Monday, 02/02/2009 - 10:03 a.m.
So my boyfriend is some kind of kinky big-ass slutboy and I just found out this weekend. Our sex life has been pretty damned good in all the time we've been together (year 5 this year!) and our BDSM life has evolved slowly but surely. The more comfortable he got with me and realized I was not going to push him farther than he wanted to go, the more I could hurt him physically. The bite I inflicted on him back on the 3rd is *still* tender and it scarred up a little - my teeth marks are very clear. That's probably the worst bite I've given him and 3 years ago or so I couldn't have done that. Progress is a *wonderful* thing.
I didn't push heavy verbal abuse on him because it didn't seem like that was his thing. Well, it is. It's taken me 4 1/2 years to find the right combination of words and tone of voice but I finally did. I didn't push my kink of smothering on him because he has asthma and the last thing he needs is my 260+ pounds fat ass compressing his chest. Not the face sitting/queening kind but the full-body-stretch-out-on-top of someone else kind where s/he can't get a deep breath. That was a go, too. I didn't push manual strangulation on him, either, because his big thing was me wrapping a flogger around his neck and choking him that way.
Well, I corkscrewed myself down on his dick and did it *all* Saturday night and he took it all like a champ. We put his inhaler within reach on the night stand and I went to town. Made him turn purple, dug my nails in his chest, slapped his face, put my hands over his nose and mouth, made him cry, and came my brains out. And then felt a little guilty because I was really really really mean to him. We kissed and cuddled and all was right in our world. He showed me his bruises last night as I was leaving and I was giggly and giddy all the way home.
DC has been off-kilter since the Memorex moment last week so I think he's due for some spanky-spanky time, too. We'll find out tonight.
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