I have dabbled in kink. I’ve sprinkled little pinches of it into my sex life: a whip here, a rope there, maybe a bit of voyeurism…
Last night was about ten degrees removed from anything I’d tried so far.
Backtracking by 6 days: I met A. for the first time in person a week ago — just an hour or two over coffee. My expectations were at the same time exceeded and undershot.
He was shorter than I’d envisioned, and a bit more soft spoken. And I was reminded just how much older 47 is than 24.
But overall, I was put at ease by his demeanor. He listened intently, he discussed both sexual and non-sexual topics in a straightforward and unabashed way, and I could tell he had no problem — in fact seemed to relish the idea of — gently walking someone less experienced through the process. A. comes across as just a very kind soul. I liked that.
In what I assume was an effort to confirm his trustworthiness, he opened up his wallet and pointed out his ID (cool, thanks), his business card (great), and a photo of his kids (ummm…huh. Should I feel better or worse about this? I was unaware that he had children.) Despite this, and despite the fact that A. is not quite the type of guy I’d gravitate to at a bar, I left our coffee date feeling intrigued, giddy, and determined to try this out at least once.
I guess I am just going to have to see whether intense physical attraction is something I’m willing to cede in exchange for A.’s aptitude for being a Dom. I definitely feel some level of attraction, I just hoped it would be more. Is this realistic? Should I be holding out for someone who has all of A.’s qualities plus a 6-foot stature and sexy jawline?
Ah, well. I can always return to that question. For the time being, I chose to let myself sample some of these kinky talents that A. is oh-so-confident in. We set aside a night in our calendars, and A. booked a hotel room. (And yes, I gave all of the information to a safe-call person. Thanks to Yingtai for emphasizing this 🙂 )
Oh boy. This is happening.
It was at this point, about two days before the big reveal, that I began to feel the inevitable nerves. Frankly, I’m surprised at how cool and collected I’d been in the weeks leading up to it. Insecurity is not something I would typically disclose up-front to a guy, but because A. had told me repeatedly to always be honest about where my head’s at, I did.
“I just hope you know that I’m nervous,” I said, “and I don’t want to feel as if I’m walking into the lion’s den blind. It’s not so much the actual activities that make me nervous, it’s just the idea of being suddenly very naked and vulnerable and intimate with a man I just met.”
We were not going to be having sex this time, I also told him. That would be too much for me. According to his response, A. had been planning to hold off on sex as well. As usual, he put me at ease, emphasizing that at any point I can ask him to slow down, change what we are doing, or stop altogether. On the topic of safe-words, he had this to say:
“Believe it or not, I’ve never had a safe word with any of my subs. I’m not against them per se, and I always offer one just in case, I’ve just never had the need for it.
One reason is that I listen and and pay VERY close attention. I’ll normally ask repeatedly if they are okay, and slow down or stop if I think it’s getting to be too much. I’ve found subs can sometimes get so into something they don’t even realize how close they are to the edge, so I’m very mindful of that.
I’m also a big believer that words like no and stop mean exactly that. I know some girls like the forced fantasy, and get off on pleading to stop when that’s the last thing they want, but so far that hasn’t applied to any of my subs. If you are into that, then I’ll be the first one to insist on a safe word.”
It’s openness and reassurance like this that makes me inclined to give A. a try despite him not being quite my physical ‘type.’ Maybe I need a little more coddling than the average sub, I don’t know. But, hey, it’s my first time.
Now back to the program.
A. was going to be coming in from a business flight. He instructed me to check into the hotel first and, upon receiving a text that his flight landed, touch myself for at least 10 minutes. I was to have all my clothing put away and be waiting for him in only a towel.
So there I was… sitting on the edge of a beautiful king-sized bed, nervously picking at my nails… smoothing out the little terrycloth fibers on my towel. What was I supposed to say when A. walked in the door? “How was your flight?” “Where do you want me”? Or maybe nothing at all? I practiced my sultry smile in the mirror a few times before face-palming and realizing that I’d just be following A.’s lead anyway.
Oh shit– the door is unlocking. Wait, maybe not. Whoever’s on the other side seems to be having trouble with the lock. They knock twice. I hold onto my towel, scurry over to the peephole, and see…the side of someone’s head. His head? Oh fuck, it is. Better open the door…
I’m realizing this adventure will need to be split into two posts. Here’s an Intermission. All juicy bits forthcoming.