Milestone night

Mine came over last night. We were supposed to go out to a kink event but I was so burned out from work that I didn’t wanna get up off the couch, so we stayed in.

I haven’t been feeling much like sadism lately – partly because I’ve been working a lot and am so mentally and physically exhausted that I don’t have the energy, and partly, I think, because I still can’t get my head around the fact that it’s okay. That I can do things to this boy that others would consider sick and awful and he actually likes it.

He’s made it clear many many times that he loves even just sitting around watching movies with me – that I should never feel obligated to dole out sex or play if I don’t really want to. He really wants to be mine to command, and encourages me to really just follow my whims with him and he’s up for whatever. But I did feel a little like I should engage in some play – I see him so seldom, and he’s such a good boy. Maybe I don’t entirely trust his whole “anything you wanna do is fine with me” schtick. Too many guys have been accommodating in the beginning, in order to impress me, and then later it fell by the wayside.

Also, though, as much as I haven’t had any urge for sadism lately, I still missed it. I wanted to want it.

Mine mentioned that he’s never seen a strap-on in person before, so I went and put on my harness and my favourite dick and he immediately fell to his knees and sucked it. Dude has almost no gag reflex. At times I actually held his head by the hair and actively fucked his face and he took it just fine. I’ve always wanted to do that to someone, but most people would probably gag or vomit so I haven’t tried.

Then Mine stood up and we were making out and – just to kind of see how it felt – I slapped him in the face. His eyes immediately went all glassy and steamed-up like most guys’ eyes do when they’re really, really aroused. This, in turn, spurred me to greater heights of slapitude (between kisses). At one point when I reeled back my hand to strike he flinched, which simultaneously made me worry that I was going too far and made me feel even more toppy.

“Did you just flinch away from me?” I asked, perhaps somewhat menacingly, my non-slappy hand still wound up in his hair.

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Do you not want me to slap you?” this was half honest question and half tacit threat that he needed to behave or I wouldn’t give him any more yummy, yummy pain. Seriously, my responses were feeling all confused; I waffled between genuine concern and “how dare you” domly-dom-ness. If I’d thought for sure his flinches came from him for-real disliking what I was doing, the domly shit would have evaporated and this would just have been a straight-up conversation about limits, but as it was…

“No, I do, I do want you to slap me. I like it. But it also hurts.”

“Well that seems pretty silly, doesn’t it? Flinching away from something you want. You’re a silly boy.”

“I won’t flinch again.”

I slapped him a few more times, then segued into punching him in the chest, telegraphing my intentions first by tap-tapping the area with my fist (I do the same thing with my fingers on his face before the first slap – tap-tap-tap-POW. Gives him a chance to opt out if he’s not up to it that day). I hit him hard; harder; I adjusted my body into a boxer’s stance and he sort of put his arms out to the side a bit to display his torso for my hitting pleasure, showing me that he was ready for me to punch him in earnest. Which I did. Until I realized his inarticulate sounds had turned to “Ow!” which is what he does when something is beginning to be too much.

“Do you need me to ease up?” I asked.

He nodded. He looked like he was about to cry – which is not inherently a bad thing, as he usually has a stress-release cry after I’ve hurt him for a while; crying is the thing he’s aiming for out of these sessions. But I wanted him to know that I was there to support him emotionally in whatever he was going through. I kissed him, caressed his face, looked into his eyes. I whispered “I’ve got you” like you’d say to someone who almost fell from a scary height but you caught them.

Mine held my gaze and whispered back “I know.” Even with his eyes full of tears, his expression was one of absolute faith and trust. And I felt so close to him. There are no words.

The violence trailed off into just making out. Then he asked if I’d like to peg him, and I said technically yes but I was really wiped out from work and pegging would be hard on my muscles. He said “I’ll do all the work” and I suddenly remembered – derp – I could be on the bottom. He could ride me. So he did.

And ohhhhh god the second he got situated it was like my strap-on cock lit him up from the inside. He said the most delicious things – that he loved my cock, that I filled him up, that the way I fucked him was incredible. His extreme-arousal-face looks a lot like most people’s blindsided-by-a-hurtful-comment-face, which suits me just fine. I used to jerk off to movie scenes in which hot guys were blindsided by a hurtful comment. It’s a facial expression that gets my motor running. He looked so vulnerable that it was almost hard to look at him.

He asked permission to touch himself. I said yes – come on me and then lick it up. So he started jerking off. And as much as my intention had been to simply lie back and watch the show, I couldn’t resist pushing back at him at least a little bit – which made him moan even harder, as I’d suspected it might.

When he finally came, he went still; I suspected this was more paralysis than choice and that continued prostate stimulation might wring more pleasure out of him. So I braced my heels against the mattress, wrapped my hands around his hips and fucked upward into him as hard and fast as I could, and yeah. It jump-started his sounds from moans to howls. Fuuuuuck so hot. And once again he came absolute buckets.

Eventually he dismounted, removed the cock from my harness, and went to the bathroom and washed it for me. Then he came back and took the harness off me and we snuggled.

As we lay there in each other’s arms, he asked “So, you don’t think it’s weird, what I said last time I was over?” He meant telling me he was falling for me. He was still nervous that saying it so soon might have spooked me.

“No,” I said. “Not at all.”

A minute or so went by, during which I had a brief, silent debate inside my head. Then I took a deep breath and said “I love you.” You’d think there would have been no emotional risk there, but you know me – I overthink everything. And technically he’d said he might be starting to fall for me, not that he loved me, so maybe this would be too much and catch him off guard and make things awkward and blah blah blah. But fuck it.

Mine got a huge grin on his face. “That’s nice,” he said. I know that wording sounds condescending or dismissive but his tone was pure gratefulness and pleasure. He wrapped his arms around me tighter and said “I love you” back.

Once the seal was broken, he said it a bunch more times throughout the evening and the next morning, too. And holy shit I can’t even tell you how good it felt to have a partner express himself so openly, and to be able to express myself openly in saying it back.

And I do love him. Not just cat love, this time; something closer to being struck by lightning. We felt it hit the first time we met, when I beat him at that play party, but we both figured we didn’t really know each other, it was probably mostly just brain chemistry fucking with our feelings, etc. etc. But the more we learn about each other, the better things seem to be getting.

Sooooooo yeah.

Also, he asked if he could refer to me as his girlfriend, and I said yes. And he asked if I’d like him to be monogamous to me – at least where other women are concerned – while I continue basically doing whatever or whomever I want. I said yes, let’s try that; we can always renegotiate it later. There’s a certain romantic appeal, to me, in the idea of having a sub who’s committed to me while I remain free to roam – and when I asked whether Mine was offering this deal for my sake or because he was interested in it, he said both, so I think perhaps the idea is appealing to him, too. So we’ll see how that plays out.

I’m still feeling sort of guarded. Last night I opted not to try for any orgasms of my own, for instance; perhaps my emotional reticence has shifted around and become physical reticence. I’m fairly confident that everything will straighten itself out with time.

19 Comments

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19 responses to “Milestone night

  1. I’d love to leave a “good on ya!” type of comment, but I’m too damn tired. Being this jealous of someone… I mean, being this happy for someone really takes it out of me. I’m going to go lie down…

    (Good on you. 🙂 It sounds fucking amazing!)

  2. Andy

    I feel I should tell you that last night, I had a dream where you were jumping up and down on Yours’ ass but then you had to stop because you had to go cook grits. Yes, grits. That is all.

  3. Max

    Hey, I’m also an art model, but of the extremely exhibitionistic variety. I’m 29, enjoy being submissive, and your blog makes me horny. Would you like to talk?

    • I get the feeling you’re looking for free cybersex, and that is not a service I provide.

      • Max

        I’m looking for an interesting conversation with a like-minded person, which may or may not be arousing to me, depending on what you say. But if you feel that is beneath you somehow, that’s fine. I don’t have a lot of tolerance for the general man-hating dismissiveness that is common in sexual conversations with women over the internet, though, so if that’s going to be a part of the conversation I am less interested.

        • I don’t have a lot of tolerance for the general man-hating dismissiveness that is common in sexual conversations with women over the internet, though, so if that’s going to be a part of the conversation I am less interested.

          Well, since I’ve explicitly said that I won’t be having any sexual conversations with you, you’ve been spared of the chance for me to be man-hating or dismissive during one.

          So that works out okay.

        • Also:

          I’m looking for an interesting conversation with a like-minded person, which may or may not be arousing to me, depending on what you say.

          This blog has over a thousand posts, right out there in public, that you could have comment on – and I do generally enjoy discussing things with my commenters, whatever gender they may identify as. If you wanted an “interesting conversation” you’ve had literally a thousand opportunities to start one.

          But when you ignore everything I’ve said for the past four years here and skip straight to “your blog makes me horny! Here’s my email address!” – sorry, I call bullshit. These are not the actions of a person who wants not-cybersex.

          • Max

            Okay, you can call bullshit. I think it’s pretty snobby to suggest that I read your blog and comment on it as a form of conversation. You could read my blog just as easily.

            You didn’t say you don’t want to have a sexual conversation, you said you don’t want to have cyber sex, which to me is quite different,

            Anyway, if you don’t want to talk to me, I get it, no further explanation necessary.

            • I think it’s pretty snobby to suggest that I read your blog and comment on it as a form of conversation. You could read my blog just as easily.

              And I would know that you have a blog because……….?

              • Max

                You have my name and google.

                My point was that instead of referring me to stuff you’ve already written, you could have just been friendly.

                • And my point is that I do not think you understand how conversation works. You’re the one who wants to talk to me, dude. This means you need to do the legwork – like by posing an actual discussion topic or at the very least linking me to your blog. Just saying “YOU’RE NEAT LET’S TALK” forces me to do homework just to decide if I even want to get to know you.

                  Also, I hate to break it to you, but “your blog makes me horny” is not enough to make me go “OMG I MUST KNOW MORE ABOUT THIS MAN” and scour Google for more info about you. Although I’m sure Googling the name “max” would bring you right up, because nobody on the internet has ever gone by that name ever. So at least you’re not expecting me to be so totally intrigued that I make you horny that I’ll sift through pages and pages of results hoping to find you. Because that would clearly be ludicrous.

                  Other people, meanwhile, give me things to actually talk about – usually by commenting on my posts – and many of them have their own writings linked to their username. So I can be like “Oooh, this person said an insightful thing – and they have a blog of their own! I’m gonna go check that out!” And then sometimes we become email friends or – in one case where location worked out – meatspace friends.

                  See how that works?

                  • Max

                    Yes, I see that you, like many women, want men to do an absurd amount of work when approaching you. If someone commented on my blog that I turn them on and they’re an art model, I would talk to them. Not that you aren’t talking to me–but instead of talking about anything interesting, you’re lecturing me about how to meet people, a skill which I already possess.

                    • Yes, I see that you, like many women, want men to do an absurd amount of work when approaching you.

                      Yeah, because asking me a simple damn question to get the conversational ball rolling is soooooo muuuuuch woooooork.

                      Somebody call the WAHmbulance! The concept of holding up his half of a conversation is giving this man some kind of seizure!

                    • Max

                      I asked if you wanted to talk privately. That is a question.

                    • If someone commented on my blog that I turn them on and they’re an art model, I would talk to them.

                      I’m guessing that’s because it’s sort of a novelty to have someone of the opposite sex tell you that you turn them on.

                      I get bombarded by that shit all day long, son. Takes more than a boner to capture my attention.

                • …Oh right, your email addy incorporates your last name as well. Let’s see what that brings up…

                  …A bunch of photos of you. No blog of yours, I don’t think, unless that “manly vigour” one is yours. No substantial writings anywhere, at least not on the first page of results.

                  So, even doing the “homework” has yielded nothing much to talk about – I haven’t found anything to tell me about you as a person, beyond I guess “enjoys being photographed coming out of swimming pools.”

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