I’m still here, still monogamous. I don’t know if anyone is still reading this, but as this started as a place for me to vent my sexual frustrations (audience or no), I think it only sensible that I post anyway.
Every time I look at this blog I feel a little guilty for neglecting it. It was my baby, my deviant pride and joy. I nutured it, then tossed it aside when I got distracted by life. I’ve started and erased so many posts in the past 13 months because I either lost motivation or they didn’t feel real enough.
Well, here’s another, better late than never. I can’t say when I’ll write next, but for now this is all I have to offer.
I’ve been seeing the same man for over a year and a half now, which is a record for me (note: technically first relationship lasted roughly that long, though I had checked out emotionally by month eight or so). There have been plenty of ups, and plenty of downs, but one thing I have enjoyed over the past 18 months is the chance to continue exploring an ever-evolving sexuality. I crave the opportunity to fuck him, to kiss the lace edge of his stockinged thighs, and to be fucked like a whore on my knees.
My boyfriend likes to wear panties, and I like to pull them down with my teeth.
The day after he first told me (though I’d realized he was interested long before), I went out and bought him a pair of soft, lacey boyshorts. The romp that followed was thrilling, as was rubbing my cheek against the bulge beneath that soft cotton. A few weeks later, we bought stockings (I wanted matching ones, which he still thinks is a bit odd, but I quite like the idea). Eventually I provided him with a hand-me-down garter belt of mine, and let him keep a slip I’d forgotten at his house.
The entire ensemble is awesome as hell, as is the excitement I feel when I realize he’s wearing it under his hoodie and jeans.
I have had some trouble dealing with one thing, though I am starting to sort my feelings out. Last night he asked how I’d feel if he said he wanted to suck a guy’s cock. He told me to take some time to think about it, which was good- my initial impulse was to respond with “sure, go for it, just tell me how it went!” but that would be a dishonest answer.
In reality, my own lingering insecurities made it a little harder to accept. I didn’t want to keep him from an experience that expands on his evolving sexuality, I really didn’t. I wanted to be understanding, but in the back of my mind all I could hear was “he’s losing interest in you- he’ll start to drift because you’re not attractive to him anymore, were you ever?”
Today I addressed those concerns, though it took me a couple tries to stop skirting around the issue and say what I really meant. Though he was honest when he said he couldn’t predict his interests 5 minutes or 5 years from now, he did quell my fears. To paraphrase, he likes that I like to be fucked like a whore, and that I like to fuck him too. It’s as simple as that, and that’s all I really needed to hear.
I have more time to think about it, to decide what I’d be comfortable with. As it stands, I’d always be more comfortable with a threesome than I am with the idea of him sucking cock while I sit at home and let the negative thoughts fester. I’m comfortable with threesomes- been there, done that. Knowing that my boyfriend is out there with someone else? That’s something else entirely.
In the end I think I’ll just have to set some “ground rules,” so to speak, for the sake of his exploration and my sanity. I have no doubt that a retelling of his encounter will leave me wet and eager to pounce on him again.
Time will tell.
