Well, Now What?: The Making of a Sexual Bucket List

So, as I was noodling around on Facebook this evening I came across this post from a friend which kind of made me bat my eyelashes in disbelief.  The Sexual Bucket List: 50 Things To Do Sexually Before You Die lists 50 things that the author, a fellow woman, believes to be the “must do’s” of the sexual experience, and while it may be a good start, I’m sorry, but this list needs serious revision.  Some of this stuff is just so vanilla that it’s beyond vanilla.  Don’t get me wrong, I’m a big fan of vanilla sex as you may remember reading (In Praise of Vanilla), but if you’re going to make a sexual “Bucket List”, it had better have some bells and whistles!

First, allow me to go through the author’s sexual bucket list one by one.  I haven’t done all of the things she lists, but it’s kind of surprising what I have vs. what I have not.  Some of the things listed make me think the author had a very difficult time coming up with 50 things to do sexually.  My sexuality isn’t quite so limited in it’s explorations and desires.

  1. Kiss a girl – “I kissed a girl, for the first time, I kissed a girl, and I just might do it again…”
  2. Have anal – Received and given (with fingers and a strap-on for the giving end.  Rest assured, I have no penis. LOL
  3. Have a threesome – Done it (both FFM and MMF)
  4. Engage in group sex – Isn’t this really the same thing?  Ok, so I’ve went up to 4, how’s that for a group?
  5. Have phone sex – Done it.  Phone sex always makes me a little nervous, and I’ve never really been able to figure out why.
  6. Masturbate – Um, seriously?  Does this even need to be on the list?  Isn’t this a no brainer?
  7. Use a vibrator – Again, really?
  8. Use a sex toy on someone else – Just one?
  9. Be tied up – Too many times to count
  10. Tie someone up – Same answer as #8
  11. Have sex in a public space – Always looking for new places! Suggestions?
  12. Be a voyeur and watch others having sex (live, porn does not count) – Where I wasn’t a part of it?  Hmm, I don’t think so.
  13. Sex in a car – More than a few
  14. Sex at a drive-in – Is there another reason to go to a drive in?  Actually, there must be because I have yet to have sex at the drive-in.
  15. Mile-high club – We decided the bathroom was too small, so, no.
  16. Sex with a stranger – I knew him for about 20 minutes, does that count?
  17. One-night stand – More like a “One afternoon stand”
  18. Married sex (the best kind, in my opinion) – Yep, it wasn’t my best, but at the age of 21 you really don’t know what “good sex” really is yet.
  19. Sex on a boat – Nope, can’t say I have…yet
  20. Sex in a body of water – I’ve had sex in a few pools, but never in the ocean.  I really need to rectify that.
  21. Light spanking – I’m sorry, I literally just LOL’d when I read this one again.  Bare handed, hairbrush, paddle, and of all of the above, I prefer a nice firm hand.
  22. Read erotica – Yawn.  I write it.  I wrote my first story in 8th grade, and my English teacher leaned over my desk and said to me, “I don’t think that’s currently what we’re studying”.  True story, bro!
  23. Play strip poker/Monopoly/card game – I lost, or won, not sure who really loses in that game. =)
  24. Sex in the shower – So many showers, so many!
  25. Sex standing up against a wall – Against the wall of the shower and in a movie theater bathroom stall.
  26. Sex with no kissing – Sex MUST include kissing!  I am far too oral to consider sex without lips on lips.
  27. Sex in the pitch black – Again, really? Who the fuck puts this on a sexual bucket list?  
  28. Sex in the broad daylight – Outdoors in the sun!
  29. Making out with no sex long after you’re no longer a virgin – I was just thinking about this today.  I had the most gloriously sexy 2-hour make out session with a man I was long-time friends with, and although we attempted to make a date to finish that energy off in sexual crescendo we never ended up doing so.  
  30. Sex in a tent in the wilderness – On a volcano no less!  Also out in the woods many a time.
  31. Watch porn together – While  yes, I have done this (and with my ex-husband), I don’t find porn sexy.  Ugly people who obviously aren’t even enjoying themselves does nothing for me.  
  32. Watch porn alone – When I was 12 I watched a porn film that I stole from my brother’s secret stash.  It was called something like “The Layout”.  It turned me on, but it was really stupid and cheesy.
  33. Learn to give yourself multiple orgasms – Yes, but I prefer them with partners.
  34. Sex on the beach – On a lifeguard shack on the beach in the Virgin Islands
  35. Blindfolds – Occasionally
  36. Using ice sexually – Ice, chocolate sauce, Nutella, ice cream, pudding, fruit, jam, juice, and even a cucumber.
  37. Sexual role play – I was a bad, bad, girl, and I needed to be punished.  
  38. Whipped cream – Yawn
  39. La Perla lingerie sex – It’s lingerie, really?  It frightens me that this even needs to be listed.
  40. Frederick’s of Hollywood lingerie sex – Same as 39
  41. Sex with someone much older – I used to always date older men, but the degrees of separation varied.  When I was 23 I had sex with a man who was then 45.  I thick 22 years is the greatest difference.
  42. Sex with someone younger (legal!) – Last year I had sex with someone who was 25.  I was 37.
  43. Sex in a foreign country, possibly with a foreigner – I’ve had sex in Canada and the guy was Canadian, does that even count?
  44. A quickie in a skirt – A quick what?  I’m sure I’ve had sex in a skirt before.
  45. A longie in the rain – A “longie”? Again, I laugh out loud.  I’ve kissed in the rain, but never had sex in the rain before.
  46. Sex in the ocean while people swim all around you – Not yet
  47. Feather ticklers – My ex-husband and I used to go to this craft store in the mall across the street from my college apartment in Jersey City, and we would buy all sorts of crazy things just to raise their eyebrows.  We bought a peacock feather and had lots of fun both in, and out, of that store.
  48. Sex while “altered” whether by alcohol or something else – Yes, more than once.
  49. Learn to orgasm in less than five minutes from intercourse alone – Well, I never really timed it.
  50. Silent sex in a full house – For anyone that knows me intimately, they know how much of a challenge this is for me, but yes, I’ve done it.  It wasn’t truly “silent” though, just quieter than the usual go-around.

Now, another friend had started my thoughts kindling on this a few months ago when he asked me if,  given my sexual openness, there was anything left that I had not yet done that I wanted to do.  At the time I really had a hard time coming up with something I felt I had a yearning to try.

polyFor the longest time I had wanted to have a threesome with two men.  I had had numerous threesomes where it was me, a male lover, and another woman, but the MMF threesome eluded me.  I was once lovers with a man and his best friend at the same time, just not in the same bed.  There was one night where we all got friendly together on the living room floor, but eventually one of them bowed out, and left the two of us alone to finish the evening off.  Those men, not so into each other sexually.  In my opinion, and in my ultimate fantasy of this MMF threesome, both men have to at least be sexually “friendly” enough to share a bed together and not freak out if they end up touching.  In short, this would work best with bi men, but at least with men who are bi-sensual.  Of course, I’m kind of greedy, and the whole point of the MMF threesome is to have two men ravishing me.

In July of 2012 I finally did get to have my MMF threesome with two bi-friendly (well hell, they were REALLY friendly, but I can’t claim either one as  out as bisexual), however it was not quite what I had expected.  It was great, don’t get me wrong.  It was incredibly sexy, and in some ways, it fulfilled more than one long-dreamt of fantasy bucket list item (the second being the combination of the 3 of us), but it happened too quickly for me to be completely comfortable with it.  I blame tequila and snap decision making.  The one man and I have been long time lovers.  In the list answers above he was the 45 yr old man I slept with when I was 23.  There’s a whole separate post here that I have been meaning to write, so I’l save the story for later and get back to the idea of what’s left on my bucket list.

So, what’s left?

Without further ado, here is my sexual bucket list.

Portia Blush’s Sexual Bucket List of Must Do’s (Or Must Do Over’s)

  1. I want a “do-over” on the male/male/female threesome.  Definitely.  It probably would not be with the same original two men.
  2. Fisting – I want to finally experience all 5 fingers inside me, a whole hand filling me.  The lover that I explored this with extensively could never get the wide part of his hand inside me, so we only got up to 4.
  3. Sex in a glass elevator – Not sure why, but this has always been a fantasy of mine
  4. Fucking a male lover with a strap on – Ever since I dated a bi guy in college I have had fantasies about it.  I had one lover who I did this with, but it didn’t really work well because I bought a double-ended dildo that was specifically designed to be worn with one end inserted into your pussy that would stimulate your g-spot while you fucked your parter with the larger end, and although they said it would work without a harness, it didn’t, and without the harness it just wouldn’t stay snug up inside me enough to work as intended.  So, standard dildo and harness next time.  I have a stellar leather harness that was custom made for me from JT’s Stockroom. (Oh how I love that store – and they send you tootsie pops with every order!  Sex and Candy, just like the song)
  5. Having a Violet Wand used on me – I have mo idea what it will feel like, or if I’ll even find it as sexy as I think, but it sure looks fucking hot, so I want to at least try it.violetwand

So far, that’s all I have.  I’m sure as I explore even more that something new will find it’s way into my curiosity.  As for now, just perfecting some of the things I’ve already tried sounds like a grand adventure to me.

What’s on your sexual bucket list?

A Foray Into Fetish

Having been immersed in the BD/SM community for the entire span of my 20’s, it wasn’t long into my journey before I learned there was a whole rainbow of “kinkdom” out there, and my area of it was only scratching the surface.  During that time I was constantly meeting people who had all sorts of different fetishes; Crossdressing, Foot Worship, Humiliation, Sissification (Forced feminization), Infantilism, Electrosex, Kinbaku (Japanese Rope Bondage), and even clothing fetishes like Latex and Corseting.  Yes, there is a fetish for just about everything from soup to nuts, well, more like even nuts in soup: Sploshing (I admit, the thought of having an erotic food fight, or a food play scenario like the one in the film 9 1/2 Weeks, turns me on).

Naka Akira, one of Japan’s leading kinbakushi, performing at Toubaku, international shibari festival, in Tokyo 2011. Source: Esinem

I can’t claim to like all of those fetishes even as a concept, let alone understand them all, but I do feel that we’re all entitled to explore our sexuality in whatever way we choose, and joyously so, as long as everyone involved is a consenting adult.  After all, we all have something that turns us on that maybe, just maybe, might not be quite someone else’s cup of tea, so its best not to be too harsh a critic of your fellow sexplorer’s bedtime fun.

The BD/SM world seems to be this marvelous crossover playground where a lot of fetishes overlap and mingle.  This certainly doesn’t mean that every person into D/s and BD/SM is into any, or all, of these fetishes, but a lot of these fetishes fall under the umbrella of play that are often labeled “D/s” (Dominance and submission).  Picture those cool Venn diagrams where the circles have both separate and overlapping areas illustrating the relationships between things, and there you have fetishes and the kink world.

My first personal experience with Foot Worship came a few years before I delved into the BD/SM world.  I used to be a regular at showings of The Rocky Horror Picture Show on 8th St. in Manhattan when I first went to college in the early 90’s, and one of my fellow regulars, part of the group that took me in and quickly made me a part of their crew, loved feet.  And when I say he loved feet, I mean he LOVED feet!  He loved watching me wiggle my toes, he got doe-eyed watching me arch my foot to stretch and point my toes, and as soon as I became aware of this through keen observation, I would do them more obviously in his presence.  The not quite matured Dominant aspect of my nature thoroughly enjoyed this.  I reveled in the thought that it was erotically torturous for him to watch me, and I took advantage of this whenever I could.   It helped that I had an interest in him sexually, as sexuality ties heavily into D/s for me.  In short, they are inextricably linked for me.  Well, maybe not in all cases, but usually 95% of the time anyway.

The object of his affection: my feet

Soon, as he became comfortable with me, and aware that we shared a mutual attraction, I allowed this aspect of our relationship to grow.  I remember one night where he literally massaged and rubbed my stocking feet for what seemed like an hour before one show.  I was somewhat repulsed by it at first, as I knew my tired, stocking-clad tootsies were definitely not the most pleasant smelling.  Oh, but that was just like icing on the cake for him, as he totally got off on stinky feet, and the more it smelled like you had been walking around all day, the better!  I wouldn’t even want to be near my feet after that, but to each his own.  Good on ya, mate!

Another night I even allowed him to suck my toes and lick my feet.  I know some women actually find this feeling erotic, no fetish included, but then, to me, it just felt weird.  It certainly did nothing for me sexually, but he really enjoyed it, and so I acquiesced to his desire, as it certainly wasn’t a deal breaker.  I suppose I should’ve looked at it like getting a foot massage with a mouth. LOL  I had another experience with my toes being sucked by a lover just a year or so ago, and um, let’s just say under the right circumstances, I think my toes have tiny clits on them, but I digress. =)

A few years later as I forayed into my experience with BD/SM, I began to learn that this form of fetish had it roots in submission, and I as a Dominant Female, or Mistress if you please, became well aware that my stiletto-sporting feet, and the nylon-wearing legs they were attached to, were in high demand by submissive men with foot fetishes.  I intended to milk this fetish for all it was worth.  And when I say worth people, I mean I saw dollar signs.

I was not alone in my ingenuity either!  My partner in crime and best friend, Domina Blue, saw the monumental eBay potential to be gleamed.  She was not only a Domina like me, but shared my eBay obsession as well.  Blue encouraged me to list my well-worn stockings, socks, high heels, and even busted-out old sneakers for auction.  Alas, eBay didn’t like such auctions, and quickly cancelled them despite overwhelmingly rapid bidding response!  Apparently the selling of erotically marketed used clothing did not jive with their policies.  Foiled again.  I’d expect a little more from a company from California, land of the “out there”!

Ah, thank you, eBanned!  eBanned is the cleverly created “adult only” auction site for all things fetish that are not allowed on eBay.  Smelly socks?  Worn panties?  Trashed out high heels?  You name it, you can sell, or buy it, on eBanned.  Honestly, you’re just going to throw out your old socks, so why do that when you can sell them to some foot-sniffing, sock lover for $20, who will love them in his own special way?  And please don’t think me callus in that statement, as those loving footboys understand what a true pleasure it is that I allowed them.

It’s not only a no-brainer as far as the profit margins go, but it’s also the most cleverly concealed form of recycling ever devised!  And who doesn’t care about the environment these days, right?  I was such an innovator in the realm of “repurposing” back then, and I didn’t even realize it.  And hey, it’s like getting your shoes for free, because once you have worn them enough that you need new ones, you can end up selling your beat up heels for anywhere from half, up to what they originally cost you, or more!  I sold a pair of 6″ red patent, ankle strap, stilettos that I had worn out for $85+ to a guy from Germany!  They cost me less than half that.

Of course it’s not just the object itself, but the symbolism behind it, as well as the scent infused in it.  To smell your feet, see the wear and imagine your perfect feet carving a path across a crowded room as all eyes fell on you, and imagine the life you lived in them as they worship every aspect of your Goddesshood; that, it’s that those footboys desire.  It could be a high heel, a sneaker, a cute cotton athletic sock, or the sexiest pair of silk stockings.  It’s whatever their proclivity is, whatever fantasy you choose to weave, and whatever piece of your world you deem them fit to enjoy the morsel of.

I call that a win/win, don’t you?

It’s been years since I employed such craftiness in both the realm of fetish, and of the more creative marketplace.  My early 30’s have been about the more “swirly” aspects of vanilla sexual expression, and that is fine with me.  I go where my desire leads me.  I haven’t taken part in this area of e-commerce for a good long time.  That is, until recently.  Of course, that is a story for another day.

Do you have any fetishes?  Care to share with me?

Fifty Shades of Tickled Pink

Finally, that fluffy excuse for a BD/SM novel has met it’s maker!  Hallelujah!

As seen on the shelves at Target

I suppose, while I can knock it’s poorly written pages all I want, kudos to Fifty Shades of Grey and the likes of E L  James for bringing Anne Rice’s Sleeping Beauty series, and with it, the boundlessly erotic BD/SM world, into the hands of sex-starved wives (and husbands) everywhere!  As I wrote in my recent post, “Coffee, Sleeping Beauty, and BD/SM”, it was the book, The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty, that charged and changed my erotic life forever, and I am so much richer for it!  I am thrilled that now, having been thrust into market again, this series will enjoy a whole new generation of fans.

It was only by chance that I even knew what it was, but back in April I was in my dermatologists office waiting for my appointment to begin, when I had the pleasure of reading Katie Rolphe’s article in Newsweek  on how spanking, and the notions of Dominance and submission as erotic paradigms, were trending their way into the bedrooms of women across America via the book Fifty Shades of Grey.  I thought to myself that this was nothing new (at least to me), having seen the intensely erotic movies Secretary, and 9 1/2 Weeks, several years before, but I suppose with the recent cultural fascination with vampires and all things dark and seductive, it was only a matter of time before the BD/SM world got it’s turn in the limelight.

I had one of the best laughs of the year when an acquaintance of mine, a soccer mom of three in her early 40’s, had asked me if I’d read it.  What a marvelous coincidence that I had just read the article mentioning that book the very day before this query came.  When I told her that I had yet to read it, but have heard of it, she proceeded to sing the praises of it’s bodaciously, tawdry, D/s theme.  I got such a kick out of sitting back and listening to her swoon romantically about this apparently new erotic landscape for her (and her husband), all the while having had such a rich and vibrant sexual history of play in the realms of BD/SM and D/s, myself.  It wasn’t until she said something about how she had told her husband, upon having reading the book, that she thought they might need a “playroom” of their own, and how I would “understand just what that meant after you read the book”, that I just couldn’t contain myself any longer, and let out a hearty giggle, as a Cheshire Cat smile made its way playfully across my face.  It should come as no surprise to you that this same woman is also a rabid fangirl of the Twilight series.

So while I can joke about it all I want, I have to sincerely and graciously extend a hearty “Thank You” to that sappy cheese-bomb of paperback erotic fiction, for having brought this once dark and forbidden world of kink, unabashedly into the mainstream erosphere!  E L  James, I salute you!

Coffee, Sleeping Beauty, and BD/SM

Throughout my childhood growing up, both of my parents loved coffee. In fact, most adults I knew loved coffee.  So, when I became that age where curiosity about many things starts to get the best of you, I decided to experiment with coffee.  I figured it was like the gateway drug to adulthood, and I wanted in.

I was maybe 10 or 11 when I had my first experience.  We were at my older cousin Joanne’s bridal shower, and had finally come to that part of the afternoon when some pseudo form of wedding-like cake was served, and they gave all us “kids” sodas, and poured all the adults tiny cups of that lusciously aromatic, deep brown, goodness.  So, being the bold and intrepid girl I was, I asked for a cup, and was met with no resistance.  I felt so mature, so sophisticated.  I’m pretty sure I even did that dainty little pinky finger lift that most women seem to automatically do when holding elegant glassware.  I was about to leave those other kids my age in the dust, and be promoted into the ranks of sophisticated adults who drank coffee.  Who knew what the world would meet me with then!  I was already calculating all the possibilities on the horizon before me.

One sip and I knew; YUCK! That stuff just wasn’t for me.  It would appear I was still, no matter how much I protested, a kid.

By the time college came, I was fairly sure I was going to wake up any day now and like coffee.  All my classmates were coming to morning and afternoon classes with a cup from the corner deli, but I was still clinging to my old stand by, Diet Coke.  I would pass coffee shops and smell that seductive aroma of Columbian roast, but alas, no matter how much I sweetened it, or added milk to it, I just couldn’t get past its bitter taste.  I couldn’t figure out for the life of me how something so deliriously wonderful smelling, could taste so repulsive.  I finally just had to admit it wasn’t for me.

And then, on a road trip with my father, it happened.  At a rest stop on the NYS Thruway, he had me go in to the Starbucks and get him a cup of coffee to help him re-caffeinate.  It was summer, and the line was somewhat long. As I waited for my turn, admittedly somewhat impatiently, I saw the words that would change my life forever, “Iced Caramel Latte“.  I suppose I should now, looking back, be thankful for being made to wait long enough to pay attention to this colorfully written chalk board advertisement that was about to change my fate.

I thought, “Caramel, how bad could that be? If I hate it, I’ll just give it to Dad.”  I went back to the car, handed him his coffee, and we proceeded down the highway.  He eyed my iced latte with peaked curiosity, knowing that I was not a coffee person.  Yet.

The first few sips; meh. Still, I kept right on sipping.

Halfway through; this isn’t that bad.

By the time only ice remained, and I found myself wiggling the straw around at the bottom to find any last remaining droplet; I…wanted…MORE.  Oh coffee, you subversive vixen, you!

I was hooked. I wanted more iced lattes, and I wanted them NOW.  I thought, “I wonder if this is the only kind of coffee I like?”, and so in the days and weeks that would follow this magical mystery trip, I experimented with all kinds of caffeinated concoctions.  My mind was blown wide open, and my taste buds were screaming more, more, MORE!  I ordered hot caramel lattes, cappuccinos, macchiatos, and even good ole’ plain coffee, light and sweet.  I drank them alone in the privacy of my own home, with friends, and even in public!  I had no shame.  I was now all about the coffee.

But what do you do when the opposite happens?  What do you do when something that really tripped your trigger for years, now suddenly isn’t even a blip on your radar?

This is what happened to me with BD/SM.

During my first year in college there was a course given on Erotic Literature.  I desperately wanted to take this course, but it unfortunately always fell on a day that I had conflicting classes.  Luckily for me I discovered one day, by sheer chance, that our school bookstore labeled all the books on the shelves with what course they were needed for, and so I decided that if I couldn’t take the course, I could at least read the course materials.  Among the books there were erotic poems by Rumi, and a curious book enticingly titled, The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty.  It was this book that would change my sexual life in the most exciting and profound ways.

I’m not what you would call an avid reader, as I don’t just devour books for the sake of simply liking the subject matter.  I need to be pulled in, seduced in a way that I just cannot seem to pull myself out of the story or subject matter, and few books seem to accomplish this for me.  Most books I can read little snippets of here and there, but ones I truly love, ones that are remarkably captivating, I cannot seem to put down long enough to remember that I need to both eat and sleep at some point.  The Claiming of Sleeping Beauty by Anne Roquelaure (or for those not in the know, Anne Rice) did this for me.  This book makes today’s Fifty Shades of Gray look like that teen-fandom hit, Twilight, but I digress.

Before reading this book, I had no idea what BD/SM was, let alone even heard of it before.  My idea of sex growing up was shaped by overly dramatic romance-novel-esque scenes from soap operas, or steamy scenes from movies, and one really bad porn movie.  None of these even hinted at the idea that pain could ever be a pleasurable thing, or dominance, or giving over one’s power to another.  As I started reading “Claiming”, I was extraordinarily shocked and repulsed!  Here was this young girl who I imagined to be around my age then, 18, who was being forcibly taken by these mysterious men, spanked, prodded, handled like a piece of meat, and taken away to some unknown kingdom where she was put in service of a cruel Queen who had a thing for hairbrush spankings, and I was just thrown!  How could they do this to her?  Why would anyone imagine this kind of cruelty could be erotic?  There was nothing sexy about this.

But I couldn’t put it down! I couldn’t stop reading!  I was so entranced, so beguiled, and I was getting wetter and wetter with each page turn.  I had never read a book so quickly in my life.  My whole erotic world was being turned on its head, and I somehow knew then that nothing would ever be the same.

I was lucky at that time to be living in NYC, because as most good cities will have, a host of clubs were around that catered to this fringy new passion of mine.  I was bold enough then, and fearless enough, that the idea of waltzing in to unknown territory didn’t seem to intimidate me much.  In retrospect, a nubile 18-year-old in club Hellfire is like sending a unicorn into a field surrounded by hunters with full quivers!  I had no idea what role I wanted to play (Dominant or submissive), all I knew was that I wanted to experiment with it all.  And that I did.

In the years that followed throughout my 20’s, and long after I eventually moved upstate and out of the city, I gradually dipped my toes deeper and deeper into the pool of the BD/SM world.  I was tied up, down, corseted, spanked, flogged, waxed, clamped, you name it, and I was also on the giving end of all of those experiences as well.  My first real kink relationship was with a man who was my submissive, and we spent many a weekend in the city at Paddles exploring joyous hours of public play.  This was back when Paddles was on 17th St., and had all sorts of deviously wonderful theme rooms.  My favorite of which will always be the throne room because it had this perfectly placed ornate gold framed mirror, flanked by two pillars that had wrist and ankle cuffs with pulleys attached to them.  Oh, how can you not see the inherent perfection in that design?  Have you ever seen a real live human puppet show before? I have!  I make a fabulous puppet master, er, Mistress!

In my late 20’s I ended up in another relationship that took a different avenue.  I guess you could say that I was predominantly a Dominant, but for the right kind of man, I longed to submit.  I’m not sure I could tell you in words just exactly what this “perfect storm” of a combination was for me, but suffice it to say that it was a serious interplay of physical desire interwoven with a mental prowess, which created a sort of magnetism that is insanely intoxicating.  I imagine this is what a moth experiences as it watches a flame dance.  I have only felt his 3 times in my life thus far.  As if the yin of the universe yearned for its yang, so did the turning of my experiential tide.  Thus began my first 24/7 Dom/sub relationship with me as the submissive.

I had met someone who seemed to just innately pull this desire forth from me.  He was much newer to the exploration of BD/SM than I was, but somehow this did not detour me.  I suppose because I trusted that with the right about of information, he would be more than capable.  That’s how it originally started; he came to me for my expertise. We talked, and played around a little together Topping another woman (his wife), together, which was all rather mild newbie play.  But I could see he wanted more.  I could tell he wanted to go deeper, harder, more intensely into this new realm.  I wanted to experience that for myself, giving myself up to anothers’ will as someone had once done so beautifully for me.  And so I offered myself to him this way, gave him full reign, with only my checklist of “yes”, “no”, and “Definitely not”‘s to guide him. It was like falling down the rabbit hole, and here I was, Alice tumbling into who knows where.  My only “out” was a safe word that would, upon utterance, terminate everything.

During the course of this relationship no corner seemed left unturned.  Of all the tastes I enjoyed: spanking, flogging, restraint, knife play, wax, anal play, to name a few, there were many that I would be exposed to that I did not find palatable.   Humiliation of various kinds was most intolerable for me.  Even more jarring to my soul perhaps though, was to be “dropped”; riding that great build up, the rising crescendo of powerfully erotic exchanges, only to be left hanging without sexual release.  This was, as the cards would have it, part and parcel of being involved with someone who needs to also concern themselves with the care of another loved one, who might not be so thrilled by their partner’s kinky extramarital relationship.  It was all though, in its intensity and fullness, balanced none the less.

For the year and a half that this relationship grew, blossomed, and eventually withered, it was beyond intoxicating for me. Our BD/SM play was all I could think about, dream about, long for.  It’s the closest thing to an addiction that I have ever had.  I would day dream for hours about what our next scenes would include.  I would create elaborate fantasies within my dreamscape, put them to paper, and he would recreate them with his own style.  Every breath that passed between my lips, every thought that flickered through, every inch of skin, and every fiber of my soul yearned for that seemingly insatiable exchange of power.  It was my drug, and it coursed through my veins like horses with wild abandon.

And then, without warning or foreshadow, it was gone. Just like that.

I have often wondered if perhaps that relationship had somehow completed within me, the two halves of the whole; light and dark, form and shadow. I don’t know why, or how, and I have yet to adequately explain it, if it’s explainable at all, but somehow that circuit in my sexual appetite reached completion. I entered into my 30’s a new person, with new desires and undiscovered tastes, but the old hungers are just whispers, now sated.

I’m not done exploring the vast and expansive menu of sexuality and eroticism, it’s just that, like coffee, my taste has inexplicably and forever, changed.