girlfriend was wanting to come over that night and “talk” and he thought that might be a euphemism for sex (they’ve been intermittently sleeping together since they broke up a year or two ago). Well, obviously he wanted to fuck her or he wouldn’t be asking me to reiterate the precise terms of our agreement, right? If he didn’t wanna fuck her, he’d just, y’know…tell her “no thank you.”

And the hilarious thing is, when Mine volunteered to be monogamous, my first thought was “I’m not sure I want that responsibility.” I really, truly don’t care if he dates or fucks other people (as long as he’s still attentive and devoted with me) and have no interest in enforcing arbitrary rules. I mean what would I do if, at a later point, he expressed that he had a crush on someone else? Tell him “Well, you’d better stop that, Mister! It can’t go anywhere because…uh………..” – it just all felt so contrived. But he’d insisted that he wanted to be monogamous, so I said what the hell.

Here’s the thing: deep inside my brain there’s an eight year old girl in a fairy princess costume who loves the idea of a boy only wanting her and nobody else. I mean, who wouldn’t be flattered by that? But grown-up me understands that people with that sort of romantic tunnel vision are vanishingly rare, and that it’s perfectly normal for people to have multiple attractions etc. I can’t control a guy’s thoughts – I can’t make him want only me – I can only control his actions by telling him not to pursue the other people he does want. And what does that accomplish? Nothing but making him feel frustrated, trapped, and resentful. Plus if romantic access to other people is enough to make a dude vanish from my life, we must not have had much of a connection to start with and I might as well find that out upfront. Plus I hate being arbitrarily restricted to one partner, too. TO THE POLYMOBILE!

When MIne offered to only date/fuck me, and said he wasn’t just saying that for my benefit, I got a glimmer of hope that he’s one of those people who falls for someone and just can’t even think about anyone else in a romantic or sexual way. My inner fairy princess thought she’d finally found Twu Wuv. And when, just days later, he seemed to be trying to weasel out of the agreement he offered to me of his own accord, I was disappointed. I felt hurt that he wanted to fuck someone else – a thing I generally don’t care if a partner of mine does. This in turn made me feel resentful. It’s like Mine somehow managed to manufacture hurt feelings out of thin air. If he hadn’t said anything about eschewing other women, I would’ve been happy for him that he might get to fuck his ex. In fact I was still happy for him, even as I was pissed that he would make an agreement and then almost immediately indicate he wished he hadn’t.

I’m documenting this chain of emotions here because it was so fascinating and unexpected.

Anyway, I told Mine all of the above (via text, as is my wont) and he said he wouldn’t fuck his ex if I didn’t want him to. I was like “BUT THAT’S NOT THE POINT.” We talked in circles for a little bit before he finally got it: it’s not that I didn’t want him to fuck his ex, it’s that I kind of wanted him not to want to. But he clearly does, which is fine, I just needed to adjust my expectations is all.

I asked him why he volunteered to be monogamous to me in the first place. Mine said he was afraid of being expendable, and wanted to offer me something that would make him stand out so I wouldn’t replace him. He said he’s afraid I’ll realize any second now that I can do better. I asked what he thinks he’s missing that I’m gonna run off and find in someone else. He said: good body. Intelligence. Money.

I responded that a) I think he’s hot and smart, so there. And b) my ex husband was a supergenius making six figures, and I left him; Minx had (what I considered at the time) to be a perfect body and I left her. Ultimately, none of that stuff makes for a good relationship all on its own; the love and connection comes from something else. It’s the him-ness of him that’s the core of what we have, not any surface stats like “is smart” or “has a good income.”

And I said that if his ex turned out to want sexytimes, to please go for it with my blessing. Just be sure to adhere to my rule of not orgasming. All his climax are belong to me.

The ex ended up not being in the mood for anything sexual, by the way. But Mine pointed out that if she had, my “You only orgasm with me” rule essentially means that he’s just a tool for women’s pleasure.The only one who can please him is me.

edjz0

So, that fun re-framing of the situation pretty much erased the last of my hurt feelings over him being interested in someone else.

And anyway, it’s not like he’s actively seeking other chick-partners. He just wanted a nostalgia fuck with the woman he was in love with and dating for a third of his life. I really can’t bring myself to be offended by that. And he didn’t cheat on me or even ask to go back on his monogamy agreement; he simply wanted to be sure of where we stood so he’d have a game plan if his ex propositioned him. If I’d said “Yeah, that’s right, no chicks but me” he would simply have adhered to that. I was the one who called him out and said “You clearly don’t want to be monogamous, so don’t.” He behaved in an adult and honourable way as far as I’m concerned.

So we’re good.

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Going places

Preface: I just realized that my current boy, Mine, has a name just one letter off from my ex-partner’s, Minx. This post is about both of them. Read carefully or it’s gonna get confusing. Sorry for picking names that are so close together.

So, back when Minx was in the process of breaking up with me and spouted off a bunch of crazy, paranoid shit about me, it really threw me off my game. Which is to be expected – when the person who should know you better than anyone else says you’re dangerous and abusive, that’s no small thing. But I don’t think I realized just how much I internalized that idea.

Mine lets me play rougher than anyone else ever has. Last night I slapped his face; punched him as hard as I could; bit him; twisted his nipples until he was almost crying. And the vast majority of the time, he enjoyed it – but occasionally he needed to ask me to stop. And every time he said “owwww not quite so hard” or “not there, please” or “I need a break” or even tentatively put his hand up, I…stopped. Immediately and effortlessly, as though a switch had been flipped. I did not resent having to stop. I did not get so drunk on power that I decided to ignore his needs and just do whatever the fuck I wanted. I did not get so immersed in my own happy little sadistic world that I blocked out everything around me including Mine’s words and body language.

I caught myself marveling at the fact that I stopped instantly when asked to, and then I wondered why I should marvel at it because stopping when asked is just common sense, and then I realized it’s because Minx had made me feel like such a dangerous, unpredictable monster that I’d stopped trusting myself. I’d assumed that MInx must have seen something in me that even I wasn’t aware of. Certainly I’d always stopped immediately with her, but also we never played that rough. The rare times she did let me indulge my sadism a bit, I felt like something transformative was about to happen…but never quite got there. I think on some level I started thinking that the burgeoning thing i was feeling was some kind of Jekyll/Hyde werewolf deal, and that Minx sensed this and that’s why she’d always keep such a tight leash on things that I couldn’t quite get there. She knew I would turn into a horrible person and do horrible things. She knew I couldn’t be trusted to go too far.

Mine is teaching me that I’m capable of greater aggression than I’d ever realized, but I’m also a good and trustworthy person. He’s helping me heal a wound I’ve been carrying around for years and giving me more confidence in myself as a dominant. And I’m so, so grateful for that.

I wasn’t wrong about being on the edge of transformation before, mind you. When I’m allowed to let loose, I do wolf out. It’s just that my werewolf is not so much a killer as a golden retriever puppy let loose in a park for the first time – wiggly-happy and reveling in the sudden freedom, but not mean-spirited.

Mine says he’d like to get me to a point where I’m completely unguarded and unafraid and will do absolutely whatever I want to him without second-guessing myself (unless or until he says stop, obvs). I’m not sure that’s possible for me, but I love that he’s such a proactive submissive, communicating well and often and encouraging me to come out of my shell. I trust him more than I’ve ever trusted anyone who’s bottomed to me, and I’m beginning to finally trust myself, as well.

When I’m with him, the whole world seems to open up. This is what I’ve always wanted D/s to be: a journey you take together to brand new places. I always knew on some level that it could feel like this; it’s just that I’ve only experienced such brief, watered-down tastes of it that I’d started to think that other world was a myth or wishful thinking..

You can probably kinda see now why I’m falling in love with this boy.

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