(My lovely commenter, code16, helped me recover my post that got lost. Thank you, Code16! And thank you, Just A Slut, for also offering to help. Here’s my post, brought back from the dead:)
My evening with The Doll was nice. I felt neither exceptionally distant nor exceptionally mushy. When we got upstairs I had him don an outfit of my choosing: pink and black stripey over-the-knee socks, pink and black panties, and a slim-fitting (women’s) plain black t-shirt. I went into the kitchen to start dinner cooking while he changed, and when I came back into the living room and saw him standing there all leggy and stripey and narrow and pantied, I literally had to catch my breath.
(Hey, you! You over there, who thinks dominant women get their “power” from being less interested in sex than men are and that women in general aren’t as visually driven as men. Yeah, you. SUCK IT.)
But yeah. I had guessed The Doll’s sizes exactly right…everything fit perfectly. And it’s been a while since I’ve had access to a boy in panties and stripey socks (two of my very favourite things). So I forgot how to breathe for a minute and my heart hammered in my chest and I was honestly just so visually stimulated that I didn’t even know what to do. (A conundrum magnified by the fact that I’m not ready to have sex with him yet…so all this lust has nowhere to really go.)
I slowly and tentatively ran my hands over him, standing there in the living room. Grasped his shoulders so I could turn him around and feel up different areas. Was seized by a sudden wave of violent lust that made me claw his chest and bite the back of his neck as he moaned and pushed his ass against my hips. I turned him back around and we kissed for a while, and then I had to attend to the food on the stove.
When I came back into the room with dinner, The Doll was lounging on the couch. Long-limbed people look especially artistic and interesting when they lounge, in my opinion; he was quite lovely. We watched more of his Red Dwarf DVDs, but I’ll admit there were a couple of episodes I really didn’t follow at all: once we finished eating I got distracted by smacking The Doll’s ass. He’s pretty pale and it was fascinating to watch my red handprint slowly appear on his white skin.
Then I got curious to see how many smacks he could take in a row, so I hauled him down the couch by his legs (he’s so easy to move! Dude’s skeleton is made of balsa wood or something) and then held his ankles in the air with my left hand while wailing on his ass with my right. In-between smacks I would lightly draw my fingernails over the reddening skin, which made him gasp and squirm; the spanking had sensitized him.
By the time I was done spanking him, his ass was radiating heat like a fireplace – and continued to do so for hours afterward (later on, I applied an ice pack to the red areas – as much to make him screech at the temperature contrast as to reduce any pain he might be having. :D)
And there was a bunch of making out, and he massaged and caressed my feet for a wonderfully long time, and when I showed him that I like having the soles of my feet smacked and then skritched (similar to what I did to his ass) he did that for me, too.
As fond as I am of The Doll, I still have no particular sense of meshing with him. We have never, for instance, had one of those effortless conversations that meanders all over the place and before you know it, hours have passed. It’s always just, you know, one of us making a remark and the other responding…and then that topic is usually exhausted so we sit there until someone else comes up with a new thing to say.
So I think The Doll may never be more than a friend with benefits to me. I hope we’re on the same page and there doesn’t end up being an awkward mismatch of feelings. I don’t want to pre-empt possible awkwardness by telling him these feelings outright – he’s not showing any signs of being more attached than I am so the “just so you know, this is probably not going to go anywhere” speech would seem mean and more than a little self-centred.
And also I wonder sometimes whether I’m still too fresh off my breakup with Minx to fall for anyone, but maybe one day down the road my defences will lower and suddenly The Doll will be more of an option. Probably not, but…no need to cut off my nose to spite my face.