Insurmountable?

Talking with Elle yesterday, I realized something: I don't expect our relationship to last. I'm frantically trying to get as much out of it as I possibly can, cram as much awesome into it as possible, because I feel that my days with her are very finite.

So anything that gets in the way of optimalizing our time together stresses me out, even something like one of us feeling tired or arriving a bit late. Because it feels like I'm waisting time that could be spent better. I can't just relax when I'm with her, can't just hang out in the same space. I don't just shrug and think we can always do whatever-important-thing some other time, because I'm constantly feeling like there won't be another time. That the entire relationship is on a timer.

Why? Because I firmly believe that she's better than me. 

She's younger, thin, fit, strong, gorgeous. Infinitely desirabile. She has so many options out there, why on earth would she stay with me? She's a 10, I'm a 2. At least in terms of appearance.

She doesn't see it that way, doesn't compare appearances like that, doesn't value her own looks. Just like someone who's always been privileged, don't see their own privilege. 

On the other hand, I know more than she does, about a lot of things. She says I challenge her intellectually, and she loves that about me. I'm good with words, curious, interested in lots of things, and generally like to think I have a functioning brain. But... I've always had that, so (like a privileged person) I don't put much stock in it. Don't value it. Don't see that as desirable.

Is it fatphobia talking? Dysphoria? I hate my body. Hate so much about myself. And I'm a mental health wreck. I can't wrap my head around why someone would want to be with me, but especially not someone magnificent looking like her. I constantly expect us to implode somehow. Not that she'll leave me, necessarily (though I find that likely), but that something somehow will break us.

I might have been burnt by my short relationship with Cord too. We went from all lovey-dovey to complete flaming breakup in a matter of a few hours. There were issues, sure, but there's always issues in a relationship. Question is if they're surmountable or not.

I don't want to loose her, I want us to work out.. Though I don't know if we will, if I keep being so high strung around her. This might be a self-fulfilling prophecy.. And I don't know how to step out of that spiral. Just like I don't know how to make someone like me when they initially don't, I don't know how to make myself trust someone (or some situation) when I initially don't. I worry that might be what's insurmountable in the end. 

Golden Retriver vs The Groak

Elle has a girlfriend, my metamour. Lets call her Liberty. They've been together for the same amount of time as Elle and I, give or take a week or two. 

They are closer in age, Liberty is about 3 years older than Elle. As oposed to my 12 years. They also seem closer in temperament. Goofy, extremely creative, they share ideas and experiences on a very different level than Elle and I seem able to. Sexually they are also really compatible. I bring nothing to the table that she can't get from Liberty, and there's stuff Liberty can do (sexually) which I can't. In addition, she's cute, intelligent and interesting. And available. I constantly feel like I don't measure up compared to her, in bed or out of it.

I like her. I just want her to like me. She doesn't. She's afraid of me. Intimidated by me. She sees the mask of control I put on when I'm nervous, and thinks that's the real me. Thinks I'm really in control. Thinks I know what the fuck I'm doing all the time. Can't seem to see that it's masking. It's a coping strategy. Just like my grandmother with dementia, I control the situation and the conversation and thus appear more lucid than I really am.

I feel cast in the role of the popular kid at school. The bully who knew they were on top, and made sure to keep everyone else down. The very people me-as-a-child was afraid of. And now that apparently is me. Some big, scary creature. Like The Groak from Moomin. (Whilst I see myself more like a golden retriver, who just wants to play fetch and be scratched behind the ears. A lovable ball of fluff, who wouldn't hurt a fly. How can I be something so different in Liberty's eyes?!?) 

She's clear that this is her anxiety talking, and she takes full responsibility for that. Fine. That doesn't really change anything for me, though. Her opinion matters to me. And right now, that opinion isn't as favourable as she seems to think it is.

Also, she's clear that she can't handle seeing me and Elle together. Even to the point of us being in the same building as her, when we play or cuddle. This is in the way of them moving in together. Even with separate bedrooms, it wouldn't be enough separation for Liberty. She couldn't handle having me there. So I'm in the way. Blocking perfectly feasible plans, through my sole existence. And there's nothing I can do about it.

Nothing except back out, that is. Remove myself from the equation. If Elle wasn't with me, she'd have more time to be with others (Libery included), they could move in together (away from Elle's crazy room mate), and Liberty wouldn't have so much anxiety about all of this. It solves everything for them.

Not for me though. And if I am to believe Elle, not for her either. She wants to be with me, or so she says. Me and Liberty both. I'm full of doubt about that, but in the end I still love her. I don't want to give her up, if I can find some other way. I just don't know how to fix this.

How do you make someone like you, when they clearly don't?

(Addendum: Evenings like this, I miss being able to cry. This feeling of "I'm just about to start crying" has lasted for hours and hours now. Getting it all out would have been a relief, but testosterone makes it almost impossible.)

Lots of kinky sex

Elle and I are having a lot of kinky sex, and there's just so much I haven't written about here yet. For example: 

-More consensual non-consent. Last in the form of her begging me to stop, while I'm fucking her. Hot as hell, we both loved it. Will absolutely do it again. She's also requested being fucked or facefucked while asleep/half-asleep. Will try to make that happen too, at some point.

-Watersports. I've peed on her twice now. Just like when doing rope bondage, it's currently too much fiddling, setup, and false starts, for it to really feel sexy.. But I'm hoping it'll get easier (and therefore sexier) with practice. It's currently very interesting, but certainly hotter in my mind than in reality. 

-Age play. We've done it a tiny bit, but our roles relies too much on Elle playing innocent and unwitting. The pressure of that play acting makes it less appealing for her, I think. So we need to work around that somehow. 

-Elle's birthday was set up as an intimate play party. At one point she had five people touching, hitting, tickling or pinching her. It was a dream come true for her, and I'm very glad I was able to pull it off. It didn't get overtly sexual, but that's hopefully for some other time. Later that same night, I played with wax for the first time in what I think is 20 years... I covered her back with wax while she was lying on the floor, assisted by two female friends of hers. Fun, and not as scary as I thought it would be (I actively dislike open flames being toyed with.)

-Fucking machine. Elle owns one. I've tried it twice now, on me, once with her assisting and once alone. The idea is hot, but I feel like it could be better in reality. I struggle to get the angle right, and the dildo that comes with it is a bit on the small side. Still: Fun. Next up is tying her down and letting it pound her hole too. I think I'll enjoy watching.

-Predicament bondage. Elle owns an anal hook, so we tried a tiny bit of predicament (anal hook attached to a low neck rope) while she was in a hogtie on the floor. It's definitely something I want to explore further, preferably with her standing. (Just need somewhere up high to attach her.)

-Gridning toys. I've ordered a Gind and a Medusa from Darque Path. The Grind in medium firmness, the Medusa in firm. Estimated shipping late January. Very excited about them, hope they feel the way I want them to feel. 

-Double dildo. The FunFactory one. So-called strapless strapon. Isn't actually strapless. Worked well enough with the support of a harness, but is completely smooth where it hits my clit, so didn't do a whole lot for me. Maybe I could put a grinding toy inbetween there, once they arrive from the manufacturer..?

-Simultaneous orgasm. Happened tonight, actually. Elle was fucking me, kneeling on the floor, while I was lying on the couch. This gave me room to play with the wand (Doxy Die Cast wand) at the same time, which made me come. She orgasmed while I was in the throes of mine. That isn't something that usually happens, so it was a fun experience. 

-Other stuff: I've also fingered and fisted her seveal times, she's rimmed me once, she's given me oral (both on prosthetics and on my own bits) several times etc. I've made myself come (using the wand), while biting her... Just because I get turned on by the sounds of her pain. 

So yeah, lots and lots of kinky sex. It's fun. I want more.

Orgasm at 60%

I knew it would probably happen, and it has: My orgasms have changed since I started testosterone.

The build-up is just as intense, just as sweet. The craving for release just as intense. But the orgasm itself feels... Muted. A single explosion, more than a rolling wave. Perhaps 60% as intense and satisfying, compared to the old 100%. I started noticing it a few weeks ago. 

It's annoying. Makes me wish I was munti-orgasmic. Or at least that I could come many, many times during a sexual encounter. I can't, though. If I come once every 30 minutes, that's a lot. And the orgasms become exponentially more work as I try to have more of them. So usually I don't bother after the first one or two.

I've been 9 months on testosterone now, and there's so much I love about it. So much that feels so right. This part, though..? I wish I could do without this part. Also the acne. Hate the acne. 

Another fantasy - heavily inspired by Elle

Content warning: Age play, consensual non-consent

(Caveat: This is a fantasy scenario involving consenting adults who engage in sexualized roleplay. In no way or form do I condone or desire anything like this with real children. Children cannot consent. This is a pre-negotiated scenario between adults who can use safewords to withdraw consent. In this scenario, "no" doesn't actually mean "no".)

The fantasy:
I grab your arms quite roughly, and cuff them in front of you. No gentle leather cuffs this time. No ropes. Handcuffs only. Cold, biting, unyielding steel against your wrists, keeping your arms contained. Giving you a serious disadvantage, if you were to start fighting me.

You're looking nervous, innocent and somewhat bratty, in that short skirt and top. You're barefoot, wearing just a pantyhose underneath the skirt. Arms stretched uncomfortably in front of your body, your chest squeezed together by your upper arms to form the very beginnings of a cleavage. You look young. You look delicious.

"Take off your clothes." My voice is already husky from desire. 
"What?!? No!", you say. As if I'd asked you a question. 
I grab your cuffed arms, and stand very, very close to you. Menacingly, I say: "First: You'll call me Sir. Secondly: I wasn't asking. Take your clothes off now, or else.."
"Or else, what?", you ask cheekily. Trying not to sound intimidated, but I can hear the slight hesitation in your voice. I can see the way your eyes avoid mine. 
"Sir", I remind you. "Or else your clothes will be removed for you", I say, clearly enunciating each word as I grab a pair of scissors from a nearby table. "Now, last chance: Take off your clothes, little girl."

"No, Sir!", she throws back at me, in a bratty tone of voice. "No, I don't want to!" You're playing tough, but I can tell you're starting to worry. 
"I forgot to mention something", I say, grinning, a sadistic gleam in my eyes. ""No" doesn't exist today."
I grab the scissors and take a step towards you. You back away, fear in your eyes, your cuffed hands up in front of you. "I'm just a little girl, Sir! Why are you doing this to me! You can't do this to me, Sir!"
"That's right", I grin. "You're just a little girl. And I'm the adult. I make the rules, I decide. I can do whatever I want, and there's nothing you can do to stop me."

Scissors in one hand, I grab your arms with the other and pull you closer to me. "Now you get ONE choice", I say firmly. "Stand still, or get cut."

Putting the scissors against your belly, I start cutting into the fabric on the side of your top. You squeal, equal parts ticklish and scared, but you have the sense to stand still. Cutting up through the arm hole under your arm, I grab and tear through the last piece of fabric on the sleeve. Just because I can. Because I want to show you how much bigger I am than you. How weak you are, compared to me. 

Cutting along the shoulder, I come to the side of your throat. You're turned partially away from me now, silent and trembling. Eyes downcast. I make quick work of the rest of the top and tear it away from you. Then I remove your skirt in a few quick motions. Underneath you're wearing pantyhose. Through the sheer fabric I can also spot cute cotton panties. Typical for a girl your age. As I put the scissors to the edge of the pantyhose, near your hip, you gasp "No!" and try to move away from me. I grab onto the pantyhose before you can move too far. "That word doesn't exist today", I remind you. "And you were to call me Sir." I continue cutting and tearing at the pantyhose until all I can see on your legs is your young, beautiful skin.

"Better", I mumble, as you stand before me. You're naked except for panties and handcuffs. You stand slightly bent forward, trying to conceal your body from my gaze. You're clearly embarrassed, and somewhat worried for what comes next. I grab onto your upper arm and pull you towards the couch. "Come here", I say firmly. "Kneel on the couch for me, facing the backrest."
"What are you doing to me, Sir? No! I don't want this!", you protest. You struggle a bit against my grip on your upper arm, but quickly realize I'm much too strong for you. 
I don't answer you, just attach the handcuffs to the rope already prepared. It's tied under the couch, on the other side, so while you're not tightly bound other than by your wrists, you still can't get anywhere.

"Sir, what are you going to do to me?" You sound worried now, kneeling backwards on the couch. Your head is turned towards me, struggling to see what I'm up to, your arms cuffed to the rope on the backrest. I don't answer you, just carefully open my belt buckle. This makes you more worried. By the sound of my pants hitting the floor, you've turned around to the cuffs and the rope. Pulling at it, twisting your wrists, trying to find a way out.

I'm hard, and looking at your young, almost-naked body makes me even more turned on. I move closer, and you glance back at me, still struggling to free your wrists. Not getting anywhere. One look at my crotch, and I can see you blanch. You've never done anything like this before, but you must have some idea of what I might do to you. Some idea you won't like it. Your attempts at freeing yourself grow more frantic, but I can see from the set of your shoulders that you know it's no good. You're not getting anywhere, until I release you. 

I grab hold of your panties and push them down, exposing your bum. Then I take the scissors and cut them all the way off. I'm excited now, impatient. A gloved hand with some cold lube make you gasp and squirm. I stand behind you and slightly to the side, forcing my way into your hole, first with one finger, then with two. Your body is thrashing under me, as you start begging. "Please Sir, no. No, no, no! I don't want this. Please stop, Sir. I'll do whatever you want, just please don't do this. Sir, please."

I ignore your pleas for a while, as I finger you. Making sure you're lubed up and as open as you can go. You're a young girl with a very tight hole, after all. And you're struggling. This won't be pleasant for you. Luckily I don't have your pleasure in mind tonight. Just my own. And your pleading just makes it better. 

"Really?", I ask mockingly. "You'll do whatever I want, if I just stop what I'm doing now?"
"Yes, Sir! Please, Sir, please, just stop this! I'll do whatever you want!"
I grin as I withdraw my fingers. "Will you be my good, little girl now? Will you stop fighting me, as long as I don't use my fingers on you like that?" I stroke her hair with my other hand, comforting her. 
"Yes, Sir!" She leans into my hand, defeated and embarrassed. "Thank you, Sir. Anything but that. I don't want your fingers there." She shivers.
"That's my good girl. I won't use my fingers inside of you anymore... I'll use my cock in stead."

Your head shoots up, eyes wide, horror written in your face. "No!", you gasp. 
"What did I say about that word?!", I say sternly. "And you forgot to use my title again. For that, I won't go as easy on you as I had first intended. You really, really don't want to make me more cross with you now, little girl. Or you'll be even more sorry." I roll a condom onto my dick and lube up. Grabbing your waist and hips, I make you bend down more so your bum is sticking out. As I line my dick up with your hole, you start begging again.

"Please, Sir. Why are you doing this to me?! I don't want this, stop, please!" Ignoring your pleas, I start pushing inside you. One long, slow, steady motion. Indomitable, I spear you, as you howl. "Noooo!"
I laugh, as I bury myself in your hole, and your shieks turn to moans. You're so full of me, right now, and you've got nowhere to go. I pull back out and push in again slowly a few more times, before I increase the tempo. When you can catch a breath, you keep begging me to stop. I don't answer you, and by now I don't think you really expect an answer either. 

I moan as I plunge in and out of you, occasionally changing the depth or the speed to make you moan or shriek a bit more. I enjoy the sounds you make when I'm inside of you. You're so tight, so warm, so young. Beautiful, fragile, innocent. It's like your body was made for me to take, dominate, defile. Your pleading turns to mumbling and moaning, as you're shaking in your bonds. I think I see tears falling from your eyes, but by now I'm not really paying attention to what your face is doing. You're just a hole now, for me to fill.

When I can't take anymore, I lean over and untie you from the couch. I pull my dick out of you, then place you on your back on the couch, stretched out with your cuffed arms over you head. Straddling your slim, smooth body, my weight holding you down, I rub myself on you.Your head is turned away, eyes closed and brimming with tears, but I don't care. You're mine, I'm the adult here, and I can do whatever I want with you. Straining and panting, my face sweaty and red, I rub myself on your body until an orgasm explodes between my legs.

I lie on top of you, panting, in post-orgasmic bliss. Slowly getting up, I notice that you're covered in my sweat and other bodily fluids. Your face is soft, your eyes red and swollen. You blink at me, like a wounded animal, and I smile down at you. I unlock the handcuffs, and pull you close to me in a hug. 

"You did good, little girl. I'm very happy with you. Come on, cuddle up in my lap for a while. Then we'll get you in the shower afterwards."

A fantasy excerpt

Content warning: Age play, consensual non-consent

(Caveat: This is a fantasy scenario involving consenting adults who engage in sexualized roleplay. In no way or form do I condone or desire anything like this with real children. Children cannot consent. This is a pre-negotiated scenario between adults who can use safewords to withdraw consent. In this scenario, "no" doesn't actually mean "no".)

(Also please note, I use "he/him" pronouns for myself in this story, because it's purposefully playing with male stereotypes. I prefer people to use "they/them" pronouns in real life (unless I've told you otherwise, specifically). All references to genitalia are made vague on purpose, so this text is very trans friendly.)

The roles: 
Y: An older, adult man

E: A young girl

The fantasy:

Y: *warmly* You look beautiful, my little one. Twirl, let me see all of you. 

*E twirls, smiling*

Y: Come closer, let me take a look at that skirt. 

*Y touches E's skirt, feels the fabric*

Y: I like this skirt on you. 

E: Thank you, Sir. 

Y: Bend over a little for me, will you. 

E: *light resistance* But Sir.. 

Y: Come on now, it's no big deal. Stand right here, hands on this desk. 

E: Yes, Sir. 

*Y walks around while studying E*

Y: You are a good girl, aren't you E? 

E: Yes, Sir. 

*Y touches the back of E's thigh, just where it meets the skirt*

Y: And you want to do as you're told, right?

E: *more hesitant* Yes, Sir. 

*Y slips his hand a bit further up E's thigh, touches lightly*
*E shivers lightly*

*Y gently begins to raise the hem of E's skirt*

*E makes a hesitant attempt to stop him, reaching to adjust her skirt*

E: Sir, why are you..?

Y: You want to make me happy, don't you little girl? I enjoy touching your skin; whether it's your arm, your face or your thigh. There's no reason to stop me from doing that, is there?

*Y touches E's arm and face lightly, then returns to the thigh*

Besides, you're a beautiful, sweet, young girl. I like looking at you. I can't look with all this fabric in the way, can I?

*Starts raising the hem of the skirt again*

*E is standing with her hands resting on a desk, bent lightly forward. Her skirt pushed up to the small of her back, held in place by one of Y's hands. Underneath are panties, with a cute pattern on them.*

Y: You're my good girl, aren't you? You want to please me, right?

E: *hesitant* Umm.. Yes..? I guess so..

*Y starts to pull down E's panties*

*E stands up, pulling her panty into place, her skirt falling down like it should*

E: *firmly* No, Sir, you can't do that! 

Y: Now, now. Children don't get to make the rules. Children listen to adults. And good, little girls do as they're told. You said you wanted to be my good, little girl, right?

E: *hesitant* Well, yes... 

Y: Well then, you can turn back to the desk please. And this time, I want your elbows on the desk, not just your hands. Come on now, no dawdling. 

*E hesitantly turns back to the desk and does as she's told, bending over further than previously*

*Y moves E's skirt up again, and gently strokes her thigh*

Y: See, that wasn't so hard, was it? I knew you could do it, my love. You're my beautiful, little girl after all.  

*Y starts to pull E's panties down again, exposing her butt cheeks*

*E stands back up again, pulling the panties back up*

E: *very firm* No! I don't want you to do that!

*Y grabs hold of E's ear*
Y: *firmly* I thought I made it very clear, you don't make the rules. You don't get to decide. I'm the adult here, I tell you what to do. Not you. 

*Leads E to a chair, sits down, pulls her over his lap*

Y: You aren't behaving like a good young girl should. You're being a bad girl right now, and bad girls needs a spanking. 

E: No! I don't want you to hit me.

*E squirms to get away*

Y: Lie still! You aren't doing what you're told, so this is the least of what you deserve. If you lie still and take your punishment, it won't hurt as much. And it will be over quickly. 

E: Ok, fine!

Y: *firmly* No, that's NOT how you talk to me. Do you want even more punishment, is that it? I'm very disappointed in you now. 

E: *defeated* Sorry Sir. Just please don't hurt me, Sir. 

Y: I will spank you, love, because that's what you deserve. But I won't hurt you any more than I have to. 

*Y flips E's skirt up, and spanks her a bit with his bare hand*

Y: I'm not done with you, but your clothes are in the way. Stand back up, please. 

*E stands up, questioning*

Y: Now please remove your skirt. 

*E removes the skirt, standing with hands over her crotch in an attempt to hide her body*

Y: Get back down here over my lap. 

*E gets back down*

*Y spanks a bit more, significantly firmer*

*E squeals and squeaks*

Y: Have you learned your lesson now? Do you know who's in charge here?

E: Yes, Sir. 

Y: And who is that? Who gets to decide what happens here? 

E: You do, Sir. 

*Y hits E a few times more, then stops*

Y: Get back up and place your elbows on the desk again

*Y starts stroking E's thighs and ass again, then starts pulling down her panties*

*E squirms a bit, clearly uncomfortable, but remains silent*

*One ass cheek is revealed, then the other, panties get pulled down to mid thigh*

Y: You're such a good, little girl for me. I'm not hurting you now, am I?

E: No, Sir, this doesn't hurt. 

*Y pulls the panties all the way down and off, then keeps stroking E's thighs and ass*

Y: In fact, I think you're quite enjoying this. Spread your legs for me, girl. 

E: But Sir, I shouldn't... 

Y: Come now, we just went through this. Who's in charge here? 

E: *defeated* You, Sir.

*E spreads her legs, while still leaning forwards with her elbows on the desk*

*Y strokes her down the ass and further forward between the legs*

Y: *triumphant* Like I suspected. You like this. You're turned on by this! You dirty, litte girl! 

*E is clearly embarrassed, stands back up, moves away and covers her crotch with her hands*

E: No, I'm not! 

Y: Good, little girls don't lie. They certainly don't lie when adults ask you direct questions! Put your hands on your head, please. 

*E shakes her head, still covering herself*

Y: *very firmly* Do you want me to get angry with you? You really wouldn't like it when I'm angry, little girl. That soft spanking you got earlier is nothing in comparison. Now, DO. AS. YOU. ARE. TOLD: Remove your hands and put them on your head. NOW!

*E clearly shaken, does as she's told, embarrassment coloring her face, her eyes downcast*

Y: Better. Now let me see. Spread your legs for me. 

*E stands with her legs spread, hands clasped behind her head, eyes closed from shame*

*Y touches her between the legs, notes her obvious desire*

Y: *gleefully* My girl.. My dirty, dirty little girl. You're such a slut! Is that a way for a good, young girl to behave? 

E: *mumbling, clearly embarrassed* No, Sir.

Y: You want more, don't you? You crave it. 

E: *hesitant, squirming, but unable to deny it* Yes, Sir. I want more, Sir. Please, Sir. 

Y: You can take your hands down. Then get down on your knees for me, here, over by the chair.

*E does as she's told, grateful to get out of the very revealing and embarrassing position*

Y: You say you want more.. Do you want to please me? Will you do as you're told now, when I tell you?

E: Yes, Sir. Please, Sir. I want to please you. I want to make you proud. 

*Y removes his pants and underwear, then sits in the chair in front of E and spreads his legs*

Y: Then you may kiss me. Here. Take this in your mouth, to lick and suck. That would please me greatly. Will you be my good, little girl and do as I tell you?

E: *nods* Yes, Sir. Like this, Sir?

*E begins to use her mouth between Y's legs*

Y: Exactly like that, my sweet, little girl. And don't stop. I know you can do this. 

*E proceeds to go down on Y, for a good long while*

Y: You're such a good girl, I'm so proud of you. You can stand back up now. Elbows on the desk, please. 

*E wipes drool and other liquids from her face and lips, while getting into place*

*Y touches her on her ass and between her legs*

Y: *affectionately* You're such a horny girl. Such a beautiful, slutty, dirty girl.

*E squirms, clearly from pleasure, though with a fair bit of embarrassment too*

Y: Now keep your legs spread wide, I want to feel how much of a slut you really are. 

*Puts on a glove and some lube, then starts playing with E's hole*

*E moans lightly*

Trying three again

So far, I've met Novice three times. We've also spent many, many hours talking over phone and video. We can meet maximum once every two weeks, because that's all I have time for. Elle and my family share the rest of the week between them. I have no intention of changing this. 

As I was afraid of, I've fallen in love with Novice. And the feelings are reciprocated. 

I've tried juggling three romantic relationships before several times, and it hasn't worked out. Several times. However, those relationships were supposed to be equal. My relationships to Saint, Elle and Novice aren't. They aren't hierarchical, in the sense that one of them gets any say in what I do with the other two.. But there's definitely a hierarchy in terms of time. Novice doesn't get an equal part of my time, that just isn't on the table. It's absolutely not fair, but it's all I can offer. The alternative is not do be a couple at all, I think. Maybe, just MAYBE, this solution will enable me to make this work. To prevent me from burning out. I really hope so.  

Novice and I have a staggering amount in common. Not in terms life experiences, by all means. Novice entered the kink scene four months ago, and has had very few sexual encounters before that, for example. No kids, no long term partner, and no previous experience with polyamory. However, our references almost completely overlap. We've obviously spent time in the same parts of the internet for years and year, we know the same memes and pop culture stuff. We've also read many of the same books, we enjoy the same sorts of movies, and we have strongly overlapping tastes in music. Our minds also work similarly in this regard, so we find ourselves making the same references when we speak. It's fascinating. 

We recently played Agricola together for the first time. Novice had never played it before, and yet I lost. That was unexpected, but very, very fun. (Agricola is always fun, I love that board game! I've taught it to Elle too, and Student.) I want to play again.

That same evening, the 3rd of December, we had sex for the first time. I haven't written about it before, because it felt comfortably uncomplicated. Similar to my encounters with Student, it felt.. Easy. Like it should be. 

That doesn't mean Novice found all of it simple.. or at least Novice's asshole didn't, when I pushed a finger deep inside... We'd talked about it beforehand, of course, and I've fingered people before. So it didn't feel complicated or difficult FOR ME. Also, despite not much experience, Novice seemed talented in the "playing with a pussy" department. Especially my clit really enjoyed what was being done to it. That was an unexpected and really pleasant surprise. Despite this, I'm fairly certain I'm not seen as a woman anymore. I worried a bit about that beforehand, but I think it worked itself out.

And the rest of it was... Sweet. Pleasurable. Good. I enjoy getting to know a new person, learning what works and what doesn't, how a new body wants to be touched. And being in love sure doesn't hurt, either. Hopefully, meeting up once every other week or so will keep our feelings for each other on a low simmer; Enough to maintain them, not enough to make them flare so powerfully that this limited scope doesn't work anymore. We get along really well. I want this to work.

With a closed fist

Last night, Elle asked me to hit her thighs and upper arms with my closed fist. I've never hit anyone or anything with a closed fist before. Not in kink, not in real fights, not as a child at play, not at a gym, not frustratingly hitting a couch pillow, never. So at first, I was very apprehensive, but I quickly got the swing of it. The thud as my fist hit, the moans and screams of pain, the reverberation throughout her arm or leg, it was very interesting. Intense. Fun. I need to do it more, I want to build more strength in my wrists and arms. 

Then she asked me to bite her, and I was thrilled with that request. The sadistic urge to hurt, combines with the primal urge to bite, control, dominate, own. It's a heady rush, crawling all over her body and holding her down, while biting and growling at her. 

Then she asked me to stop, while VERY CLEARLY signaling that she wanted me to continue. We haven't played much with cnc before, but what little we did was fun. I DEFINITELY want to explore that much more. The session then organically evolved into a verbal humiliation kind of game. I called her worthless, a plaything, a sex toy, an object that I can use, nothing more than a thing. A useless, little thing. All of that WHILE I was riding her, fascinatingly enough. 

The penetration messed it up a bit for me. I couldn't keep getting pleasure from that, while telling her how useless she was. The cognitive dissonance became too great for me. So I eventually had to stop it. She seemed a bit disappointed, and I hate to disappoint, but it was getting too much for me. I'm sorry about that, but stopping was still the right thing to do. I haven't played that heavily with humiliation in... at least 4-6 years, I think. 

I want to do it again, though. Maybe while riding a strap-on strapped to her, in stead of her own junk. I think that would be easier for me (and another tool for humiliation). I also want to spit on her next time. We hadn't talked about it beforehand, but now we have. And she's agreed. 

All in all, I love the directions our kink is developing. It feels like nothing is off the table, all options are open. She encourages me, perverts me, and we explore this all together. It's fun, intense and really sexy. I love it. I love her. 

Secrets

Once previously, I've put restrictions on myself with regards to this blog, because of who would be reading it. That didn't go well. I'm in a similar situation now. 

Not because there's someone nitpicking over what I write about them or anything like that, but because of secrets. Specifically, I know a big secret about someone close to me. I can't write about it here, because others who have access to this blog don't know that secret yet. And it's really not my secret to tell. 

It's quite a paradox, really. Because although it's a big secret for that person, it doesn't really affect me directly. It doesn't feel difficult for me, or like something I'd have a need to write about other than as a passing mention. 

However, BECAUSE I have to keep this knowledge from others I care about, THAT makes it difficult. I detest secrets, I detest dishonesty. I feel like I'm lying to my loved ones, by keeping things from them. 

I accept the situation as it is, because it's not my secret to tell. And I respect that person a lot and don't wish to loose their trust. So this isn't intended as a way to make them open up about their secret, this isn't intended as manipulation or whining. They'll have to open up in their own time, when they feel ready. 

This is simply me letting off steam and dealing with my feelings in the only way I can: By writing. That is all. 

Edit january 2024: The secret here was that Novice was a trans woman. She came out to everyone in late 2023, so it's no longer a secret.

Same sex, very different wrapping

Elle and I had really interesting sex yesterday. In terms of activity, it wasn't wildly different from what I've done before: Fondling her, spanking her a bit, calling her a slut, fingering her and fucking her. For the second time ever, I came while I was inside of her, which is absolutely amazing.. And we managed doggy style (me standing on the floor, her kneeling on the bed) really well, which is a first... But the activities still don't feel like anything revolutionary... The wrapping / stage / skin of the scene, however.. That made all the difference, and THAT felt revolutionary.

What do I mean by "wrapping"? It's the roleplay stuff. Clothing, posing, pet names, titles, way of talking, all the little things that don't have anything directly to do with the sex.. But which puts the sex into a specific setting. An easy example from the kink world would be the difference between getting beaten because you really want a beating and asked for it, versus getting beaten because you've been bad and deserve "punishment". The activity is the same, the "feel" for the scene can be very different. I use the term "skin" for this too, inspired by that way to personalize computer game characters (or digital mp3 players in the early 2000s), where the aesthetics are the only real difference.

Yesterday's scene had an "ageplay skin". We still have a ways to go to make it feel more believable, but it was a good first attempt. I told her she was my little girl, and forced her to admit how horny she was and what she wanted me to do to her. Telling her that no proper little girls behave like that, that she deserved to be spanked. Made her beg me to fill her up, then gave her what she wanted while calling her a dirty, depraved young lady. It felt incredibly taboo, and turned me on to no end. I'm getting wet again just writing about this. 

We talked about it later, and I asked for a bit more resistance from her next time. Not a wrestling match, just a bit more hesitation and modesty. I know she's really horny as hell, but in order for me to defile her she'll have to start out more innocent first. She seemed to really like the idea.

 As with anything I'm really into, I worry that the other person isn't... That's she's humoring me, or going along to please me. But I remind myself that she's the one who brought up age play to begin with. And she's confirmed repeatedly that this is something she wants to explore. That makes me really happy. I'm glad we can share this process, figure stuff out together. 

Sexual awakening

My sexual awakening happened at a nudist beach, and involved a dick. 

I was 12,5 or 13,5 years old. I think 12,5 is the most likely. I'd been going to that beach for years with my parents, it felt familiar and safe when I was a kid. But as a kid, you're oblivious to a lot of things...

Before then, I'd been touching myself for years. Especially in the bath. I'd also been giving myself orgasms by rubbing my crotch against something firm, like straddling snow mounds or while in a saddle (on a horse). They weren't the mind-blowing, body-shaking stuff I get now, but they were nice. I enjoyed them. They didn't FEEL sexual though. Slightly forbidden in that "don't let people know what you're up to" - kind of way, sure.. But it was just something my body did, like breathing or speaking or shitting. Seeking pleasure felt natural.

That summer, things changed. 

Next to us, on that nudist beach, was an older man. I remember him as white-skinned, but very suntanned, somewhat wrinkled, and with a bit of a belly but otherwise fairly lean. Though to be fair, I'm not sure if "older" means 40ies or 60ies, I can't really recall. What I CAN recall, though, is his dick. He lay on his side, facing us.. Facing me.. And his dick was semi-errect. It felt as though he was looking at me. As though he was turned on by me. And I liked it. No, I loved it. 

He moved further away from us after a while (I guess my mom glared at him or something), but placed himself further down towards the surf.. Looking up, he would see right up our crotches. So I made sure to spread my legs a little. Not by much, I didn't want my mom to notice.. But enough. I remember this so, so vividly. The taboo, the excitement of being watched, all of it. 

This wasn't the first time I saw a dick. I've grown up in a fairly nudist household, we'd typically all share a bathroom in the morning. I'd seen my dad and my little brother naked lots of time. But to my recollection, it was the first time I saw a dick erect. 

I awakened something in me. Changed me. I realized later that this feeling was exhibitionism, and I kept exploring it later that summer and the summer after; Walking around in the forest near my home, in a short skirt and no underwear... Lying down to masturbate in secluded spots where I could imagine myself being watched. Enjoying the idea of being desired... (Perhaps because that had been such an impossible dream up until that point? I'd been bullied for most of my life, after all. I wasn't anyone's first pick for a girlfriend. In being desired, there's also a level of acceptance that I was craving.) 

Was I an exhibitionist? I'm sure I was, and still is.. But now I'm wondering if it might also have been something else. Was I projecting? Making my desire FOR a dick into a desire to be viewed BY someone with a dick? Or is that a stretch? 

Some of my most exhibitionist fantasies have turned out to be about gender after all: Like this fantasy I have about lots of people with dicks jerking off while watching me, preferably while standing over me... Well, lets just say it's not about the people. My focus is wholeheartedly on the dicks jerking off. And the more I focus on them, the less I care that they're watching me or have anything to do with me. I just fantasize about the jerking off - part. That's really what I want. A dick. 

I've already made this realization once before, regarding some cnc fantasies that were really about dysphoria... It would make sense if my exhibitionist fantasies were really about something else too.

I don't know... This feels like a stretch, and at the same time not. Feels like I'm onto something, but haven't quite hit bullseye yet. Will need to keep digging at this one for a while.