Sometimes I am blessedly naïve about the world of porn. Friday’s date and my partner both seemed slightly bemused that I have had no knowledge of this video. The subject came up in regards to progression and diversity of limits as in:
“It’s not like the girls in 2 girls, 1 cup started there.”
I was naïve enough to ask what 2 girls, 1 cup is… if you don’t know Google it. I suggest reading the wiki entry on it, and no I didn’t watch it and YES that is very far outside of my limits.
As was explained to me the thrill for those fetishists is everything they are doing, is repelled by the body. The body is screaming ‘no! no! no!’ and it’s that visceral impulse that – for them – turns them on and screams ‘yes! yes! yes!’ I am holding firmly to the belief that there is not enough money in the world to convince non-fetishists to do that.
It does bring me to the troublesome topic about what does turn me on, get me going – what am I looking for? You may have noticed that I’m having some difficulty articulating these details, mostly because I think I have yet to discover many of them.
Reading this blog thus far will give an overview that I really enjoy sex, have a thing for anonymous sex, have a series of thoughts around forced fantasy, struggle with the meaning of submission and did I mention really like sex. Luckily for me Friday* did some pre-date reading in advance of our encounter.
Credit where credit is due, the man is good and knows what he is doing. Would I go back for more? Definitely – if he is interested.
He did not produce a large trunk of toys or implements and instead kept things basic; although, there was nothing ‘basic’ for me about the intensity of the experience.
I find myself yet again in a scenario where I know Friday is significantly more experienced than I am. Which, is something that I’m really coming to enjoy about this more thorough search process.
There was a movie. I think it had sharks. He was a gentleman and we did the talking thing first – in more detail than we could at the pub. My inability to articulate what it is that I’m looking for likely inhibited any deep insights, or maybe my lack of clear direction can be an insight in and of itself. Not sure how helpful that is.
Reflecting on the evening I’m not sure how much he planned and how much just flowed well. Stretching out on the couch he positioned himself so that he had full access to me, but I could not touch him very well. I didn’t think much of that until he had taken me into the bedroom and I realized that I hadn’t touched any part of him covered by clothing.
He played rough for me, what I’m guessing is mild-rough for him. Pushed me onto the bed (good height for a bed) face down. Direction was minimal, he told me to put my arms out straight in front of me. I felt a condom wrapper hit my back and he was getting undressed when there was that line that made me whimper:
“So you have no idea how big I am?”
It’s not exactly and unfamiliar theme with men. And, I’ve lost count of the amount of times a man has said it online. Fair to say that I take those comments with a large grain of salt (maybe a cup or two). That [implied] claim does however take on a completely different tenor when said immediately pre-penetration. A man who says that at that exact moment is either overly self-confident, or is not lying.
He was not lying, and high praises for a good long session of foreplay otherwise I’m reasonably sure I might have fainted. For those male egos out there, size does count for something, but it is not everything. You do need to know how to use it… maybe more so if you are well endowed.
Case in point: I have had encounters with two men who were of similar dimensions and it was difficult and a little painful both times. Neither session lasted long, and hand jobs were the feature du jour in both cases. Not the case with Friday.
I’m assuming he had more than a little fun dropping that surprise on me. I was likely more surprised at how well he ‘fit’ in me than he was. The theme for the rest of the night from my end was ‘no self control’… none what-so-ever. Any measure of physical self-control I had learned in London was completely out of the window. I could not control my screaming, staying on the bed, my arms, grabbing… no nothing. It was a lot of fun to loose that much self-control.
Another “thank you” owed to Friday, and this one is a little sensitive to admit for me since I consider myself to have had a reasonably high number of partners. I am not the easiest woman in the world to get to cum. Sometimes I deal with it myself and I consider it a good encounter if a partner can get me off on a first encounter. That being said the other line of the night that caught me by surprise was me saying:
“Oh fuck, was that the condom that broke or me.”
He pulled out… the condom was fine. You may be wondering how I could not know it was me. At that point he had brought me to climax more than a few times, and there is only one other person who has EVER gotten me to produce any significant amount of fluid. So, to have that happen on a first encounter was not expected and safe to say my reaction was at first “shit do I still have a plan B prescription at home.”
Then there are my own short comings. Namely oral at that size. Generally I think I’m pretty good with oral, but not having had the 2 girls, 1 cup discussion at this point I was seriously afraid I was going to vomit on him if I pushed to take anymore. On the one hand – yes I really like oral, yes I really like to be face fucked roughly – but it seems wrong to puke on a guy on the first date. Is there an etiquette guide for that?
We had decided earlier that restraints on a first encounter were not going to be used. Instead he held my hands behind my back taking me from behind again. At this point I was so over-sensitized that control was not happening. He did keep a hold of me though, and then called break.
I was a brat after break. He was trying to warm me up again with some slapping, pinching and teasing – it wasn’t working for me. Award for most tactless line of the evening:
“I like the rough sex, you’re good at the rough sex… very good, but I can get that anywhere.”
Okay well maybe ‘anywhere’ is an exaggeration. Definitely an exaggeration. I’ve had few partners who are as active and engaging on a ‘just sex’ level. But that is the difference, I think, between a search for sex hookups and BDSM. I have the sexual attention span of a gnat… “that was good… what’s next!?” I really need a psychological or creative engagement for my mind beyond the initial shock of sex with a stranger.
Luckily for me he decided not to kick my bratty ass out right then (totally warranted). The instruction: hands behind my head, keep them there – if I didn’t he was stopping right away and kicking me out. I bought it. I love games, he was also believable, and I’m sure he knew how much I wanted him to fuck me again.
I tried, I tried really really hard, and went longer than I thought I could, but eventually gave in. He played his hand and stopped right away. Busted.
I’m glad he’s a compassionate lay, he relented after a few seconds with the rationale that the game is to give me a task and then make it as difficult as possible to complete, the game is over when I fail the task – no pointing continuing beyond then. That and he had noticed my intolerance for denial play.
Next steps remain unknown. Proof that I would have a challenge with him was a not small amount of blood when I went to the bathroom to clean up – no pain though, so I am happy. I am definitely inexperienced next to him, which I like but a lot will depend on if he wants to pursue things with a partner as inexperienced as me. That and I was a brat, which I’m not always, but that’s always a factor. I’m keeping my fingers crossed none-the-less.
*I need some sort of non-identifiable naming convention for dates now. I think I’m going with Switch, London and Friday. The last of which is the least descriptive, but I’m thinking that due to proximity that’s a good thing.
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