Trying to put in an entry more often so here's today's entry:
Dating BDSM-hipsters right after divorce (Part 1)
I had taken a rather long break from BDSM and been married for 14 years as you may have read above. Dipping my toes in the water of the lifestyle, I joined the website FetLife. I began finding erotic pictures on the internet and writing captions to them as a way to live inside my fantasy world, as well as communicate what I was looking for in a partner to the community.
Rather amazingly, people began to enjoy my writings. Every day (and still to this day) I got compliments and many offers to meet, but none of them seemed like what I was looking for. One day I got a message from a cute, young girl who also wanted to compliment me on the pictures and words I'd posted.
After reading up on her profile and going through her kink list, I decided she more than met my standards for someone to begin speaking to. Over a period of weeks we began speaking, not so much about sexual matters, but just generally about ourselves and what made us tick.
We began with messages on the FetLife system, progressed to emails, and then the telephone calls. She was always the one who initiated the requests for phone numbers or emails. Of course we started sending pictures to each other and after she’d seen me merely in a towel, I flirted a bit and asked to see a pic of her in her skivvies. Looking back it could have been a little early, but if she had refused, I wouldn’t have pressed her.
I began to ask her a series of questions to uncover more about who she really was, letting her know it was the real her that I was interested in – the core of why she was in this lifestyle and what she wanted to get out of it. I wanted to see if we had similar goals in mind, which we certainly did.
We began to speak even more about our jobs and about how our minds were one of the main attractions we had for each other. Phone contact began at her request, which I enjoyed of course. Such a delightful voice, full of joy, intelligence, and spice. After a week or more of speaking on the phone at night, with only about 10% of it being sexual, she proposed I come to see her. It might have been a bit fast, but I credited her with poise and intelligence, as well as the ability to make the decisions of a consenting adult, so we started talking about what that would be like. I told her my intentions were simply “[A] wonderful date with no requirements or demands other than to have fun.” She asked what I was planning, so I went with the non-pressurized old standby of “A nice dinner and perhaps a movie like Superman or ice cream and a good bookstore.”
Before jumping into such a date, I probed more about her comfort level with certain types of play both in messages and over the phone during multiple discussions. We discussed safewords, hard limits, as well as toys and costume choices. Over several more days we kept learning more about each other, with fantasies and sexy talk being a major part, as would be expected. Long-term goals were discussed, as well as how we would theoretically court being in two different cities.
Eventually I determined a span of two days that I could come see her. I had planned on staying in a hotel, but she offered to have me stay with her. Looking back, I should have stayed in the hotel for several reasons. When I arrived Thursday afternoon, I made sure to arrive when she told me her roommates would all be present, and waited outside the house with a present of a very nice, leather-bound journal with silver gilt edges for her to begin writing about our experiences. Dressed for our dinner date, I was warmly received and there was instant chemistry. Not even a pause for a moment of awkwardness. She was the student, hipster type. Played guitar and ukelele. The southern, academic, kinky version of Zoey Deschanel. Beautiful, insightful, funny, kwirky.
I checked in with her roommates, checked to see if she and I were on the same page about events, and then collected her to show me to our restaurant. We had a lovely meal at a very expensive restaurant (on me of course), during which we continued to talk about our pasts, our futures, and she did a wonderful job of seeing through to the real me. I ordered what I thought she would enjoy (she did) and picked up the bill.
It was really only then that we made any contact, simply holding hands on the way back to the valet, as vanillas would do.
It was time for the movie, so I treated her to a black and white Dr. Strangelove at the historic Alabama Theater. She began to curl around me which I encouraged and there was a bit of superficial touching, though she did tell me during dinner that she was pantiless. Nevertheless I kept control of myself and we were a perfect little 1950’s couple at the theater.
The walk back to the car and the ride home were magical. It was the most relaxed first date I’d ever been on up until then. As if best friends were becoming something romantic for the first time. The complete opposite of that kind where you pour energy in all night and there’s nothing coming back. We read each other’s minds in wonderful ways and inspired the best in each other. We listened to each other. Not just staying quiet and waiting to talk, but were really both invested in learning more by listening.
When we got home, I offered again to go to a hotel, but we discussed it and made a joint decision against it. Discussions about sleeping arrangements became discussions about play limits and fetishes. One thing led to another and we began to play.
I shouldn’t divulge the nature of this encounter other than to say it was so successful (according to her physical responses and own words afterwards) that it lasted until 3 in the morning and encompassed many different styles of play: orgasm control and denial, rope play, spanking, breathplay, and her entry into subspace.
I was able to control myself to an extreme degree so that it wasn’t even close to being about me getting off…but learning about her body. What pleased her. Where she was pleased. What things seemed to be a waste of time, physically speaking, and what things were too far. I specifically took long moments during play to help her find a still place in her core. Sometimes it was to let her revel in how good she felt. Other times it was so she could express a need for me to change things up a bit. I never hurt her out of emotion or pain for pain’s sake. I always respected her limits and made great efforts to make this an enjoyable experience for her above my own pleasure. Afterwards, we kissed and cuddled, and I listened to her review of the entire nights events, so that I could continually improve.
We had had so many weeks of discussion that I felt we weren't rushing anything...we were two consenting adults doing what we wanted and discussed doing already. Where I didn’t try to take control or force any submission. And that had continued throughout the beginning of this first date to the point where by the time we got home, we could have talked for weeks more.
That was how interested in each other we were. And in fact, once we were done at 3 a.m. we headed out to her front porch where we talked more about non-sexual things like family, religious beliefs, and her children. I opened up as well about my family, my former life as a preacher’s son, and my wonderful mother who was an academic like Casey. Once we went inside there was a lot of sweetness and we fell asleep with her head on my chest.
Friday morning: Despite getting only 4 hours sleep we were both up at 7 a.m. The poor, bohemian student had cupboards as dry as a desert so I walked down to the corner market and bought them out of, well, just about everything. I wanted her to have everything she needed, long after I was gone. So bacon and juice, and jam and fruit, and many other things came back in a bag with me so I could be sure she would be fed for many days to come. It was a duty I shouldered gladly.
We seemed to zone in on our shared love of the 1950’s household and what a great example of it her parents are. It was only natural that I offered to take her shopping for clothes that might fit the part if we wanted to try out such roles ourselves. Putting her in charge of driving my car, she chauffeured us to the mall where it was a delight to give freely what I had to make her happy and dress her in the style we both enjoyed. On the way back we bought her a large supply of coffee for her special coffeemaker and again, I felt secure that my responsibility to care for her, as well as my joy of doting on such a sweet, wonderful girl, were accomplished.
The entire afternoon, we reveled in being a couple. Not in an overtly emotional way, but just by hanging out, her feet propped up on my lap, and chilling with her other female roommate. Science and music and academia were discussed and pondered and philosophized about until right before dark. Casey did us the honor of showing us her high school picture album and it was ten tons of fun.
That was when her roommate, who had obviously been high on pot already, offered us both some pot. I don’t do drugs of any kind, but am not the kind of guy to judge others for usage, as long as it’s not a destructive influence. Casey wanted to partake, and asked me if it was ok, and I thought two hits was a decent compromise. Looking back, this was a mistake.
To Be Continued
Me - male, 42, poly, straight, in a serious relationship with Audrey, also casually dating.
Audrey - female, 20, poly, pansexual, also casually dating.
Last edited by vanquish; 03-21-2014 at 08:34 PM.