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Monday, March 31, 2008
sad for so many reasons
Not only is it just sad that this is the best I can come up with after over a week of no postings, but look at this pathetic rating! I scored low on cussing? On my sex blog!?! That's just sad.
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Tuesday, March 25, 2008
boundaries
The post about cheating got me thinking about a related issue: boundaries. Another one of the ill-advised disclosures I made to Mera on our first date was that I have really bad boundaries. So bad, in fact, that I didn't think twice about telling her.
Obviously I'm aware of my bad boundaries, but until recently I have considered this to be an interesting quirk, another fun, wacky thing about me that makes me unique. Hence, it has never occurred to me to try to curb my boundary-breaching tendencies. Often I find myself on the edge of some risky and somewhat titillating experience and a still small voice inside me will raise a timid objection. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" But before the words can register in my brain, I've already leapt in with both feet.
The wake-up for me was sort of anticlimactic. Last month, my most recent ex-girlfriend, SK, was in town. (Forgive me, SK, for telling this story. I hope you don't mind.) This trip to Portland had been in the works for months, long before Mera and I got together, and the plan had always been that SK would stay with me while she was here. Sounded perfectly reasonable to me, however it made Mera a little nervous. I tried to reassure her that SK and I are now terrific friends and no longer sexually involved, etc, etc, but Mera was always uneasy.
Of course it didn't help that I planned to let SK sleep in my bed. It's a big enough bed and we're perfectly capable of sleeping in it together without accidentally rolling over and beginning to have sex. And anyway, I knew that's not the kind of space we were in. To me, sleeping in the same bed was completely innocuous and not the least bit threatening to my relationship and I just wanted Mera to understand that.
SK came and stayed one night then left for a few days to attend a conference. I went out for drinks while she was gone with one of my kayaking friends, a very "normal" sort of person. Older, more conventional than me, like a lesbian aunt who always wants to give me advice and weigh-in on things. I was explaining that things between me and Mera were sort of strained, which I did not relate to SK being in town. Then, later, I explained that SK was in town and, after some questioning, revealed that we were planning to share a bed.
"Wow," she said, stunned. "You have really bad boundaries!" And you know: she was right. Suddenly I realized that my bad boundaries issue wasn't just a nutty quirk in my personality, it was a problem. A problem that I should maybe work on solving. Even though I thought sharing a bed with SK was totally benign, it was making my girlfriend uncomfortable. I was a fool to ignore that aspect of the situation. I realized, looking at my incredulous friend across the table at County Cork, that I was often and regularly a fool, reveling in my bad boundaries and never considering the damage, often subtle, I was causing with my recklessness.
Since that conversation, I have watched myself carefully and started noticing my own pulls towards slightly bad behavior. There are so many opportunities to make a crass joke that's just a tad over the line, or to flirt with someone totally inappropriate, or to slightly encourage the wrong kind of attention. I had no idea how often I let my behavior slide into a gray area, hovering all-too-close to a danger-zone.
For example, there's a woman at work who had a little fling with me last summer. Just a make-out fling that didn't last too long, but a little fling nonetheless. Every now and again she makes herself available for flirting. She lingers in my office, she sends me unsolicited myspace messages, etc. And the old me would have subtly encouraged those behaviors. I would have engaged her while she lingered in my office, I would have responded to her myspace messages. Not because I was trying to start something up, not because I wanted to cheat on Mera or do anything really bad. Just... just because. Just because it was an opportunity, and maybe part of having bad boundaries is being a closet opportunist? Who knows.
So, since my conversation with my kayaking friend, I have stopped myself from crossing these lines. I am professional with my old fling from work, I ignore her myspace messages, etc. When I'm about to make a gutter-minded wise-crack to the wrong crowd, I check myself. I don't do it. Before I would just feel like I was letting a good opportunity slip by, I would regret my inaction. But now I feel powerful, I feel like I'm conserving vital energy and I'm not doing anything subtle but still troubling for my relationship. When I go home to Mera and she asks me if I flirted with "that woman" from work, I can say "No," and know that my answer is absolutely, 100% true. And that feels really good.
Obviously I'm aware of my bad boundaries, but until recently I have considered this to be an interesting quirk, another fun, wacky thing about me that makes me unique. Hence, it has never occurred to me to try to curb my boundary-breaching tendencies. Often I find myself on the edge of some risky and somewhat titillating experience and a still small voice inside me will raise a timid objection. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" But before the words can register in my brain, I've already leapt in with both feet.
The wake-up for me was sort of anticlimactic. Last month, my most recent ex-girlfriend, SK, was in town. (Forgive me, SK, for telling this story. I hope you don't mind.) This trip to Portland had been in the works for months, long before Mera and I got together, and the plan had always been that SK would stay with me while she was here. Sounded perfectly reasonable to me, however it made Mera a little nervous. I tried to reassure her that SK and I are now terrific friends and no longer sexually involved, etc, etc, but Mera was always uneasy.
Of course it didn't help that I planned to let SK sleep in my bed. It's a big enough bed and we're perfectly capable of sleeping in it together without accidentally rolling over and beginning to have sex. And anyway, I knew that's not the kind of space we were in. To me, sleeping in the same bed was completely innocuous and not the least bit threatening to my relationship and I just wanted Mera to understand that.
SK came and stayed one night then left for a few days to attend a conference. I went out for drinks while she was gone with one of my kayaking friends, a very "normal" sort of person. Older, more conventional than me, like a lesbian aunt who always wants to give me advice and weigh-in on things. I was explaining that things between me and Mera were sort of strained, which I did not relate to SK being in town. Then, later, I explained that SK was in town and, after some questioning, revealed that we were planning to share a bed.
"Wow," she said, stunned. "You have really bad boundaries!" And you know: she was right. Suddenly I realized that my bad boundaries issue wasn't just a nutty quirk in my personality, it was a problem. A problem that I should maybe work on solving. Even though I thought sharing a bed with SK was totally benign, it was making my girlfriend uncomfortable. I was a fool to ignore that aspect of the situation. I realized, looking at my incredulous friend across the table at County Cork, that I was often and regularly a fool, reveling in my bad boundaries and never considering the damage, often subtle, I was causing with my recklessness.
Since that conversation, I have watched myself carefully and started noticing my own pulls towards slightly bad behavior. There are so many opportunities to make a crass joke that's just a tad over the line, or to flirt with someone totally inappropriate, or to slightly encourage the wrong kind of attention. I had no idea how often I let my behavior slide into a gray area, hovering all-too-close to a danger-zone.
For example, there's a woman at work who had a little fling with me last summer. Just a make-out fling that didn't last too long, but a little fling nonetheless. Every now and again she makes herself available for flirting. She lingers in my office, she sends me unsolicited myspace messages, etc. And the old me would have subtly encouraged those behaviors. I would have engaged her while she lingered in my office, I would have responded to her myspace messages. Not because I was trying to start something up, not because I wanted to cheat on Mera or do anything really bad. Just... just because. Just because it was an opportunity, and maybe part of having bad boundaries is being a closet opportunist? Who knows.
So, since my conversation with my kayaking friend, I have stopped myself from crossing these lines. I am professional with my old fling from work, I ignore her myspace messages, etc. When I'm about to make a gutter-minded wise-crack to the wrong crowd, I check myself. I don't do it. Before I would just feel like I was letting a good opportunity slip by, I would regret my inaction. But now I feel powerful, I feel like I'm conserving vital energy and I'm not doing anything subtle but still troubling for my relationship. When I go home to Mera and she asks me if I flirted with "that woman" from work, I can say "No," and know that my answer is absolutely, 100% true. And that feels really good.
Sunday, March 23, 2008
fidelity
This has never been my strongest subject and I approach it now with caution. In a comment on my last post, Heather raised the issue of cheating and I figured I'd tackle it. I don't have much else to report on these days (except a nice round of topping Mera last night, which is a rare and awesome treat).
I don't have the greatest track record when it comes to fidelity and I have often proclaimed that monogamy isn't something we should bother with, as a species, anyway. I don't know what happened to my scorpio loyalty, I guess it manifests in different ways. I have cheated (in often very small, yet very still-cheating, sort of ways) on many of my girlfriends. It usually runs this course: I get together with a new girlfriend who I love so much and spend all my time with, I rush into a serious relationship with that girlfriend without thoroughly vetting her, I probably move in with her after about 6 months, all our incompatibilities come streaming to the surface, I go into deep, deep denial for a few months, I don't know what else to do so I end up kissing some woman in a bathroom and my girlfriend breaks up with me.
Sound familiar? I like to think I'm older and wiser now and it's been quite awhile since I've engaged in this behavior, but for a good ten years, this was my m.o. And I don't think I'm the only one ever to struggle with this problem. I think it's more a backbone deficiency than a problem with fidelity. I was too weak to end a relationship that was clearly dead in the water, so I lingered miserably and opened myself up to temptation. I tried a couple of times to avert this tragedy by embracing polyamory, but it never worked. I had an open relationship with my drunk ex-wife, but for some reason I never took advantage of that opportunity to have my cake and eat it too. She did, repeatedly. And I would become insanely jealous and angry. It was a real eye-opener.
Later, after SK and I broke up last summer, I entered a phase of single-polyamory, which basically just meant I was dating a lot of random people and not seriously interested in any of them. As soon as I met Mera, though, all bets were off. Unfortunately, I announced to her on our very first date that I was polyamorous and had cheated on most of my girlfriends. These proclaimations were mostly exaggerated, but tell that to Mera. She believed them completely, as a matter of self-preservation, and she will probably never let me live them down.
She's naturally jealous and possessive -- manifestations of her fear of abandonment and rejection. I can live with all of these because I'm actually pretty jealous and possessive myself and I'm pretty content to cling to Mera and promise eternal fidelity as long as she doesn't leave me. After all, she keeps me pretty happy and we're both allowed to end it all if it stops working for us. I can tolerate her paranoia and her endless questions about every possible opportunity I may or may not have to step out on her, and she's not so crazy that she tries to stop me from doing things, so it works out.
I'll write more about polyamory in another post someday, but let's talk about cheating. Have you done it? Has your partner? Have you ever been "the other woman?" Here are two polls to start the conversation, but please feel free to comment with stories, I love to read what you have to say.
I don't have the greatest track record when it comes to fidelity and I have often proclaimed that monogamy isn't something we should bother with, as a species, anyway. I don't know what happened to my scorpio loyalty, I guess it manifests in different ways. I have cheated (in often very small, yet very still-cheating, sort of ways) on many of my girlfriends. It usually runs this course: I get together with a new girlfriend who I love so much and spend all my time with, I rush into a serious relationship with that girlfriend without thoroughly vetting her, I probably move in with her after about 6 months, all our incompatibilities come streaming to the surface, I go into deep, deep denial for a few months, I don't know what else to do so I end up kissing some woman in a bathroom and my girlfriend breaks up with me.
Sound familiar? I like to think I'm older and wiser now and it's been quite awhile since I've engaged in this behavior, but for a good ten years, this was my m.o. And I don't think I'm the only one ever to struggle with this problem. I think it's more a backbone deficiency than a problem with fidelity. I was too weak to end a relationship that was clearly dead in the water, so I lingered miserably and opened myself up to temptation. I tried a couple of times to avert this tragedy by embracing polyamory, but it never worked. I had an open relationship with my drunk ex-wife, but for some reason I never took advantage of that opportunity to have my cake and eat it too. She did, repeatedly. And I would become insanely jealous and angry. It was a real eye-opener.
Later, after SK and I broke up last summer, I entered a phase of single-polyamory, which basically just meant I was dating a lot of random people and not seriously interested in any of them. As soon as I met Mera, though, all bets were off. Unfortunately, I announced to her on our very first date that I was polyamorous and had cheated on most of my girlfriends. These proclaimations were mostly exaggerated, but tell that to Mera. She believed them completely, as a matter of self-preservation, and she will probably never let me live them down.
She's naturally jealous and possessive -- manifestations of her fear of abandonment and rejection. I can live with all of these because I'm actually pretty jealous and possessive myself and I'm pretty content to cling to Mera and promise eternal fidelity as long as she doesn't leave me. After all, she keeps me pretty happy and we're both allowed to end it all if it stops working for us. I can tolerate her paranoia and her endless questions about every possible opportunity I may or may not have to step out on her, and she's not so crazy that she tries to stop me from doing things, so it works out.
I'll write more about polyamory in another post someday, but let's talk about cheating. Have you done it? Has your partner? Have you ever been "the other woman?" Here are two polls to start the conversation, but please feel free to comment with stories, I love to read what you have to say.
Sunday, March 16, 2008
the tables have turned
Contrary to the impression this blog might give, in most of my past sexual relationships I have been pretty sexually dormant. I have always tended to start each new relationship with a surge of sexual energy that usually lasts the first few months and then peters out and often disappears altogether.
My vanishing libido has been a major source of conflict and heartbreak over the years. In fact, my crazy-drunk-ex used to tell me that she drank so much because I never wanted to have sex with her and she needed the alcohol to numb her against the pain of rejection. Wow.
At the time, I completely discounted this statement and chalked it up to her inability to take responsibility for her drinking problem. Until that time I had never been the one in any of my relationships who wanted more sex than she was getting. I had never lain in bed next to a hot girlfriend and felt the frustration of unmet sexual desire. Sure, I've had plenty of sexual frustration, but not that kind. Once the initial sexual magic wears off, I'm usually content to cuddle and am generally not the sexual initiator whenever sex does finally spring back into the relationship.
Well. Things have changed. As I've mentioned before, Mera has worked a one-woman sexual-revolution on my body. From the word go, things in the sack with Mera have been completely different than they've ever been with anyone else. All bets are off with Mera, I have no idea what I even *like* anymore. I like things I never liked before and I forget about things I thought I used to love. It's unreal.
Sadly, one of the many new things I'm getting to experience in this relationship is sexual frustration. Even though Mera is a voracious top, she's also a full-time grad student, working full-time at two jobs and taking care of a special-needs dog. She's busy, she's tired, she doesn't always have the energy for those two-hour poundings. And in addition to physical exhaustion there's also the complication of our power dynamic and her extremely sensitive top ego. Sometimes a simple-seeming conversation will end up alienating her and making her feel inadequate.
This is at least fifty-percent my responsibility. I can be a little too blunt sometimes and if I put myself in her shoes, I cringe thinking about some of the things I've said to her. And it's not just what I say, but how I say it. In my life I have been called "abrasive," "ascerbic" and (the less evil) brutally honest. I'm usually proud to be all these sketchy things, but these things don't help me in the delicate sexual milieu. "Abrasive" is no way to be when you're trying to gently steer your sensitve lover in a different direction during sex. Try as I might, I sometimes can't keep my attitude in check when it matters most. Mera ends up feeling alientated and distant and my chances of getting lucky any time soon disintegrate.
The other fifty-percent is on Mera, who believes she has a lot riding on her ability to fuck like a pro. In her darkest places, she thinks that's the only special thing she has to offer in a relationship, not necessarily because she's a sexual narcissist with low self-esteem, but because past lovers have given her nothing but positive reviews. How many women do you know who routinely cause their female lovers to ejaculate? I'm telling you, Mera is known for her skills and her reputation preceeds her -- she's in demand to a sickening degree. Three months into our relationship and the late-night booty texts have finally stopped, but there are definitely a lot of very disappointed people out there who wish Mera wasn't off the market.
But I digress... The point is: all those rave reviews from past lovers gave Mera the false impression that being a great lover is all she has to offer. She's already pretty sensitive and she struggles with abandonment and trust issues, so that makes it especially hard for her to hear anything that even remotely resembles criticism of her sexual prowess. I try and try to tell her that I *love* our sexual relationship and don't want her to change anything, even though I would like her to add a few elements, but all she hears at first is a complaint. That makes things difficult for both of us and it often takes her several days to recover her top-confidence and take back the reins again.
This alienation has left me on several occasions laying half-naked next to a snoring Mera, every nerve in my body alive and charged and waiting for the slightest stimulation. I had no idea how awful sexual frustration could feel! Now I have so much more compassion for my crazy-drunk-ex! I'm not excusing her drinking or accepting that my rejection drove her to drink, but I can now appreciate the agony of that kind of frustration. Looking back over all my previous relationships, I can finally see how I tortured so many lovers by losing my interest in sex. I feel like I should go back and apologize to all of them, and thank them for their patience.
What about you? Do you tend to want less sex than your partner, or are you the one lying there frustrated while your partner snores away. How have you managed it? And how have you talked about sexual issues that arise? I'll write more about sexual communication in the future, that's a big topic. For now, what about the balance of desire in a relationship? And thanks in advance for sharing, you guys rock.
My vanishing libido has been a major source of conflict and heartbreak over the years. In fact, my crazy-drunk-ex used to tell me that she drank so much because I never wanted to have sex with her and she needed the alcohol to numb her against the pain of rejection. Wow.
At the time, I completely discounted this statement and chalked it up to her inability to take responsibility for her drinking problem. Until that time I had never been the one in any of my relationships who wanted more sex than she was getting. I had never lain in bed next to a hot girlfriend and felt the frustration of unmet sexual desire. Sure, I've had plenty of sexual frustration, but not that kind. Once the initial sexual magic wears off, I'm usually content to cuddle and am generally not the sexual initiator whenever sex does finally spring back into the relationship.
Well. Things have changed. As I've mentioned before, Mera has worked a one-woman sexual-revolution on my body. From the word go, things in the sack with Mera have been completely different than they've ever been with anyone else. All bets are off with Mera, I have no idea what I even *like* anymore. I like things I never liked before and I forget about things I thought I used to love. It's unreal.
Sadly, one of the many new things I'm getting to experience in this relationship is sexual frustration. Even though Mera is a voracious top, she's also a full-time grad student, working full-time at two jobs and taking care of a special-needs dog. She's busy, she's tired, she doesn't always have the energy for those two-hour poundings. And in addition to physical exhaustion there's also the complication of our power dynamic and her extremely sensitive top ego. Sometimes a simple-seeming conversation will end up alienating her and making her feel inadequate.
This is at least fifty-percent my responsibility. I can be a little too blunt sometimes and if I put myself in her shoes, I cringe thinking about some of the things I've said to her. And it's not just what I say, but how I say it. In my life I have been called "abrasive," "ascerbic" and (the less evil) brutally honest. I'm usually proud to be all these sketchy things, but these things don't help me in the delicate sexual milieu. "Abrasive" is no way to be when you're trying to gently steer your sensitve lover in a different direction during sex. Try as I might, I sometimes can't keep my attitude in check when it matters most. Mera ends up feeling alientated and distant and my chances of getting lucky any time soon disintegrate.
The other fifty-percent is on Mera, who believes she has a lot riding on her ability to fuck like a pro. In her darkest places, she thinks that's the only special thing she has to offer in a relationship, not necessarily because she's a sexual narcissist with low self-esteem, but because past lovers have given her nothing but positive reviews. How many women do you know who routinely cause their female lovers to ejaculate? I'm telling you, Mera is known for her skills and her reputation preceeds her -- she's in demand to a sickening degree. Three months into our relationship and the late-night booty texts have finally stopped, but there are definitely a lot of very disappointed people out there who wish Mera wasn't off the market.
But I digress... The point is: all those rave reviews from past lovers gave Mera the false impression that being a great lover is all she has to offer. She's already pretty sensitive and she struggles with abandonment and trust issues, so that makes it especially hard for her to hear anything that even remotely resembles criticism of her sexual prowess. I try and try to tell her that I *love* our sexual relationship and don't want her to change anything, even though I would like her to add a few elements, but all she hears at first is a complaint. That makes things difficult for both of us and it often takes her several days to recover her top-confidence and take back the reins again.
This alienation has left me on several occasions laying half-naked next to a snoring Mera, every nerve in my body alive and charged and waiting for the slightest stimulation. I had no idea how awful sexual frustration could feel! Now I have so much more compassion for my crazy-drunk-ex! I'm not excusing her drinking or accepting that my rejection drove her to drink, but I can now appreciate the agony of that kind of frustration. Looking back over all my previous relationships, I can finally see how I tortured so many lovers by losing my interest in sex. I feel like I should go back and apologize to all of them, and thank them for their patience.
What about you? Do you tend to want less sex than your partner, or are you the one lying there frustrated while your partner snores away. How have you managed it? And how have you talked about sexual issues that arise? I'll write more about sexual communication in the future, that's a big topic. For now, what about the balance of desire in a relationship? And thanks in advance for sharing, you guys rock.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
not much time
Things have been busy lately and I haven't had much time to sit and ruminate and churn out clever blog posts about sex. Fortunately I haven't been too busy to keep actually *having* sex, but just barely.
I got a really awesome promotion at work and this is my last week working my old shift in my old position. This old shift, by the way, ends at midnight, which sucks. Last night I worked for the last time with my coworker and good pal Michelle and we went out after work for one last hurrah at our favorite dive bar.
Normally Michelle and I go out once a week for our "usual" (beer and pin-ball at Billy Ray's), and Mera and I tend to take that night off from sleeping over. However, for some reason last night Mera agreed to come sleep at my house even though I wouldn't be getting home until after 2am. God bless her.
I did not expect her to be awake when I got home. The basic idea was just that we'd sleep in the same bed, wake up and have tea in the morning, and squeeze in what little quality time we could scrape together before she went to school and I went to a noon meeting.
Much to my surprise, however, when I opened my door at 2:15am, I found Mera awake in bed watching a dvd on her computer. I was so happy to see her little face. I threw my stuff down and knelt by the bed to hug her. We had a nice, sweet, homecoming moment, then she took my hand and guided it down under the sheets where it encountered the firm and alluring contours of the new glittery cock, which was tucked neatly under a pair of boxer briefs. She was awake and wearing the cock. I was amazed.
Long story short, we were up fucking until 4:30am and I spent the day dragging, but at least I had happy memories of last night to keep me going. Tonight, however, is a totally different story. I arrived at Mera's (from my very last midnight shift, woo-hoo!) and found her zonked out and snoring in her bed, fully dressed, on top of the covers with the menu page of a dvd playing it's continuous loop over and over. She woke up long enough to kiss me on the cheek and listen to a couple of stories about work, and now she's conked back out and here I sit, writing about her and waiting for the adrenaline of work to wear off so I can join her.
I got a really awesome promotion at work and this is my last week working my old shift in my old position. This old shift, by the way, ends at midnight, which sucks. Last night I worked for the last time with my coworker and good pal Michelle and we went out after work for one last hurrah at our favorite dive bar.
Normally Michelle and I go out once a week for our "usual" (beer and pin-ball at Billy Ray's), and Mera and I tend to take that night off from sleeping over. However, for some reason last night Mera agreed to come sleep at my house even though I wouldn't be getting home until after 2am. God bless her.
I did not expect her to be awake when I got home. The basic idea was just that we'd sleep in the same bed, wake up and have tea in the morning, and squeeze in what little quality time we could scrape together before she went to school and I went to a noon meeting.
Much to my surprise, however, when I opened my door at 2:15am, I found Mera awake in bed watching a dvd on her computer. I was so happy to see her little face. I threw my stuff down and knelt by the bed to hug her. We had a nice, sweet, homecoming moment, then she took my hand and guided it down under the sheets where it encountered the firm and alluring contours of the new glittery cock, which was tucked neatly under a pair of boxer briefs. She was awake and wearing the cock. I was amazed.
Long story short, we were up fucking until 4:30am and I spent the day dragging, but at least I had happy memories of last night to keep me going. Tonight, however, is a totally different story. I arrived at Mera's (from my very last midnight shift, woo-hoo!) and found her zonked out and snoring in her bed, fully dressed, on top of the covers with the menu page of a dvd playing it's continuous loop over and over. She woke up long enough to kiss me on the cheek and listen to a couple of stories about work, and now she's conked back out and here I sit, writing about her and waiting for the adrenaline of work to wear off so I can join her.
Sunday, March 9, 2008
gettin' brave...
In case you were wondering, here we are. I'm the one you can see. Mera's tastefully buried in my neck, where she belongs.
ouch
I like pain. Not all the time, and not all kinds of pain, but when I'm in the right mood, certain kinds of pain feel better than anything else on earth. I don't have the time or inclination to write a big S/M manifesto right now. Instead, I'll just focus on pain.
Of all the kinds of pain I have played with over the years, nipple pain is my favorite. I love to have my nipples mauled. The best is when my partner starts out soft and slow, then builds and builds and builds until she's squeezing and pinching them so hard they burn. The feeling moves from sensual to sexual to transcendently painful. I love it.
This weekend, Mera and I took it a little too far and now I'm sitting here with a bandaid on my left-nipple. Woops. I don't know why the right nipple got off so easy, but the left one is absolutely out of commission for awhile. We were both in a trance as it was happening. I was completely drunk off the sensation and Mera was in a sexual fugue state. I kept begging and egging her on and the next thing I knew she was saying "I taste blood."
Yeah.
So we stopped and now my left nipple looks a little like ground-round and hurts like it's been sunburnt. Hence the bandaid, to prevent chafing. And I'm also wearing a bra for a change. Anything to keep the little guy padded and safe from irritation until it's all healed up and ready to go again.
Years ago, I had my right nipple pierced. I had a theory that since I loved to have my nipples played with really hard, I'd REALLY love to have a ring through them to enhance the sensation. Boy was I wrong. Having my nippled pierced was the most intensely painful experience of my life. I enjoyed an endorphin high that lasted about three hours -- that alone was worth the $80 I paid for the jewelry and piercing.
Unfortunately, the ring only made my nipple ultra-sensitive and I was never able to enjoy rough nipple-play while the ring was in. Not to mention it never quite healed all the way. I kept it in for almost two years and it was constantly irritated and cycling through infections, even when it wasn't being handled at all. My body just wasn't into it.
I remember vividly the day I decided to take it out. I was working for Whole Foods in Durham and I was spending a lot of time in the dairy cooler because our Dairy Buyer'd quit and I was subbing. Spending a whole day in a giant refrigerator isn't good for nipples in general, but it's especially hard on an infected nipple with a piece of steel running through it. My nipple stayed hard as a rock all day in the cooler and the whole thing just throbbed.
Finally, early one cold morning as I dressed for work, I just did it. I didn't even think about it. I unscrewed one of the balls on the circular barbell in my nipple and gently slid the ring through and out of my body. As the steel left my skin, my whole body relaxed and I felt warm and comfortable again. It was like I'd been clenching and tensing every muscle in my body for two years and suddenly I was able to breathe free and rest. It was bliss. I have never looked back and would never, ever consider piercing my nipples again.
What about you guys? Pain? Nipple piercing? Clamps? Anything? I could write ten more posts about nipples and pain, but that's enough for today. I'm at the laundromat and it's time to fold my clothes and get out of here. But let me know if you've got your own pain stories. I'm all ears.
Of all the kinds of pain I have played with over the years, nipple pain is my favorite. I love to have my nipples mauled. The best is when my partner starts out soft and slow, then builds and builds and builds until she's squeezing and pinching them so hard they burn. The feeling moves from sensual to sexual to transcendently painful. I love it.
This weekend, Mera and I took it a little too far and now I'm sitting here with a bandaid on my left-nipple. Woops. I don't know why the right nipple got off so easy, but the left one is absolutely out of commission for awhile. We were both in a trance as it was happening. I was completely drunk off the sensation and Mera was in a sexual fugue state. I kept begging and egging her on and the next thing I knew she was saying "I taste blood."
Yeah.
So we stopped and now my left nipple looks a little like ground-round and hurts like it's been sunburnt. Hence the bandaid, to prevent chafing. And I'm also wearing a bra for a change. Anything to keep the little guy padded and safe from irritation until it's all healed up and ready to go again.
Years ago, I had my right nipple pierced. I had a theory that since I loved to have my nipples played with really hard, I'd REALLY love to have a ring through them to enhance the sensation. Boy was I wrong. Having my nippled pierced was the most intensely painful experience of my life. I enjoyed an endorphin high that lasted about three hours -- that alone was worth the $80 I paid for the jewelry and piercing.
Unfortunately, the ring only made my nipple ultra-sensitive and I was never able to enjoy rough nipple-play while the ring was in. Not to mention it never quite healed all the way. I kept it in for almost two years and it was constantly irritated and cycling through infections, even when it wasn't being handled at all. My body just wasn't into it.
I remember vividly the day I decided to take it out. I was working for Whole Foods in Durham and I was spending a lot of time in the dairy cooler because our Dairy Buyer'd quit and I was subbing. Spending a whole day in a giant refrigerator isn't good for nipples in general, but it's especially hard on an infected nipple with a piece of steel running through it. My nipple stayed hard as a rock all day in the cooler and the whole thing just throbbed.
Finally, early one cold morning as I dressed for work, I just did it. I didn't even think about it. I unscrewed one of the balls on the circular barbell in my nipple and gently slid the ring through and out of my body. As the steel left my skin, my whole body relaxed and I felt warm and comfortable again. It was like I'd been clenching and tensing every muscle in my body for two years and suddenly I was able to breathe free and rest. It was bliss. I have never looked back and would never, ever consider piercing my nipples again.
What about you guys? Pain? Nipple piercing? Clamps? Anything? I could write ten more posts about nipples and pain, but that's enough for today. I'm at the laundromat and it's time to fold my clothes and get out of here. But let me know if you've got your own pain stories. I'm all ears.
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