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.
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.
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.