i went for a walk yesterday, and the day before, which was really nice. There’s a park not too far away – ok, i have to drive to it – but it’s really nice. And i played some music.
This: (Sacred Spirit Drums; David and Steve Gordon)
And this: (Squeeze Box; The Who)
And this: (Swing Low, Sweet Chariot; Etta James)
…to name a few. It was pretty lovely. And i thought. You know, about stuff.
i thought about how getting snatched up by a Dom – that moment when you know you’re “in trouble” – is such a turn on. The hand in your hair, or even the tone of voice, and suddenly i’m feeling all hot and wet. Just thinking about it makes me wet.
But we know – the scientists tell us – that we get wet when we’re exposed to sex, when there’s a chance that sex is in the mix, we get wet. Lubricated. It’s a safety precaution that our bodies take. So in case we get raped – we’re not going to get hurt as badly as we would if we were dry.
Like frigging chameleons change colors so they blend in. Not because they’re just that cool; it’s a safety measure.
So that whole, “Oh, look, you like this, i can tell cause you’re so wet!” That’s bullshit. Yep. Here’s one resource for that in Psychology Today. The article itself is stupid, but the research is interesting.
On the other hand, why don’t we get wet for boring, vanilla sex? i don’t know, but i don’t. Never have. i just don’t. Don’t know why, and don’t really care.*
But i love the thrill of submission. Some people like roller coasters. i like giving my power to some Dominant man. Slipping down into that submissive mind space… feeling my knees go weak, my body tingle… yes. Just yes.
Anyhow. i didn’t gain weight or lose weight this week. i was fairly productive. i walked a couple of times. Got my hair colored. Traveled a bit. Took my cat to the vet. Ate healthy and binged some.
i still exchange email with my old high-school friend – the one whose friend i dated for a while, way back when. We’ve been emailing each other every day – or close to it – since the end of February. It’s really casual. He – we’ll call him DK – still seems like the guy i knew when he was 17. Bad puns, and a sort of cynical pseudo-sophistication that was probably more impressive then than it is now. But kind of sweet at the same time.
i remember feeling drawn to him in some way, back in those days. He had what i thought of as a dark side and i’m always a bit pulled by that. His friend was more light and earnest boy scout, although the friend had some amazing sexual skill. He could finger fuck like nobody i’ve known before and hardly ever since. (I can say that here, right? My blog, sure i can.)
Anyhow. After the friend left town to go away to college, DK and i might have gone out a couple of times . It didn’t work for me, but i’m not sure why anymore. i remember some awkward groping in a dark car though and the realization that nope. not gonna work.
i still love it that every night, i get an email from him. Every night for almost 2 months now. i am a girl who loves that kind of consistency.
So today, i have this fantasy that DK suddenly emails me and asks if i still like being spanked. In the next 30 seconds, i imagine that i told him that all these years ago, and since then he has discovered that he’s really into dominance and …
That is SO not going to happen. That is the stuff that Harlequin BDSM romances are made of, and i suppose i could work it into a story someday. But not today. And not for real.
However. We are entering the Season of Good Times in my part of the world. Lots of festivals and festivities and friends visiting. My goal today? To enjoy it without beating myself up too much for the things i’m not doing. And to stay open to possibility.
*Actually, there’s another article that explores this concept in much more detail. You can read it here. i don’t have time to do it right now; that will have to be a post for a different day.