Newest obsession
Oct. 11th, 2010 05:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
snowylinenlandThis afternoon and evening: out with L. L here first, that eagerness to get him inside me as soon as possible (initial hesitation, who is this man again? followed by immense certainty). Him eating me out on my dresser, trying to fuck me despite weird physics (too great a distance to the wall). Spending the next 3 hours (!) in bed: fucking, talking, snuggling, more fucking. "We need to leave, but I really would like to fuck you one more time." "Well, fuck me then already."
The discussion this afternoon about kink: L announcing/admitting that he might be a bit of a dom, that he would like to tie me up some day. I don't know to trust this, if this is his studied consideration of what he thinks I might like (we know that facilitating other people's fantasies is his real kink, as is pushing boundaries); when put to him that I'd concluded he'd like me to dominate him (conclusion from two weeks ago), he seemed surprised. Settled for switch hitter eventually.
Observation on his face: he's at his most beautiful when viewed from above, looking down; at his most gargoyle-like when you're looking up at him from below, angled somewhere beneath his chin, as he smiles down at you midcoitus.
Other observation: the man fits. The man fits well, really well. He hasn't done it properly yet, but this man will make me come vaginally, and I can't wait. This is the first partner I've ever had who's been identically my size: it has more advantages than I expected, and if he's ever struggled to reach me anywhere, I haven't noticed.
We discussed anal sex, and my desire to become more comfortable with it - let's see where that goes. Also discovered overlapping awareness of kink communities in this city; wonder if S knows him.
Quick highlights of the rest of the evening:
Weird attempted sex behind foodcarts post eating, post food crash. Conclusion that we need more practice, less underwear.
He made me come three times in the park at the top of the hill, in probably a 15 minute window. With only his fingers. This is unheard of, unprecedented. I can't do this. Worry that when we stop having sex, this will be unreplicable. Hoping for even more in the meantime.
The story he's telling is one of total mesmerisation by me: "you're the one I think of when I touch myself". (Fascinating compliment.) Of electric energy when we're together, of wanting to abandon all else to come be with me, in me, whereever I am, no matter the time, his other obligations. He tells it in the third person, to make me come more, harder - the level of thought required to tell this as a story makes me question its veracity, but oh how he tells it!
All the feedback I'm getting says the man is falling, hard - which is good, since I seem to be too. The walk back along the canal, the easy flowing ceaseless discussion by moonlight (we saw stars tonight! Especially as I leaned back against the bench at the lookout point, his head between my legs), interspersed with breaks for kissing, for wondering if we were lost yet. Lovely to spend time with someone I'm just as comfortable talking to as fucking, more comfortable touching (fingers laced, arms linked, a leg tossed over the other) than not.
Astonished at my appetite for the man, at my desire to continue despite being rubbed sore from enthusiasm (and not enough lube. He still requires more training in this, though it's not affecting the overall result really.) Worried about my IUD, at least a bit.
And now? Can't wait to see him Tuesday; fondly looking forward to waking up with him; adoring the complete concentration on me he has when with me (the phone going unanswered.) A little concerned about who calls him at 01.25, at the breadth of his other obligations I know nothing about, but very willing to accept that at the moment for him, accept at the moment his evident complete joy and abandonment in my company.
Discovery of the day: the man is significantly less random than I had previously assumed, the flakiness an intentional strategy. We'll see how he continues to surprise me, my understanding evolving. I could so easily have stayed up another few hours talking to him, or better, going to sleep wrapped up with him, rather than going back to work. There are so many discussions to have with him, so many conversations seeded, neglected while we pursue the then-main one.
Tindersticks' Oblivion, the song he associates with me, with thinking about me 'too much', with wanting to be with me.
The discussion this afternoon about kink: L announcing/admitting that he might be a bit of a dom, that he would like to tie me up some day. I don't know to trust this, if this is his studied consideration of what he thinks I might like (we know that facilitating other people's fantasies is his real kink, as is pushing boundaries); when put to him that I'd concluded he'd like me to dominate him (conclusion from two weeks ago), he seemed surprised. Settled for switch hitter eventually.
Observation on his face: he's at his most beautiful when viewed from above, looking down; at his most gargoyle-like when you're looking up at him from below, angled somewhere beneath his chin, as he smiles down at you midcoitus.
Other observation: the man fits. The man fits well, really well. He hasn't done it properly yet, but this man will make me come vaginally, and I can't wait. This is the first partner I've ever had who's been identically my size: it has more advantages than I expected, and if he's ever struggled to reach me anywhere, I haven't noticed.
We discussed anal sex, and my desire to become more comfortable with it - let's see where that goes. Also discovered overlapping awareness of kink communities in this city; wonder if S knows him.
Quick highlights of the rest of the evening:
Weird attempted sex behind foodcarts post eating, post food crash. Conclusion that we need more practice, less underwear.
He made me come three times in the park at the top of the hill, in probably a 15 minute window. With only his fingers. This is unheard of, unprecedented. I can't do this. Worry that when we stop having sex, this will be unreplicable. Hoping for even more in the meantime.
The story he's telling is one of total mesmerisation by me: "you're the one I think of when I touch myself". (Fascinating compliment.) Of electric energy when we're together, of wanting to abandon all else to come be with me, in me, whereever I am, no matter the time, his other obligations. He tells it in the third person, to make me come more, harder - the level of thought required to tell this as a story makes me question its veracity, but oh how he tells it!
All the feedback I'm getting says the man is falling, hard - which is good, since I seem to be too. The walk back along the canal, the easy flowing ceaseless discussion by moonlight (we saw stars tonight! Especially as I leaned back against the bench at the lookout point, his head between my legs), interspersed with breaks for kissing, for wondering if we were lost yet. Lovely to spend time with someone I'm just as comfortable talking to as fucking, more comfortable touching (fingers laced, arms linked, a leg tossed over the other) than not.
Astonished at my appetite for the man, at my desire to continue despite being rubbed sore from enthusiasm (and not enough lube. He still requires more training in this, though it's not affecting the overall result really.) Worried about my IUD, at least a bit.
And now? Can't wait to see him Tuesday; fondly looking forward to waking up with him; adoring the complete concentration on me he has when with me (the phone going unanswered.) A little concerned about who calls him at 01.25, at the breadth of his other obligations I know nothing about, but very willing to accept that at the moment for him, accept at the moment his evident complete joy and abandonment in my company.
Discovery of the day: the man is significantly less random than I had previously assumed, the flakiness an intentional strategy. We'll see how he continues to surprise me, my understanding evolving. I could so easily have stayed up another few hours talking to him, or better, going to sleep wrapped up with him, rather than going back to work. There are so many discussions to have with him, so many conversations seeded, neglected while we pursue the then-main one.
Tindersticks' Oblivion, the song he associates with me, with thinking about me 'too much', with wanting to be with me.
