Bound to... heh
So, then came Trevor.
The flirting we'd done had always been about him being in charge, him doing things to me. What he'd allow me to do to him, what he WOULDN'T allow me to do to him... the ball was always very much in his court. I'd had plenty of men try and flirt with me like this in the past, but when it came down to the reality, they never followed through. I never let them follow through, because I couldn't let them have that kind of control over me. I had high hopes for the reality of Trevors flirting, though. I'd known him for so long, had such a strong impression of him from before we ever physically met.
The first time we met was the first time we fucked. I've already told that story, and it was amazing. It was. Sex can be awkward the first time, though still fun. But our first time wasn't awkward. It was just hot. And the second, and the third, and so on and so forth. We have good chemistry, and it didn't take us long to figure out what we both really liked. And he approaches sex like he's in a classroom, brow furrowed, pencil clutched between his teeth... he's a quick learner :D.
For me, it was a little different. I knew an awful lot about pleasing other people, and I'd taught myself how to make sure I was pleased as well, regardless of my partner. But this approach required me being in charge. Even in the midst of orgasm, I'd taught myself to be hyper aware of my partners reactions and to react to them. It made me an amazing lover. No brag, just fact. I took a lot of pride in the joy and physical pleasure I could bring to another person. But, it made it extremely difficult to let go during sex. And good orgasm, good sex, involves jumping off the edge of the cliff, spreading your arms, and screaming your way to the bottom. I always had a parachute.
The first time Trevor held me down and wouldn't let me do anything other than feel what he was doing to me, it was actually really fucking infuriating. I couldn't move, couldn't control the situation, couldn't bring him pleasure. All I could do was try desperately to get away from what he was making me feel. Try and fail. After I came and he let me go, I jumped off the bed and ran off in a huff. He didn't really react to my anger, as far as I remember. He just got smug. He'd discovered a fetish of his own, and it became a regular part of our sex life. I gained more muscle mass in 6 months than I ever had before, because I was genuinely fighting with him. It got to the point where I could lift him up with my upper arms (an accomplishment. He's not fat, but he is hugely muscled), but I couldn't push him off. And I loved it. Being held down and played with, having absolutely no choice but to come screaming, over and over and over again, forced me to get over my need to be in control of the situation. The feeling of letting down your walls for the first time, forgetting completely how silly you look, how your partner is looking at you and reacting to you, forgetting everything but that fire burning its slow way through your skin to burst into a conflagration between your thighs... it's incredible. And addictive.
It makes me sad that I had to be forced into this experience. It's humbling to realize how much I was missing from sex and how unlikely it is that I would have been able to come to this realization on my own.
But I don't worry about that too much. Why would I? I got what I needed. It wasn't in a conventional way, but I've never thrived within the confines of convention. I'm ok with that.
It won't always be who I am. Already I can feel that it's not enough. It's never been completely enough. Bringing my partner pleasure is still an incredibly important part of good sex for me. It always will be. And when it comes down to it, when I picture how the rest of my life will be, I want someone who will treat me as an equal, in bed and out. Yes, being bitten in the back of the neck, held down and fucked senseless will always be hot. Handcuffs and silk ropes and choking and gagging on a cock will always be hot. I enjoy being bested by a partner, I enjoy sparring, both physically and mentally. I enjoy losing just as much as I enjoy winning. But there has to be a balance between the two. I don't have that with Trevor, and we're too established in our roles to ever change that, most likely.
However, I feel like I'm capable of having that now, that true give and take. I'm grateful for the experience that allowed that, helped me to grow.
The flirting we'd done had always been about him being in charge, him doing things to me. What he'd allow me to do to him, what he WOULDN'T allow me to do to him... the ball was always very much in his court. I'd had plenty of men try and flirt with me like this in the past, but when it came down to the reality, they never followed through. I never let them follow through, because I couldn't let them have that kind of control over me. I had high hopes for the reality of Trevors flirting, though. I'd known him for so long, had such a strong impression of him from before we ever physically met.
The first time we met was the first time we fucked. I've already told that story, and it was amazing. It was. Sex can be awkward the first time, though still fun. But our first time wasn't awkward. It was just hot. And the second, and the third, and so on and so forth. We have good chemistry, and it didn't take us long to figure out what we both really liked. And he approaches sex like he's in a classroom, brow furrowed, pencil clutched between his teeth... he's a quick learner :D.
For me, it was a little different. I knew an awful lot about pleasing other people, and I'd taught myself how to make sure I was pleased as well, regardless of my partner. But this approach required me being in charge. Even in the midst of orgasm, I'd taught myself to be hyper aware of my partners reactions and to react to them. It made me an amazing lover. No brag, just fact. I took a lot of pride in the joy and physical pleasure I could bring to another person. But, it made it extremely difficult to let go during sex. And good orgasm, good sex, involves jumping off the edge of the cliff, spreading your arms, and screaming your way to the bottom. I always had a parachute.
The first time Trevor held me down and wouldn't let me do anything other than feel what he was doing to me, it was actually really fucking infuriating. I couldn't move, couldn't control the situation, couldn't bring him pleasure. All I could do was try desperately to get away from what he was making me feel. Try and fail. After I came and he let me go, I jumped off the bed and ran off in a huff. He didn't really react to my anger, as far as I remember. He just got smug. He'd discovered a fetish of his own, and it became a regular part of our sex life. I gained more muscle mass in 6 months than I ever had before, because I was genuinely fighting with him. It got to the point where I could lift him up with my upper arms (an accomplishment. He's not fat, but he is hugely muscled), but I couldn't push him off. And I loved it. Being held down and played with, having absolutely no choice but to come screaming, over and over and over again, forced me to get over my need to be in control of the situation. The feeling of letting down your walls for the first time, forgetting completely how silly you look, how your partner is looking at you and reacting to you, forgetting everything but that fire burning its slow way through your skin to burst into a conflagration between your thighs... it's incredible. And addictive.
It makes me sad that I had to be forced into this experience. It's humbling to realize how much I was missing from sex and how unlikely it is that I would have been able to come to this realization on my own.
But I don't worry about that too much. Why would I? I got what I needed. It wasn't in a conventional way, but I've never thrived within the confines of convention. I'm ok with that.
It won't always be who I am. Already I can feel that it's not enough. It's never been completely enough. Bringing my partner pleasure is still an incredibly important part of good sex for me. It always will be. And when it comes down to it, when I picture how the rest of my life will be, I want someone who will treat me as an equal, in bed and out. Yes, being bitten in the back of the neck, held down and fucked senseless will always be hot. Handcuffs and silk ropes and choking and gagging on a cock will always be hot. I enjoy being bested by a partner, I enjoy sparring, both physically and mentally. I enjoy losing just as much as I enjoy winning. But there has to be a balance between the two. I don't have that with Trevor, and we're too established in our roles to ever change that, most likely.
However, I feel like I'm capable of having that now, that true give and take. I'm grateful for the experience that allowed that, helped me to grow.
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