Armchair Submission
• Sensual Pleasures
We watched The Pet yesterday. Ho boy… Thankfully pet has done the honours of writing up what we thought of it but overall, it was not much; though we did find some of the depictions of submission, pet play, and that triangular cage fun to watch.
Afterwards we talked for a couple of hours, mostly about our personal developments and hopes and expectations for the future. For me, one of the best things about being in a kinky relationship is the conversations it spawns. To say we talk about sex or BDSM would be cutting it short. Long, meandering conversations which weave in and out of pertinent topics, hopes and fears, and tickle the erogenous zones of our psyche.
We would talk a lot without the kink-life, since we are both thinkers, but the openness that you learn from sharing your deepest fantasies (with a view to acting them out) is a godsend - especially for me since prior to this relationship I had trouble letting people ‘in’ and relaxing into company.
After the talking died down I mounted him and let some of that freaky energy out that’s been driving me crazy. Since pet has been ill for a while his reduced lung capacity makes it hard for him to be mobile, so play is limited for now by what I can do to him as he sits in a chair - apart from the times he gets down to caress my boots.
We tried to do some mild play before today but I couldn’t really get into it with him coughing all the time, but that’s cleared up now, leaving him more able to get into the trance. It is the glazed look in his eyes that mostly guides me. Without that I can’t be sure he’s enjoying what I’m doing, which is OK to a point, but in a scene more akin to lovemaking (as opposed to, say, a brutal flogging scene, oh, what is that image doing in my brain, I wonder?) it’s a wonderful thing to have.
So I hugged, clawed, kissed, bit, scraped, slapped, sucked, tugged, fondled and cropped away at pet for I think over two hours while he sat there, much of the time with the small clothespins on his nipples. I love running my fingers over the contours of his face, the bridge of his nose, eyebrows, cheeks and lips, and he instinctively kisses anything I put hear his mouth (most usually my hands or fingers).
At one time I spat on him and began drooling onto his face (somehow I don’t think he was prepared for that!). Elsewhen I got the urge to blow raspberries on his chest and neck (please don’t ask me why - maybe because my mother did it to me as a child).
Eventually it was late (funny how time works like that) and I let him rest before going to bed. Still no collar, but it was satisfying and left me with a lovely afterglow and damp undies.