Such a good Bunny.

The Bunny is just…sweeter and sweeter.

We’d previously discussed the fact that he has a huge thing for stockings – specifically, retro-looking ones with the seam down the back.  I think I must have mentioned that I don’t own any, because a while later he asked me what my preferences/size/etc. would be. He ended up buying me two pairs “as an investment in future sexytimes.”  I like that he sees enough of a future here to spend money, and I like that he’s not sitting around expecting me to spend my hard-earned money in order to satisfy his kink.  I’d secretly been planning on buying some stockings anyway and surprising him with them, but now I don’t have to.  I don’t normally like to wear lingerie for a guy, but I’m willing to for someone who’s obviously keen to cater to my fantasies (which The Bunny is).  Plus he said that stockings are his “Kryptonite” and as a dominant I’m all for having some big shiny buttons to push.

I will say that the stockings did not have the effect I’d hoped.  He gave them to me last time I was over, and I suspected he’d be doing that so I brought my garter belt along.  I wore one of the pairs for most of that evening, and while he clearly enjoyed it, he didn’t get all breathy or distracted or obsessed-looking.  I guess that’s the downside to him being able to carry on respectful, coherent conversations even while aroused (like the time he came to my place to teach me about rope bondage) – he can’t actually turn his respectful presence-of-mind off again.  I can live with that. 🙂

The Bunny has a specific kink for wanting to be forced to suck a woman’s toes while she’s wearing stockings.  He isn’t actually a foot fetishist; I guess the stockings are the fetish and the foot sucking is a humiliation tactic he particularly likes.  I like having my toes sucked on, and like I said I also like it when a sub has buttons to push, so one of the things that happened that night was The Bunny jerking off while I stuffed my foot into his mouth.  But the stockings muffled the sensation of his mouth, and he was taking so long to come that I got bored, and overall it really started feeling like I was catering to him at my own expense.  I quickly switched things up and fucked his ass, instead (which is something we both love) and that made me feel like a participant instead of a service provider.  But it seems I still have some work to do in finding the line between indulging someone else’s needs and sacrificing my own, and in holding my own boundaries.  I’ve been better than this at focusing on what I want even if it meant denying my partner, dammit.  I think I’m having a hard time right now because my relationship with The Bunny hasn’t really been defined.  I actually asked him the other day if he wants to be a sub or a bottom, but he never ended up answering me; it came to light that he defines those terms very differently from me and so we got off on a tangent trying to sort that out.

I think that if he flat-out said he wanted to submit to me, I could then adhere to my own wants – like tell him his jerking off is boring me so he’ll have to stop and pleasure me instead.  As it stands, I like playing with him and worry that if I don’t meet his needs, he’ll drift; if one of his needs turns out to be putting my pleasure before his, then we’re golden.

He abstained from jerking off for me last week, by the way.  I mentioned an interest in orgasm control (via a text conversation on Saturday) and when we made plans to hang out on Wednesday, he said he would abstain until then.  Which was awesome, and made his first orgasm of the night happen in a lot faster and more exciting of a way, so I’d like to do it again.  But, again, I’m not sure what he wants to get out of this, or whether he wants to submit to me or what.  So during his abstinence period I was sometimes teasing and taunting him when I honestly didn’t really feel like it, simply because I have an inkling it’s what he wanted.  I do not like this.  I must get matters straightened out soon.

But anyway, last night The Bunny came out clubbing with me, The Social Worker and TSW’s friend.  I invited The Bunny out with us because he’s said that his dance skills have gotten him mistaken for gay on numerous occasions and I totally had to see this.  I was half-surprised he agreed to come out; his FetLife profile says that he’s unsure about monogamy at this time, but when I asked him if this means he wants to be poly, he seemed unsure and said he thinks he just doesn’t want to be tied down to one person right now; apparently he was living with a partner not that long ago and needs a breather.  So, I pigeonholed him as only being up for a casual dating or FWB situation and nothing more.  And I was always under the impression that casual daters and FWBs conducted themselves in ways designed to keep their arrangement distinct from “real” dating so their partner won’t get the wrong idea.  So, like…no public affection and no hanging out together in a group; actually, probably no hanging out outside the house at all.  Meeting someone’s friends is for people who are dating.  Casual sex partners just stay in and have casual sex.

Hey, okay, I just remembered some other things that reinforced my idea that we’re strictly casual: the fact that our visits have involved watching porn and having sex and not much else (never a regular movie; always porn) and the fact that I once said it was getting late and I should leave before I dozed off or something, and he indicated that yes, that would be a good idea, because he prefers having his bed to himself.

But either The Bunny doesn’t limit his behaviours in that way or he does in fact consider us to be dating, because he seemed quite pleased to come out and meet my friends.  And when TSW wanted to go out for a drink at a pub with more friends before we hit the club, I ended up sandwiched tightly into a booth between TSW and The Bunny, and when I tentatively put my arm around The Bunny he immediately leaned into me a bit and reached up to kind of play with my fingers.  *Swoon.*

And, when I mentioned there’s a particular club I like to go to on Thursday nights but haven’t been to in ages, The Bunny jumped to remind me that his work schedule is Sun-Thurs so he could totally go with me.   I may have been thinking, up to that point, that The Bunny accepted my clubbing invite without actually being keen to hang out in public with me and my friends, somehow (like he blurted out “yes” without thinking and then regretted it, or something?  I don’t know).  But he’s actively campaigning to be in public with me more, so I guess we’re okay.

Oh, this is funny: I mentioned Mr. Potatohead in conversation (long story) and with exaggerated innocence, he said “What’s ‘Mr. Potatohead’?” Because I’m 40 and he’s 27, you see, and he doesn’t know my ancient references.  When I mock-scowled at him, he went “Oh, right – Mr. Potatohead was a character in Toy Story.”  I pinched his cheek and called him a brat.  The whole exchange was uncannily similar to the way Minx and I used to banter*, but not in an offputting deja-vu way; I’m sure plenty of people can have that sort of sense of humour without having any of Minx’s other, less appealing qualities.

Anyhoo.  We finally got to the club.  The Bunny’s mad dance floor skillz totally underwhelmed me; he just did the basic two-step kinda thing most dudes do.  Maybe my particular bar is set a little high, though, because in the goth clubs I frequent, dudes dance using their entire bodies.  There’s a certain amount of prancing.  There are precise and delicate arm movements.  There’s actual twirling.  And the guys  manage (mostly) to do all of this without flailing into any of the other twirling, frolicking people.

Mind you, The Bunny still has a better sense of rhythm than The Social Worker (who actually is gay) and I was happy to be out with a partner who would dance with me.  Sometimes we’d get in close and grind a little bit, which was awkward for me (as it is at least 80% of the time when I grind with a guy).  I never feel like my hips are matching up to a guy’s properly; guys always seem to gyrate at this frenetic crazy speed while I kinda do this languorous swivel thing.  This is not even a euphemism for “I’m trying to dance and they’re flat-out humping me.”  I think it’s that when I dance, I move my pelvis right on one beat of the music and left on the next beat, and dudes tend to add one more little wiggle in the middle or something.  So, the grinding was a little hit-or-miss but still pleasant, and I’m pretty sure I felt The Bunny pitch a tent a few times, which was totally arousing to me.  And he’d kiss me sometimes as we danced.

Sadly, I’ve been quite the insomniac lately so my energy for dancing bottomed out pretty quickly.  I sat out a lot of songs on the sidelines; sometimes The Bunny would continue dancing with TSW & co., but most of the time he’d come join me on one of the padded benches by the wall.  And as we sat there he would actively caress my arm and hand, which is another thing that surprised me and made this feel more like a date than a casual thing: he was enthusiastically giving me pleasure even though we would not be having sex that night.  He was making me feel good for reasons other than fair-and-square reciprocation.   I’m pretty sure he was watching my reactions intently and that his dominant side was kind of getting off on making me go all distant and endorphin-stupid. I don’t care.  I just want the hand and arm-pets.

Because the pub part of the evening took so damn long and I still wanted to be able to dance for a few  hours, The Bunny and I ended up leaving the club at closing time – like 2 or 3am or something.  Our respective homes are in opposite directions; I proposed that keep me company at my bus stop and if we saw his coming first, he could run across the street and get it.  At one point he asked me if I was cold; I said no, I was okay, but he pointed out that my upper chest was goosebumpy.  Then he zipped my hoodie up a bit higher so the goosebumps were snugly covered.  The gesture reminded me of my mom kneeling in front of me to do up my winter coat when I was a kid – making sure my mittens-on-a-string had been threaded through the sleeves first, of course.  You’d think feeling parented would be antithetical to romance or attraction, but I love feeling taken care of so this gesture made me want to swoon a little bit.

Then The Bunny announced that he was going to give me some money and put me in a cab.  I’m not accustomed to people paying for stuff for me, and it tends to make me feel awkward – mostly because my parents were suuuuper cheap when I was growing up, and I picked that up from them, so spending unnecessary money seems like a huge sacrifice to me.  Like, if you had a few good dates with someone and on your latest date they revealed they’d gotten a tattoo of your name?  That’s what this cab thing felt like to me.  And I wondered whether he was only doing it because he felt obligated to stay with me until the bus came (a woman out at night, blah blah blah) and he was getting cold and wanted to go home.

So I protested that I’d be fine – the neighbourhood felt pretty safe and everything, so if his bus came first he could totally go and it was okay.  And he said it wasn’t about safety, it was about time – I’d get home a lot faster in a cab.  He seemed to be indicating that he wasn’t offering cab fare because he was feeling obligated to stick around; he was offering it because he wanted me to be comfortable and not have to wait around in the cold, with or without him.  And I realized that for people who weren’t raised by my parents – and who currently have stable, full-time employment – $20 is maybe not that big a deal.  And also, fuck it, it would be nice to be able to go straight home without waiting for a bus and then biding my time while it stops every few minutes to let people on and off.  And I think in the past I’ve been so self-conscious about receiving kindness from guys that I’ve talked them right out of it, permanently, and then regretted it.  And so, after five minutes or so of hemming and hawing and craning my neck to scan for an approaching bus to no avail, I took The Bunny up on his kind offer.  Once he hailed the cab he even opened the door for me – which I wasn’t expecting and which was somewhat awkward because I’d already been reaching for the handle and our arms kind of collided.  But I liked it.

I have this dichotomy where I dislike chivalry in general but I like the idea of a sub doing most of the typical chivalrous things for me, specifically.  The fact that The Bunny never offered to pay for anything before (unless you count providing snacks when I visited) but has now bought me stockings and done the cab thing makes me happy – makes me feel like he’s appraised my character and decided I’m awesome enough that he wants to do those things for me.  Had he paid for shit right from the start, I’d feel like it had nothing to do with me; that he’d just been taught to throw money at anything with a vagina.  But this, right now?  Is personalized nice treatment, and therefore awesome.

And have I mentioned that The Bunny texts me every day?  I woke up this afternoon to a text from him asking how I’d slept.  Purrrrr. 🙂  Oh, and I forgot to mention, after the last time I visited him he texted me to thank me for hurting him because it had left him all euphoric.  That makes me super happy.  He’d told me, when we first started talking, that he was interested in seeing what his limits were, pain-wise; but he also said that he doesn’t really feel pain, much.  He just phases it out or whatever.  It didn’t seem like he had any real interest in or enjoyment of pain itself, just a weirdly clinical curiosity about how much he could take (after which, for all I knew, he’d be like “Okay cool, now we can stop doing this because I’ve found out what I wanted to know.”)  But he’s not stoic when I’m biting him; he makes lovely moans.  And he’s posted pics of some of the bruises I’ve given him on FetLife, so I suppose he’s proud of these souvenirs in some capacity.  And now he’s finally told me that he does actually get something out of being hurt.  As much as he says communication is important in kink, I think he has a hard time expressing himself sometimes.  Like either he couldn’t articulate why he wanted to explore masochism with me, or he didn’t even know until it happened.

I definitely need to ascertain whether he’d like to be a sub or just a bottom.  I kind of think things like asking if I’m cold and zipping up my jacket might be his way of trying to serve me, but I want to know for sure; I want to hear him say, directly, that he wants to be in service to me.  It would be fun just topping him but damn, I really hope he wants more.  I think he has a lot of potential.

*Sometimes, when I’d make older pop culture references, Minx would go “I’m sorry, I never took ancient history in school.”  Or if I mentioned that I used to have an album on vinyl, she’d put on a mock-baffled expression and go “Vie…nill?”  I mostly thought this shit was hilarious.  There is an age difference, and it does lead to Minx (or The Bunny) occasionally not knowing what I’m talking about.  I see no need to pussy-foot around this.


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2 responses to “Such a good Bunny.

  1. Vy

    Maybe this is a Canada thing, but I’m 26 and I had plenty of Mr. Potato Head toys growing up (not that I had a collection, but that I had one, and they were present in toy boxes in school, friends had them), and they weren’t vintage either!

    (That said, my spouse is about your age, and we mock each other frequently about our respective edges of the age gap. So there you go.)

    • Thanks! I was wondering whether Mr. Potatohead was actually before his time or not. I kind of thought that toy was still around for a long while, and your comment seems to confirm this (although yeah, maaaybe it’s different in Canada?)

      I mean, clearly The Bunny was being a bitch with his comment, but it wasn’t clear how much of one. 😀

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