Tuesday, May 24, 2016

Some sort of relationship

So Giant and I are in agreement that we have "some sort of relationship". No lables as of yet, but calling it a relationship is progress enough. I'm happy with that.

Meanwhile, I'm trying to settle into a new sort of routine, juggling the three of them. I spend 2-3 days per week with T, 2-3 days with Saint, and 1-2 with Giant. Sure, it's a bit stressful never being more than a night or two in the same place. But that was the case when I just had T and Saint as well. Another place to sleep doesn't really change that much.

Yesterday, for example, I was at Giant's place. It was calm. Nice. We spent much of the night talking, about everything and nothing. And we watched an episode of a TV-show. Everyday things.

And he rode my stap-on like he was at a rodeo, arching his back and moaning, while humping me. He had the wildest grin on his face, his eyes half-closed. Very sexy. I've got a sore spot on the mons pubis, where the base of the strap-on dildo was repeatedly and forcefully rammed into me. And he's got really sore muscles in his thighs. All well worth it, though.

I also sucked his dick a lot. I teased him relentlessly, edging him, not permitting him to come. Since I love sucking his dick, that just prolonged my joy, while tormenting him.

Great fun, all around.

Saturday, May 21, 2016

Afraid, but determined

I'm feeling really fragile these days. As if I'm made of glass, I'm so easy to shatter. I think it's a combination of stress and illness (a bad cold), which has made my depression rear it's ugly head again. I knew it wasn't completely gone, it's just been more dormant lately.

Saint and I went to a party at our local BDSM club last night, and we did two suspensions. Great fun, and I learned a lot, but afterwards I felt really worn out. As if I would crack if you looked at me the wrong way. Also, the other day with Giant, I started crying. I usually laugh when I orgasm (it's a neurological thing), but that time I cried. I think it's been a couple of years since the last time that happened.

Why so fragile? Well.. I keep feeling that I'm not good enough, that I don't perform well enough. I'm not good enough as a wife, or as a girlfriend, or as a dominant. So even after two great sessions of bondage and learning with Saint yesterday, I broke down in tears. Because I was convinced that it hadn't been enough. Not good enough, or hard enough, or long enough, or deep enough.

Saint tried to convince me otherwise, and at least he made me realise that these feelings are all in my head. The feelings are very real for me, no doubt about that. But Saint is happy with me. He believes I'm good enough. So while the feelings are real, they aren't based on actual facts. They are real, without being true.

I think my relationship with Giant is at the core of my issues, but I was having problems figuring out how. So I write this blog post, in order to self-analyze.

First of all, going from one two relationships to three is a big change. Not just for T and Saint (whom I've spent the last month worrying about), but also for me (whom I've not worried about enough, maybe). I had worked out a pattern, a set of habits, for when I was with T and when I was with Saint. And that was my whole life. My day-to-day, ordinary life. A third partner changes those habits, and I need time to find a new equilibrium. A new weekly routine. This is not bad, not at all, but it's new. And new is scary, especially when one is already struggling with mental illness. I think that's part of it, and hopefully it will work itself out eventually.

Secondly, and perhaps most importantly: I feel so lucky to have Giant in my life. I feel disbelief, almost awe, that this should happen to me. That he would even be interested in me. I've known him for so long, I had never imagined that this would happen. Disbelief is definitely the right term here.

In addition to those feelings (this is still connected to that second point), come my feelings for Saint and T. I love and cherish them so much. I'm happy in both relationships, I love how the three of us interact with each other and support each other. I can't believe how lucky I am to have a wonderful, supportive, loving husband, who's willing to lead this polyamorous life with me. And that I would have been able to find a boyfriend, who suits me so well on so many levels.

All this luck, this bliss, it makes me afraid. I'm so afraid that it will all end. That one of them will get fed up and leave me. That I'll be too much, or not enough. That they will wake up one day, realise how I really am, and stop loving me. I guess I feel like I'm not really worth loving. That I don't deserve them, any of them.

Have I always felt this way? Yes, I think so, but to a smaller degree. The depression is pushing those feelings to the forefront, and the recent changes going on in my life (introducing Giant) makes them more difficult to handle. On the other hand, I wouldn't want anything else either.

What do I mean by that? Sure, I'd like to not be mentally ill! That's not what I meant. I meant that given the facts, the realities of my life, I can't imagine a better way to live. Because when all is said and done, I love them. All three of them. And I dare to think that they might love me too, for some reason. They want to make this work, and so do I.

I want to make it work. I want to live this weird, polyamorous life, and I want to love and laugh and enjoy. No matter how afraid I might be. I'm just glad I don't have to hold on to all this fear by myself. I'm so grateful that I have some wonderful partners whom I can turn to for support. They make it all worth it.

I won't let my fear of it all ending tomorrow, stand in the way of my happiness today.

Friday, May 20, 2016

Cum shots

It's a porn stereotype that if men can't come inside of a woman's pussy, they should come on her face and chest. It's typically called a cum shot, and since it's so much more visual than coming inside of someone, you see them in porn all the time.

I've never been a fan of cum shots. Neither watching them, nor experiencing them.

First of all, I'm not that fond of the taste of semen. I haven't swallowed someone's load in years and years, because why should I? I don't particularly enjoy it. I don't actively hate it or anything, I just don't find it pleasant or sexy.

Secondly, I have serious issues with eating yucky things (or seeing people eating yucky things). That's the main reason why I have problems watching TV shows like Fear Factor, for example. It makes me feel sick. Even forcing Saint to eat his own cum is kind of grossing me out. I find it really hot to humiliate him into doing something he really hates. But I still find it kind of disgusting. And hot. And disgusting. (A very confusing experience, let me tell you!)

Third, I really don't like getting semen in my hair. It happened once or twice, when I was a teenager. I've always had long or semi-long hair, and with semen it gets these terrible, sticky tangles. It's annoying.

Fourth, I just don't see the point. It's messy and sticky and gets everywhere.

I talk about cum shots with most new partners eventually, and every single one has basically reacted by going "meh". As in "I don't really care" or "I never understood the point of that" or "It doesn't particularly turn me on". Every single one... Until Giant.

I don't know how the subject was broached originally, but I ended up letting him come on my chest and throat while we were in the shower. Simply because he'd told me that the idea turned him on. Being in the shower already made it easy to rinse off, and since I was the one jerking him off at the time I could more easily control the direction of the spurts.

I know that in porn, cum shots can be degrading and humiliating. But it felt nothing like that. I was in complete control of him. He was doing this because I'd told him to. I was clearly the dominant one, no matter who was physically on top.

Afterwards, he had a really favorable reaction to that scene. I could see in his eyes that this was something he'd really, truly enjoyed. We also talked about it, and he told me he'd greatly enjoyed it. And so yesterday, while he was sitting on my chest and I was sucking his dick, I let him come on me again. And then we did it one more time, late last night. Both those times yesterday we were in his bed, not in the shower. And one of the times, I did get some semen in my hair. And it was sticky and messy and made tangles. And BECAUSE he was so obviously turned on by it, it wasn't so bad...

I think it's the same as with latex. I used to actively dislike latex. I didn't like how it smelled or how it felt and certainly didn't want to wear it. But then Saint and started playing with it, and BECAUSE he really, really loves latex... My mind got changed. It wasn't something I did on purpose, it just happened. Now, when I smell latex, I get happy. Even before I've recognized the smell. And I think of Saint. And I associate it with sexual stuff. All because Saint really likes it.

Human sexuality is so malleable. We adapt to our partners' desires. That's really fantastic!
So while I'm still no great fan of cum shots... While I still wouldn't choose that particular activity for my sake... While I still really dislike semen in my hair... And while I'm definitely not turned on by cum shots.. I think I could be, with time. Because of him.

For him.

Wednesday, May 11, 2016

...and the low point.

Let me start off by saying that tonight was great (objectively). I've had a lot of fun experiences and enjoyed myself tremendously. However, not everything is smooth and easy going, and I have a need to express that side of things as well.

Caveat: I'm currently really tired, and probably in a mild domdrop. It's also around 3am, and I need to get up early tomorrow to catch a flight. This blog post will not be well thought out nor properly revised. I'm sorry about that. I might just delete it at some later date, if I wake up tomorrow and find the post too weird.

Late tonight, while talking with Giant, I touched upon a topic that produced a startlingly strong response. The topic itself is irrelevant for this blog post, but his reaction fascinated me. He was adamant that he would NOT do this thing. He gave me some arguments as to why, but when pushed on them basically reverted to "it's a principle" (also known as "because I say so").

Not only did he feel really strongly, but he also quickly grew annoyed at me for asking about it. This was obviously some kind of sore spot, something important to him. But why? What kind of bad memory did I trigger? Was kind of horrors did he imagine that I can do to him? He obviously feared the loss (or potential loss) of control in this situation, yet kept insisting that it wasn't personal (in other words, yet another "because I said so"). He kept saying that he trusted me, that it had nothing to do with me, he still just wouldn't do this thing.

So of course I kept on questioning his conviction! It's what I do: I ask questions, try to make the other person think, to use reason and then to analyze those reasons. This is the same procedure with almost any topic. Whether he changes his mind of not, doesn't matter that much to me. But I feel a need to know what kind of sore spot I just touched. Why such a strong reaction. What's behind all of this?

In the end, I had to let it go. He'd grown too annoyed with me, and I didn't want to ruin things anymore than I already had. So I pulled him down, kissed him deeply, and tried to lighten the mood. It only partially worked, as he was tired and didn't really feel like talking any more at all (or doing anything else for that matter). So I put him to bed, then drove home.

And now I'm left with this really bad feeling in my stomach.

It's probably just a drop, but it's still very uncomfortable. I'm in a mental state right now where I question everything about myself. Everything I do to other people, and the ways I go about doing them:

If I was right to behave as I did with Giant tonight, this means my technique, my philosophy, when talking with my partners, is ok. However, I feel terrible, and he felt terrible, so obviously I did something that wasn't ok.

But if it wasn't ok, then that means that EVERY deep, prodding, questioning conversation I've had with anyone, ever, was wrong. That I shouldn't question as much, shouldn't push, shouldn't make them reason and present their arguments and force them to think things through.

This means I should accept the initial "no" for a permanent answer, and without question, even when that means limiting the experiences of my play partners. Limiting the trust, the potential of trust, that could be built.

I won't force anyone to do something they don't want to do, but I want to help them take informed choices. To help them see the actual options that exist, in stead of reacting out of fear or old habits. That's why I push, after all. I want to get to know them, and for them to get to know themselves, and for us to build trust, communication and connection. And now, I'm not so sure that's the right way to go about it. On the other hand, I know of no other way.

And so I'm left uncertain of myself. Feel like I've done something wrong, and yet convinced that what I did was right. It's confusing, and tiring. It really did fuck up the end of our evening. And for that I'm sorry. No matter the good intentions, I'm still sorry.

The high points...

Giant came with me to our local BDSM club again tonight. It's his third visit there, and he's getting increasingly comfortable. Tonight there were fewer people, and he was able to relax and even get involved in conversations with a few of them. I also got to introduce him to some of my close friends in the BDSM community.

While he loves bondage, he's been skeptical of the idea of suspension from the very beginning... So of course this is an area where I've pushed and prodded. That's how I roll, after all: I find something he's uncertain of or something that scares him, we talk about it, and then I help him get past it.

We've been experimenting a bit with the box tie, and he's quite enjoyed that, but haven't had a suspension point from which to hang him. Luckily, our local BDSM club has several available suspension points. I would have been well pleased with a partial suspension tonight. We were unsure how he'd react to playing in a communal play area, and I was very unsure of how comfortable he would be with any form of suspension. However, it turns out that I was able to make him feel safe and secure. He was able to shut out all the background noise and the people watching, and just enjoy himself while under my care. And so he ended up flying in a full suspension for a couple of minutes. And he loved it.

My technique is rusty, so to make certain things were secure enough I probably made the rigging unnecessarily difficult for myself. I need to practice more, and luckily both Giant and Saint are glad to be my bunnies.

Also, I discovered that I don't have enough rope.
My ropes are all 6mm linen hemp. I originally had 6 lengths (bought from ESINEM), and then I got 3 that are about 1m shorter than the others (a mistake in cutting, but it doesn't really bother me), and then I bought a few more (2 lengths, I think) from an acquaintance in the BDSM scene. And I've had to cut up only 1 length, after a mishap with Saint in the shower over two years ago.
That SHOULD leave me with 10ish (or more, can't remember exactly how many I bought from that acquaintance). I'm currently only counting 8, and considering Giant's tall and muscular body I really wouldn't have had enough with 10 either. I need to buy more rope!

After calming down and chatting more with some friends, we went to one of the private play areas. I tied him to a St. Andrew's cross, and spanked him a bit. While he was physically able to take more than I gave him, I noticed that he was getting mentally worn out. So I stopped. But what little we did was fun, and well worth it.

We went back to his place afterwards, and ate watermelon. Or rather, he amused himself (and me) by eating/licking watermelon from my naked body. It was his idea, but I was more than happy to comply. He would touch the watermelon to for example a breast, I would gasp from the cold, and then he would lick and suck my breast warm again. In between, he would feed me some watermelon as well. It was really flirty and fun and innocent. A lovely scene.

To wash off the sticky watermelon juice, we headed to the showers. That also lead to some sexy fun, as I'm sure you can imagine.

These are the good things that happened tonight. I'm glad of this night, and I'm glad to be playing with Giant. It's worth it, despite the occasional low point.

Friday, May 6, 2016

The talk

Yesterday, Giant and I had the important "what are we feeling for eachother, and what does that entail"-talk.

It started out with him claiming, as late as Wednesday morning, that he had no feelings for me at all. That was followed by my blog entry where I accused him of keeping me at an emotional arm's length. Not because I want to force him to feel something that he doesn't really feel, but because I demand honesty and open communications.

We did do some playing as well, and I'm currently introducing him to orgasm denial. That's fun for me, and fun and frustrating for him. But mostly, we talked. And cried a bit. And talked some more.

I've previously told him that I'm in love with him. Yesterday, he admitted to being in love with me too. That was a big step for him, and I know it wasn't easy. He's scared of being hurt again. Scarred. Although, no matter what happens in the future, and who hurts whom, he still thinks this will have been worth it. And so he knows he's not reacting rationally. But he's still scared.

As for where we are going, the answer is basically "nowhere". I can't offer him anything more than what he's already getting from me. (Which is fun, friendship, and mutual enjoyment.) In fact, I should be offering less. I can't keep seeing him three days per week. T and Saint need my time as well. And I need some time for me.

And lately, T has not getting any time with me at all. The relationship with Giant has stolen almost all of my attention, and what little I've had left has gone to Saint. He's had issues he needed to work through and has needed my help. T hasn't needed me as much, so he hasn't gotten anything. I feel bad about that, and I miss spending time with him. Luckily, T and I are going on holiday to Spain next week, so we'll see a lot of eachother then. I'm looking forward to that.

I know that I fall for people, fast and hard. It's only been about three weeks, but I've grown to care so much for Giant already. I can't compare this to the love I feel for T, or for Saint. It's different. This is too fresh, too new and too untested. But therein lies some of the appeal as well. A new perspective, a new set of eyes, a new mind to invade, a new body to corrupt.

Giant and I are like a fresh sheet of paper and a new box of crayons. I'm not sure what colours we'll turn out to be, or even if the drawings will look any good in the end. But it's certainly full of possibilities.

Thursday, May 5, 2016

Yes, ma'am

I saw Giant again on Tuesday. He came with me to an introductory munch at our local BDSM club. His first time there, but I doubt it'll be the last.

Afterwards, we headed back to his place. We didn't have much time, but made good use of what we had.

I tried some verbal humiliation on him for the first time. He found it interesting, but I'm uncertain how much he really liked it. I also slapped his face (which I enjoy) and spat on him, and again I'm uncertain if he actually wants more of that or not. He didn't use any safe words, and I know he was willing to take it... But there's a difference between being able to take something, and actually wanting to experience something. Further experimentation is needed to establish whether humiliation is something he can enjoy or not.

He also fingered me and was able to make me come, for the first time. And he got to feel a full body rope-harness for the first time. For the first time, I was able to spank him until he cried. Not much, but enough.

He didn't get to come when he wanted to. I'm teaching him about edging. He enjoys that. And hates it. As it should be.

When chatting with him online, he once called me Ma'am. I don't think he meant much by it, then. Just a flirtatious comment. I've never been a fan of using titles in BDSM. My name isn't "Mistress" or "Madam" or "Goddess" or whatever silly title subs make up for the women controlling them. I think it sounds silly, even in porn. And in Norwegian, it sounds even sillier. However, having HIM call me "Ma'am" sparked something in me. I still found it silly, but I was also... fascinated. We discussed it and agreed to give it a try.

In real life, it's difficult to remember having him use the title. And it still sounds kind of silly to me. However, I also quite enjoy it. I enjoy his reaction, how this obviously appeals to him. It turns him on, and that in turns makes me turned on. The circle of BDSM play. The circle of life.

Being true to yourself

I adore all the men I play with, if only for the duration of the session. No matter how casual, no matter how poorly we match. When I play with someone multiple times, and we both have fun and enjoy ourselves, there is no way I can stop myself getting a serious crush. I knew this would happen with Giant, and don't see it as a problem. I don't want anything more from him than what we already have: Fun and friendship. And I can't offer anything else either. Falling for him just means that I feel closer to him, more trusting, happier, and our play becomes even more intense.

I'm not bothered that he doesn't feel the same way. Not everyone falls for people as fast as I do, and that's fine. What keeps bothering me a bit, though, is his callousness. Coldness. Don't get me wrong: He enjoys what I do to him. and is grateful for the experiences I offer, of that I'm in no doubt. But no matter how intense, how intimate the experiences, I feel like I'm being held on an emotional/mental arm's length.

No matter how much I care for him, I get the feeling that he won't even let himself really like me. Let alone care for me. Like.. If he started caring for me, he could also run the risk of falling for me. And that scares the hell out of him, I think. I doubt this is something he's doing on purpose. He was grievously hurt when his previous relationship ended about 8 months ago. He's afraid to get hurt again.

Like I said: What he feels for me, or doesn't feel, doesn't really matter. The two of us have fun and friendship. And it can't be much else. But I want him to be true to himself. Honest. This feels a lot like he isn't. It feels a lot like he isn't trusting me, or maybe not trusting himself. In keeping me at an emotional arm's length, he's keeping himself from having the best experiences that he could have. And I want to help him, in any way that I can.

Because I care about him. Even when he doesn't care about himself.