Secret Confessions of a Smart Girl

I spent approximately 36 of the last 42 hours naked in bed with the guy I’ve been dating*. Knowing that there was an imminent snow storm, I arrived at his apartment two nights ago, declared “it’s a snow day! You’re stuck with me!” took off my clothes, and accosted him.

He didn’t seem to mind.

It’s a good thing that we’re both “dog people,” by which I mean that we’re the sort of people who will take any opportunity to get as much physical contact with those we care for as is geometrically possible (… as opposed to “cat people” who like to lie and pose just out of reach, then make you work for the attention.) That meant that, even when the two of us were working on our laptops, there were always entwined limbs. When he was working and I was uninspired, I’d just cuddle up next to him, skin to skin from shoulders to toes, and think while he typed… or nuzzle him. It’s hard not to be distracting when there’s a naked person next to you and you want your hands on them. I’d be writing and have a dirty thought, and I’d have to twist around underneath him to kiss him senseless before I could get back to work.

We had lots of sex**, or at least lots of heavy petting, with ridiculous quantities of making out and a few interludes for nourishment, work, and chatting. At some point I got a text message from my mother asking me how the roads were up by where I was, and I realized that I didn’t know if it was snowing. I also pretty much didn’t care.

As it turned out, there actually was snow. I just didn’t bother to check until I’d spent almost 24 hours in sybaritic bliss, because even if there wasn’t I was still going to enjoy my snow day.
–
* i.e. shmoopy boy

**Man is shmoopy-boy incredibly good in bed. I kind of covered him in bite marks, and only some of them were voluntary. Fortunately he sees marks in the same way as I do - “souvenirs of you.” *sigh* I like him A LOT.

I slowly swam up to consciousness with the feeling of a mouth on the back of my neck and the hand that had been wrapped around my body moving between my legs.

I must have turned my head, or moaned, because I heard his voice softly next to my ear, “Oh good. You’re awake,” as he moved my leg and slipped himself inside.

Gentle, and then not so gentle, as we moved in the slow, twilight realm between sleep and awake. His hand left bruises on my hips; my arm wrapped backwards around his neck and tangled in his hair. I silently begged.

Tension. My spine bowed to push my lower body more tightly against him. His teeth buried in my shoulder and his fingers pressed deep into the muscles beneath my skin. Explosion. Release.

Now, lying here, skin to skin, still entangled, wrapped in his heat, breath on my neck, possessive hand around my waist, I start to slip back down, down, down to the land of dreams. Stillness overtakes me and my eyes that opened so recently in pleasure close once again in sleep.

I don’t have to get up for hours.
–
I had another really good date this weekend, with the same person who has inspired quite a few recent posts. I think it’s made me sappy. Just to feel more like myself I will mention that a dominant female friend of mine gives whole new meaning to the phrase “scary pregnant lady.” She’s violent even without the hormones, but with the hormones…. Whee! She derailed my productivity entirely last night by describing how she wanted to cut me again, and then fuck me with a knife with another one at my throat. It was very hard to resist jumping in a car and driving up to see her right then. I want to suffer, scream, and bleed… maybe in a few weeks.

This weekend I went to a BDSM conference. It is not the first time I have attended this conference, but it is the first time I have been there in at least 5 years. (I think I had a day pass in 2002 when I was moving, but the last time I actually attended the whole thing was 1998.) I had a blast. I managed to play a lot, meet some people I had really looked forward to meeting, see some old friends I had lost touch with, rediscover my inner switch, and be instructed in some more of the art of vanilla sex.

Yes, you read that right. I leave the state to revel in the depths of my kinkiness and end up doing some serious exploration of the vanilla. As I’ve mentioned in the past, vanilla is a somewhat novel flavor for me. I was kinky long before I was sexual, and it was only recently that I had truly vanilla sex for the first time. So, this weekend, in addition to getting soundly beaten, and thoroughly and enjoyably abused (more about this later), I got a bit of a vanilla tour. Vanilla, after all, isn’t a single flavor. There’s vanilla bean, french vanilla, vanilla vanilla, and the vile Tofutti substitute that I tried once a few years ago and will henceforth avoid like the plague. As it turns out, in general, I like vanilla. I suspect I will never be as satisfied with it as with pistachio, or other more edgy flavors, but it’s not a bad taste at all, and I often wake up with an overwhelming desire for a cone. Now if only I could find a good local ice cream store…

My primary rediscovery of this weekend is that it’s a good thing to be in touch with your buttons. If you know what they are, and make a reasonable attempt at expressing them clearly, there is a far better chance that they will be pushed. Repeatedly. With intensely satisfying results.

After this weekend, I feel like I have to annotate the past two weeks of this blog. Among other things, I’ve now had (and enjoyed! Go figure!) vanilla sex with a man (who will henceforth be known as The Defender of Vanilla Sex - TDoVS), and discovered why people like sleeping with their friends. It’s so bizarre, for me, to have had a sexual experience that induced absolutely no stress or regret. It was just fun… and then rather insanely button pushingly hot. Plus, there were interludes of hysterical laughter. I am a big fan of hysterical laughter in the bedroom. As long as no one falls out of the bed, hits a body part on a solid piece of furniture, or gets head bonked in the eye.

I think the lack of stress falls solidly on the openness of communication. It seems obvious that being open and up front about things makes things easier, but it is often extremely difficult for me to do so when it comes to sexual issues. With TDoVS, however, I have absolutely no problems being completely up front since we’ve discussed pretty much everything under the sun. I am going to take this as an object lesson. Before sleeping with someone, I need to have multiple frank conversations about sex so that there is no awkwardness about expressing myself in the heat of the moment. Or at least no awkwardness that isn’t related to my brain having been befuddled by desire.

It was a good weekend for connections. I saw a lot of old friends, made some new friends, had some good play time (which I will talk about in a later post), and now have an official play date for BRXX to hook up with the person in Boston who I had really wanted to try and play with this weekend (who was not the person I did play with this weekend, or the person I rather thought I might get a chance to play with this weekend… or… lets just say that my life so doesn’t suck right now.) I also saw someone who I have half-heartedly been crushing on for a few years, and discovered that the main reason I haven’t even made an attempt to do something about it is essentially invalid. So… there are things to be considered there as well (and no, that person isn’t any of the people from the first sentence. Complex much, life?) All things considered, I rate the entire 3 days an A+. It really should only get an A-, but I’m willfully blocking the several hideous hours I spent on the Trolley From Hell out of my brain in order to reorder the universe to my personal satisfaction.

I’ve turned once again to the online personals in search of a partner with whom I can find love, passion, friendship, and hopefully future small people. I’m always torn on these sites as to how much I should reveal about my sexuality, and when. On one hand, sexuality is only one component of forming a successful relationship. On the other hand, it’s an essential one. So, once again, I find myself struggling with the question “Could I be content in an entirely vanilla relationship?”

Kink is central to my sexuality. I was active as a masochist in the BDSM community long before I became sexually active. I lost my virginity in a kinky bisexual threesome, and with those two individuals I experienced all of my sexual firsts (oral sex, intercourse, etc.) to date. I don’t know if I’ve ever had vanilla sex with a man, I’ve had some very fun vanilla fooling around, which was encouraging, but there were limits. Limits off, however, even when pain wasn’t explicitly involved, there has always been an element of power exchange when I’ve had sex with men. And, it was only recently that I had my first vanilla sexual experience with a woman. It disturbs me that it was… unexciting. Now it could certainly have just not been terribly good sex, it’s certainly a possibility, but it brought the primary question of this post back into the foreground.

I recently joined Chemistry.com. Admittedly, I did this with some reservations, because I had had some long discussions with Helen Fisher when she first developed the site, and it felt weird to then become a member. That, however, is largely irrelevant. I bring it up, because it’s the first site, in recent memory, where my profile doesn’t at least hint at my kinkyness. So I wonder, as I go through the matching process with a series of vaguely interesting men, when do I mention it? And, if the reaction is uninterested, how much of a chance do I give things? I don’t sleep around a lot (I play around a lot, but I separate the two.) I suppose I go out on a couple of dates and see how things work out. If I’m interested enough to want to sleep with someone then… we’ll see how things go. I’m not going to lie about it though. Although it’s much harder to be open about it than it is about my bisexuality, I’m not willing to be involved with someone who is going to judge me on either.

I suppose it’s a question of priorities. My top priority is clear, I want children. If necessary though, I can do that on my own. I’d much rather have kids with a partner, but I’ve accepted the possibility that that may not be in the cards. So, how much do I care about sex and kink? Honestly, I’d rather give up the first than the second. I’ve gone without sex for extended periods before, and although I’ve missed it, I’ve missed kink when I’ve had to give it up a lot more. That having been said, if I found someone who gave me everything else I want in a relationship - love, friendship, companionship, support - I could probably live without it. Or, at least, live without doing it with other people. I’d be disappointed though.

All things considered, given my past choices, I know I’m not likely to compromise. Given a choice between being happy on my own, and unhappy in a relationship, I’ll always choose the first. Is lack of kinky sex enough to make me unhappy, though? That I do not know. Maybe I won’t need to find out.