So much so that I was convinced my issue was completely something else and I couldn't write, therefor I started up an entirely new blog because of it. She just snapped at me.
You're ashamed of your behavior, and you should be. Own it and carry on.
I've been worse than your stereotypical teenage boy that just discovered how amazing it is to put your penis into a vagina so that is the only thing on your mind and all that you want to do.
It's so bad that all I can think about half the time is throwing Fawkes onto whatever is in my eyesight regardless of his actual presence, ripping off his clothes, clamping down on his shoulder with my teeth and sliding down onto him to feel that release.
I have literally pouted about it.
Yes. Pouted.
Pretty fucking sad. I can wax all I want about why it is this way, but all that makes any of that sound like is a thinly veiled excuse for why I've been how I have. The only thing I can say is that I have respected his desire to wait (even if in the heat of the moment it was begrudgingly) and I haven't pressed for it. I hope he takes it as a compliment to how wholly attractive I find him. That the anticipation for how I see, feel, and know it will be-being the intuitive person I am sometimes has it's downfalls. As well, patience has never been a virtue of mine.
Fawkes- Please don't take any of this either as coercion. I need to own up to my behavior so I can stop being so stupid about it. The one excuse I will give is that no, I'm not use to being told no. Sometimes, regardless of how you act with me, it does make me think you don't want me even though every other action, sentiment, expression, and intention proves otherwise. I'm trying to reconcile my stupid lizard brain with my stupid regular brain.
Part of the problem as well is that, because of how past relationships influence the future ones, sex was always a part of "coming back to center" with Oz. That due to our dynamics, for me, I had to reconcile that the type of aftercare I was going to get was sex. That he still wanted to put his penis in me after I welted his back or hurt his wrists was confirmation that I did a good job, I didn't hurt him, and I was still wanted. As well as it is with swinging and GM, there is that sense of coming back to center when I have sex with him after a swinging party. That sex is a center, a go to place for remembering and reminding why we do everything else. Looking at it from that perspective makes it look like it's superficial, but it isn't. It is a deeply connecting and intimate act and it's always remained as such for me even being a "casual sex artist". The times that there hasn't been a reason other than to put things up my hooha have left me feeling blah. Sex has always been a culmination of what everything else is. It's the physical representation of the thoughts feelings and actions regarding affection between two people. ....and I am tingling with excitement in sharing that with Fawkes.
So, this heated moment....She got to come out and play-really really play- for the first time. And I mean ever. She's never had this much freedom to do what she wants to do, as she sees fit and to the extent of her desires. So much so, that I have a problem now referring to her as another person. This was me. GM said it sounded like some weird Black Swan shit-where I had feathers growing out of my skin (but it was fish scales! ::wink::) I finally accepted these aspects of myself to be me-to be integral to who I am and what, simply, makes me happy. Every landed bite, scratch, pinning, taking, even spanking....I wanted to consume him. I couldn't get close enough. I was literally vibrating from the charge of him bending to my whims and sending him down into that space where nothing could hurt him, his mind was quiet and I just wanted to push further and further into the silence and see him lost-truly see him float in the quiet. Having experienced it before myself, I understand and the unique aspect now is experiencing it from the other end-being the one who gives that feeling to someone is amazing. Being responsible for that peace is an honor, it's humbling, and intoxicating. I once used the analogy that using this energy to do this is akin to throwing a ball into a void. That ball contains the essence of my confidence, trust, love, and is void of what makes biting, spanking, and clawing someone close to the point of harm such a terrible thing. And that is the difficult part. As things end and things come back to normal reality, the void closes up and I am left with all those feelings of worry that I did something wrong-that I abused my authority. (Hey, even bosses like to hear they're doing a good job from time to time)
Fawkes laid there, exhausted and still a little floaty....a quick check of the time and I would have to be leaving soon. He cupped my face and kissed me and a wash of remorse flooded me. I needed to know he was okay, I needed to know that this wasn't going to be the last time, I needed him. Not my floaty subspace drunk Fawkes. I needed my, "You get all my odd quirks and insecurities about all this and give me peace from them," Fawkes. (Then, throw in that fact we weren't going to have sex and craving that sense of intimacy gained from it....) I fell to pieces. I couldn't leave him just yet. I needed to be around him as those feelings that usually make me recede into the dark corners of my mind so that I wouldn't establish any permanence in them-because I can't figure out how to make the dark quiet just yet. That I can tell Fawkes these things is comforting and makes it a little less scary, but still...I want to get to that spot where I'm just drained and want my head petted and told I'm pretty. But I believe with his help I'll get there.
So....we went to Half Priced Books so he could indulge me in my obsession with collecting old books on all things sex. (Have you abused yourself recently, Fawkes? ::giggle::) The drive there, he kept his hand on me-constantly. It was comforting, that he wanted to be there and he showed it. Then we went to the Chinese restaurant that I had told him about (and had been subsequently craving since) and gorged on lo mein and stripped chicken and those irresistible fried wantons. We talked about my drop, we talked about the importance of all of this to me and how wonderfully and naturally he's been with me. I love him so for everything he is. When I had to drop him off, I felt those places were a little less dark, a little less big. I didn't mind as much as I have in leaving him back into the world where I can't always be there to protect him-the process of being us as we are after everything turned out to be an effective source of aftercare for me. While I felt bad about my behavior earlier, it wasn't holding. I felt good and right with everything....he did too.
Happy Domme, happy sub, impulses be damned....that we find more ways to connect, play and recover will mean we are better for it....and that's all anyone can ask for.
-Afina
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