Casting a line, hoping to get dragged out to sea.

“The fun part of denial is that the more you want to cum, the more your subconscious will churn on the fact that this most intimate of body parts no longer belongs to you, but to someone else.”

I’m bundled up in bed in the middle of the night, hungrily reading through my texts from a 47-year-old married man who is potentially to be my Dom. Yes, we are talking the full-on BDSM Master/slave type of Dom. Holy fuck. How did I get here…

Less than a week ago, the flame of kink curiosity was rekindled by a text from my old Craigslist girl, and I ventured back online. For the past 6 months or so after my adventure with the couple, I have been focusing on school, casually dating, and occupying myself with a Friends With Benefits situation with my 34-year-old male roommate. Oh, and while we’re on the subject of my roommate, I might as well add…

Anal sex

I am also currently at the make-or-break point with a very nice guy with whom I’ve been on about 5 dates. Perhaps a second reason I started thinking about kink again was that my last couple of dates with him have been a bit subdued and tame. Seems like, if I subconsciously feel myself swinging too far in one direction, I start heading in the opposite direction for fear of getting stuck.

Is “taediaphobia” a thing? No? Can I make it one?

I got little tastes of many kinks while playing with my Craigslist couple (group sex, masochism, lesbianism, exhibitionism, etc.), but the one I had really wanted to explore more was submission. I found myself getting really aroused when I was instructed to do certain tasks, or made vulnerable and had things done to me. Bondage helps create that vulnerability. There was something so intensely exciting about being tied down with my legs spread, my body completely exposed, my pussy wet and ready for whatever my partners decided they wanted to do with it. Even if they did nothing, the anticipation alone got me just a few steps away from an orgasm.

Pretending to be naively afraid of what was about to come made me dripping wet -- even if this "character choice" was just going on in my own head.

Pretending to be naively afraid of what was about to come made me dripping wet — even if this “character choice” was just going on in my own head.

So here is what went down: Like any hormonal kid with a question about sex, I turned to the omniscient Google. I typed in BDSM forums and eventually found my way to a bondage site that had a space for personal ads. The first profile snippet I was drawn to belonged to an athletic, well-spoken, 47-year-old man who had plenty of experience being a Dom. I will refer to him as A. What I liked about A.’s profile was how he described his philosophy and approach to Dom/sub relationships. He is not a sadist (good, because I am not aroused by intense pain), he stressed the importance of respect and communication (there’s no way I could trust someone who didn’t), and he is experienced (I am looking for someone to expose me to new ideas, guide me to finding my boundaries, and handle me expertly). He also mentioned an interest in, down the road, potentially including his wife as a second dominant, an idea to which I’m open since I so enjoyed my 2f/1m threesomes before.

…So I sent A. a message.

The age gap is pretty crazy. I am 24. That’s a 23 year difference. The oldest person I have slept with has been my roommate, who is 10 years my senior. It’s something I will have to decide on when I meet A. I did find his photo attractive, even though he’s not someone I’d typically go for in the regular dating world. And like I said, he looks to be very fit.

Boy, that Woody Allen is such a hunk. Lucky girl…

(To clarify, I do NOT want to dive into some 24/7 lifestyle situation, and neither does A. I realize that plenty of lovely little fellow perverts spend their entire day serving their Dom. Their Dom is their life, and they never break from character. Not for me. There are so many other pieces of my life I am absolutely not willing to sacrifice for a BDSM lifestyle. I am committed to my Masters program, to spending time with my friends and family, to my job, to my own hobbies and interests. Perhaps even more importantly, I need to have portions of my life in which I do hold power. Compartmentalization is what I’m going for right now…A break from real life.)

After about 5 emails discussing experience, preferences, etc., A. and I set up a coffee date to see if we click. We have been texting over the weekend, and he asked me if I was up for a little challenge between now and our meeting.

You’ll have to elaborate, I said.

I am thinking orgasm control, the first stage of which is denial, he responded. If things go well when we meet, I will give you permission for some Friday night relief. (If it doesn’t, you’d just give yourself permission.)

A little smile cracked on my face, and I knew this was a challenge I was going to have to accept. An aside: I have found that sex can be a bit like theater improv, in that all the players have to buy into the scene for it to work. If you aren’t loving the direction it’s going, you just call a scene change, but you never just frown and say, “Nah” without being committed and enthusiastic about a different option. Regardless, orgasm control is a scene that I like, so I’m not trying to change it at all.

Orgasm control (denial of masturbation)

And A. is right. Knowing that I can’t pleasure myself makes me want to even more. When I think about, my clit throbs a little and begs me to touch it.

This is going to be a long 5 days.


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