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Wednesday, December 7, 2016

Where Things Start to Feel (a tiny bit) Dangerously Real

It went well.

Of course it went well.

I told him I had a past that affected my sexuality in a way... yadda, yadda, yadda.

I told him that I faked some orgasms. He said that, if anything, that hurt more and asked me to please not do that. If I don't have one, that's fine, we'll find a way together.

Shit be getting kinda real in a "sure, okay" shrug of shoulder aint no thang kind a way.

And over this past 2 weeks, so many other things have happened. He asked me about my fantasies, I said I couldn't nail down just one as the fluctuate, but they all boil down to one thing usually, either a) intimacy so profound that you have earth shattering orgasms or, more likely and often  b) sex where I'm being slightly dominated and my body simply there for their pleasure - and often there is more than one of them. There, I said it.

I don't like to admit to that because I'm afraid/ashamed that my desire for that comes from my experience, that on some level I'm trying to recreate what happened all those years ago.

Ugh. There, I said it. Ugh, ugh, ugh.

He wants me to tell him my fantasy, but that right there is why I can't.

Anyhoo, the funny thing is: I've mentioned, he's a real talker in bed, to the point where I laugh because it seems silly. He also likes to be a little dominating and pushy at times, which I also thought was "pretty cute."

But then, I realized that some of what he does/says IS THE SHIT THAT IS IN MY FANTASIES.

hahahahahhahaha.

So, the other morning, as he was working at making me come with his hand while he's fucking me, he's whispering in my ear dirty little words. Instead of thinking it was a him thing, I listened. I followed him, the sound of his voice, to where ever he was. I let him take me there. I let go. 

It was fucking fantastic. 

Shit be getting real. I love it, but it scares me that it will scare him. I can see we're falling in love. I lay in bed with him in the mornings ('cause we sleep over now, too) and I love him. I feel shit stir as my skin touches his, as I run my hand along his body. I can feel myself loving him. 

I think we can stay the way we are and still be in love. We don't have to move in or spend every waking moment together. But it is still love and it will continue to grow unless one of us feels the overwhelming need to stop it. 


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