Mar 112017
 

Today I am recovering from one of the more confusing sexual encounters I’ve had… pretty much ever.

Before I get into it, I do want to spell out that I am very much into consensual sexual acts of all sorts. Key word is consensual. And most risqué acts are discussed ahead of time to make sure both parties are into it.

I’m also one to run like a bat out of hell if it’s not consensual, and I do not take lightly any kind of ignoring of the word “No” or forcing oneself on another (unwanted).

This makes last night even more confusing.

I met this guy at the bar. He seemed nice and so I went home with him, and his best friend who had her boytoy in tow.

On our way out the door, I stopped at the restroom. When I rejoined him outside, he had just started eating a cup full of peanuts and showed them to be bragging about his nuts. It was cute how he was doing it, but I’m allergic (like ER allergic). When I said I was allergic, he swung the cup behind his back, flinging peanuts far away from us behind him.

“Why are you talking about peanuts? You’re silly.”  and then you could see the thought cross his face…

“This means no kissing right. I need to wash out my mouth.”  For about an hour until he’d brushed his teeth and washed his mouth, you’d see his thought of kissing me run through his mind, and he would quickly move onto something else instead.

As soon as he got in my car (I was driving), he was all hands and it was heavily distracting me from driving. So I asked him to stop. He said no.

Since this is one of those “What you can’t be serious?” things, I wrote it off as him being funny.

Once we got to his place, he served drinks and we (just him and I) went into his bedroom for privacy. He started taking off his clothes so I followed suit.  He walked over to where I was and began kissing my neck (he hadn’t brushed his teeth yet) and pushed me down on the bed. I still had my pants on, and he was kissing down my stomach and biting at my crotch.

So I started to stand up and say that I was going to take off my pants. He put his hand around my throat, gripped me solidly, and pushed me back onto the bed. I was about to complain, and he let my neck go.

So I tried to rise again. Again, with quick reflexes, he put his hand on my neck and gripped tighter this time, pushed me back onto the bed. I stayed that way this time until he moved away from me.

He pulled down the covers slightly so I took the hint that I was to get into bed. I removed my bra and he began kissing my breasts and then biting my nipples.. and then biting them harder. He did not stop until I yelled “ow” very loudly, and even then he took his time letting go.

It became quite clear that while I didn’t think he was actually going to hurt me (well not really, plus he was a small enough guy that I could overpower him if I wanted) the activities we’d be doing would be entirely his decision.  I debated on whether I was fine with it.

He slapped my breasts. It was startling and I didn’t like it but it was over as fast as it began, and he’d distract me with something else or refuse to let me talk.

“I’ll be right back. By the time I get back, you’d better be naked.”

I joked. “Of course,” because I was already removing the rest of my clothes.

“I mean it. Not a stitch of clothing.” Then he walked out of the room. He didn’t come back for a while. I waited obediently naked under the covers.

When he did come back, he threw off my covers and inspected me quickly before starting in on my nipples again, and then kissing me.. and then starting to eat me.

There was no checking in with me on whether or not it was ok, he just did what he wanted. And other than the very sore nipples, I wasn’t really complaining. I was torn between shock and heavily turned on, so much so that I barely thought about my safety or what he’d want to do next.

He put on a condom and began fucking me at that point and his hands roughly treating my breasts with the random slap.  Again, when I began to complain about it, he’d not let me talk.

A couple more slaps later, I finally had had it and told him no more slapping. I wasn’t being silenced.

“If you want to slap something, you can slap my ass.”

He turned me over and spanked my ass several times.

Then he asked me to ride him. I tried, but he’d gone soft. Too much drink I suspect because he passed out cold shortly after and snored like a freight train.

Had we discussed my preferences ahead of time, I would not be confused at all about this encounter.

It was literally the hottest one night stand I’ve ever had, and that’s even counting him passing out before completing sex.

However, we didn’t have safe words or any discussion of anything. So my brain is telling me I was assaulted, while my vag is trying to convince me to see him again.

Nov 262011
 

Mr. Non-Tech told me in no uncertain terms that we were “just friends”.  I didn’t handle it well, but at least I had the smarts to hide it a little. He has no idea the extent of how I feel.

 

While in many ways it’s great to finally have that sorted out, I still didn’t quite fully realize just how much I felt and how deep I was into it.

 

Most times when a guy I like says that we’re just friends, I get a little pissed off.. I mean who wouldn’t want me?.. But I also get over it rather quickly. It’s not usually a big deal. He doesn’t want me, who cares.. Next!

 

Unfortunately there is a type of men like Mr. Non-Tech which get under my skin and drive me quite literally into CrazyTown.

 

These men are dangerous, but generally only to me. They’re also very sweet, kind, loving men with very strong character/personalities and have a confidence about them. They’re leaders.

 

They also like to listen.

 

The combination of which seems to turn me into sycophant. Most of these are what I call “natural dominant” males, the rest are usually sociopaths (though anymore I can usually detect the sociopaths coming – one or two ruin the party for all the rest. Sorry.)

 

A week ago was when I first started to see the major warning signs. I wanted to be with him 24/7. I’d be pissed as all shit, then he’d call and the mere sound of his voice and I turn into “OMG, I’m just glad you’re talking to me.” I’d be jumpy and uneasy when it’d been too long since we’d last talked or if he didn’t reply to a message in a decent amount of time.

 

We’d talked every night for hours before I went to sleep for over a week. I was very well attuned to him by then.  So attuned that (this was a big warning sign that I was in trouble) when he didn’t call – I wasn’t worried for his safety or anything – I couldn’t get to sleep at all. The next night, I wasn’t tired at all but the minute he called I relaxed and  it was like my entire body said “Ok all is well with the world, you can go to sleep now.”

 

I sound nut-balls don’t I?

 

That feeling of addiction to another person is an amazing feeling. It burns so hot. It’s happy. Joyful, Full of hope. Every day is a rainbow. (It also comes with massive downward spirals as well.)

 

However, every one of these types of relationships I’ve been in has ended horrendously for me.  As good as the good times are, the bad times are equally as evil.

 

One of them.. We’d been together for just over 6 months when he called it off.  I am not exaggerating to say I went nut-balls for a while.  It took me 3 months before I stopped crying, and longer before I could even think about another relationship.  (Compared to my other relationships which I’m usually good to go after a few hours of crying, and possibly a month of regrouping.)

 

At the moment, I’m trying my best not to think about the feeling that I have a massive hole in my chest.  I feel like I’ll never love again, even though I know it isn’t true. I’ve cried like a baby followed by a couple hours of sleep, then waking, crying, and falling back to sleep.

 

NUT-BALLS! I tell you.

 

It’d be nice actually if I found a guy who had this effect on me who actually was into me long-term.. though I’m relatively sure if we spent years together and he suddenly died that my body would give out on me shortly after. Co-dependency I believe is the word.

 

Actually, no.. that’s probably not a good idea either.

 

This weekend is detox from Mr. Non-tech. I’m doing my best NOT to pick up the phone and call him.  Cuz I want to.. I really want to..

 

I swear this is crazy shit.  Totally crazy shit. Remember my last post about the type of guys that I submit to? I wasn’t really exaggerating. Until I come out the otherside of this Mr. Non-tech detox, he could probably get me to do just about anything for him. (well within reason, a few more months of this addiction to him, and I’d probably really do anything).

 

Ok, next time I start to describe someone I met as “crack” “cocaine” or “addictive”.. just tell me to start f’n running right there? Schedule the intervention.  I’m going to need it.