Practice

My break-up and consequent getting-back-together with Adam totally kinked me out.

I sort of equate the changes that have occurred in me and with us since the break-up to a near death experience. Though I've never had a near-death experience, (except with the kidney stones in 2004, just kidding, I didn't almost die, but damn, those hurt) I imagine that after you have one, you suddenly feel the urgency to do the things you never did. To express the things you've never expressed. To take the bull by the horns and fuck that bull really hard. Er. No. That's not what I meant. You know what I meant.

Since the boyfriend and I have gotten back together, I have:

1) worn a pink wig while sucking him off.
2) cleaned his apartment and made his bed as foreplay.
3) engaged in Mommy/Little Boy play.
4) received bites from him on my back while he fucked me from behind, obtaining huge alien bruises.
5) fucked him while his roommate slept across the room.
6) gotten tied up and been made to squirt with the Eleven.
7) been choked with cock.
8) gone to Paddles, the friendly BDSM club, with a best friend from high school.
9) made plans for beatings with other men.
10) masturbated in front of Adam and gotten off to him telling me details of another girl's blow job the week before.

That last one is the biggie.

I had been wondering what they'd done. I knew it was everything but penetration. That's what he'd told me, in brief. But after riding Adam that afternoon and feeling his cock pulse inside me while his ass wore his new Njoy butt plug (gulp), I felt the need to get off one more time. With my hand. And his words in my ear.
I started to get wet. My fingers started to glide more easily over the hot little button.

"Did she make you cum?" I asked.

...

"Yes."

"How?"

"With her mouth on my cock and her hand jerking the shaft."

"Ahh."

"She kept jerking my cock as I came. The cum splattered all over my stomach."

"Sounds so...joyful," I said, circling my clit with my two fingers.

"Yeah," he said, his mouth near my ear.

I tucked my head into his shoulder. In that crevice where it meets the arm. I came shortly thereafter. Yelled a little bit. Inhaled and exhaled. And smiled. Wow, I thought. I managed to get wet and turned on by the details. The scary details. The hot details.

In a way, this was a test I wanted to give myself.

This is all brand new territory. I don't know what the fuck I'm doing. I'm just trying to listen to my heart really hard. To his heart really hard. I'm never exactly sure of the emotions all this open relationshipping will bring up. But I'm eager to feel the good stuff. Because contrary to popular belief, this open relationship stuff isn't all about just processing jealousy and envy and insecurity. It's supposed to be about processing joy. Even with this particular challenge, this challenge of sharing this man that I love, there has to be joy for his joy. It's tough. And awesome. I feel like I'm becoming a better girlfriend. And he's becoming a better boyfriend. And that makes me happy. I just want to get better. At being happy.

Happiness takes practice.