Fantasy

Oct 312015
 

The creature pinned my naked form to the bed, its soft clacking noises lulling me into a strange stupor. Although the huge insectile monster was terrifying to behold, it handled me with great care, gently prodding all of my most delicate places. Dimly I noted that I could feel a stinging sensation on the back of my neck, but a heavy warmth spread through my body, filling me with a euphoric longing. I gazed up at the moist chitin of the alien, writhing with pleasure as it passed some sharp appendage down the soft flesh of my cheek and neck. Its odd clacking song shifted to whirrs and hard clicks. Something clamped down hard on each of my nipples and I hovered on the edge of orgasm. Something firm and wet pressed against my inner thigh. I looked down to see a cock unlike any I had ever seen. Something round, gelatinous, and luminescent slid from the end as I watched. Following suggestion, I spread my legs wide, guiding the ovipositor deep inside. The alien eggs pumped into me one at a time, and each time I screamed in ecstasy with a new orgasm.

Fantasies are a strange thing. If people can imagine it, there’s a fetish for it. I had no idea that I would be into ovipositor sex, although maybe my reaction to the movie Aliens should have clued me in. Then I saw this sex toy, produced by Primal Hardware, all over the internet a few months ago. There was something about the videos that was so…compelling. Perhaps it’s just that I’ll try almost anything at least once, and this was something pretty far off my beaten path.

Actually, I often fantasize about sex with non-humans when I’m by myself. It makes gender issues easier. Hell, it just lets me have a sexual experience without all of the confusing human emotion parts. I like to get off thinking about having sex with machines for the most part, yet alien sex is so tantalizingly other. Just lay back, let them implant their eggs, and feel immense pleasure. Or whatever your imagination dreams up! (I also like mad science fantasies.)

We purchased the Krubera model from Primal Hardware in the “supernatural” color for $110. I’m pleased with the quality of the product; it seems to be made out of good silicone. It’s huge – about a foot long and about 2 inches in diameter. It came with instructions and a mold to make six gelatin eggs. Making the eggs was simple and really fun. It doesn’t take very long, but you do have to plan ahead because it takes some time for them to set up. It’s also important to note that the gelatin eggs will be pretty cold when you take them out of the refrigerator!

I was immediately disappointed with my ovipositor because it was incredibly difficult to get the eggs into it. The base is very tight, presumably so the eggs don’t drop back out, but it was impossible to get eggs in. Imagine two people covered in lube to the elbows trying to force a gelatin egg into a too tight opening and I’m sure you can guess how much fun we had. The eggs were starting to break into gelatinous chunks by the time we got the thing loaded up. We figure it holds about three eggs before they just start popping out the other end.

It’s creepy (in a sexy way) to watch the eggs distend the ovipositor, oozing and writhing their way toward the opening. At a certain point, the eggs just pop out the opening, catapulting themselves forward. It’s fantastic.

At first I was thinking that this would be a terrible anal toy because you never, never, put something in the ass without a flared base or some way or retrieving it. But then I thought, it’s just gelatin. It really is just gelatin, not even sugar or anything. It would simply break down by itself. Contemplatively, I tried the weird ovipositor in my dildo harnesses and it strained the capacity, but still fit.

I got super excited about an ovipositor as an anal toy! But you know what? There is no way I am going to get this novelty toy in Harold’s ass without a lot of working up to it. The whole thing is big. We tried. It’s not happening. For one thing, the ovipositor is kind of floppy until an egg is in it. Those eggs are the same size as chicken eggs! And if you get an egg near the opening at the end, the orb launches. I’m sure some of you have experienced similar circumstances, but this was a new problem for me. It is actually somewhat disastrous to pop off when you are trying to insert the tip into someone’s bum.

Luckily, it worked it bit better in my cunt. Floppy was still a bit of an issue, as this is not a dildo to get fucked hard with. I also took exception to how cold everything was, but my imagination supplied me with the chill appendage of the alien queen seeking my hot core to activate her invading spore. A sticky slurp preceded the first egg, its passage causing every muscle in my cunt to contract repeatedly.

Bottom line: Whatever the fantasy, however messy, I liked the outcome. Where would your ovipositor take you?

Grade: B

Dec 232014
 

For the seventh night of Chanukah I got to try suspension bondage for the first time! I guess DW had a personal challenge to complete a different suspension for each night of Chanukah. I love bondage, but this was my first try at suspension. Guess what, it’s fabulous!

Bondage makes me giddy. I grin a lot and get goofy. Being tied up tends to relax me. I was a little nervous about being suspended, but DW is so competent and solid. I knew I was in good hands. I liked the feeling of flying, and of having different parts of my body supported. There was a bit of a feeling of being on display or made pretty that was totally hot. Also, there’s just something about being restrained that makes me feel safe and cared for.

I was surprised to find that suspension bondage brought up some of my body issues. Like, that deep down I’ve always thought that I was way to heavy to be suspend. In fact, when I look at the pictures, the first thing I think is that I look fat, not how cool the rope work is. I am usually way more comfortable in my body than that! I was also interested to discover that I am fairly motion sensitive. Thankfully, DW didn’t want me to hurl on his pretty white carpet, so he didn’t spin me round.

Suspension bondage is really freeing. I can see it being a part of many of my fantasies – being on display, having many people’s hands on me while being helpless to move. Even the idea of being fucked while suspended because of the motion and different pressure points. I’m sure it would have it’s challenges, but the idea turns me on!

Suspension bondage

Bondage reflection

In his hands

Yay! Suspended!

 

Thank you DW for an awesome experience! Next time I’ll make sure to allow more time to explore the possibilities…

Oct 192014
 

Kyle,

In my fantasy you show up at my hotel room, sweeping me off my feet with your suave and dapper style, but it’s Daddy’s hand on my backside that makes me melt. I can’t stop kissing you. I want you in my mouth. Oh Kyle, we only have a few hours. Whatever will we do?

At the hotel door

First kiss

Taste you
Under your boot
Spank me Daddy
Tongues and teeth
Nipples
Grind like this
Take me now
On my knees for you
In your mouth
Your chest

Sweet in your arms

 

(Special thanks to Kyle from Butchtastic for helping me to shoot this fantasy sequence! Stay tuned to see what happens when a couple of gender queered sex-positive bloggers get wild. There’s lots of kissing, talking, giggling, and strap-on wars…)

Sinful Sunday

Sep 252014
 

Sweet and RoughBook: Sweet & Rough:Sixteen Stories of Queer Smut
Editor: Sinclair Sexsmith
Publisher: Maverick Press
$7.99 digital book; epub, pdf, mobi (available now!)
$24.95 hardcover book (Nov 2014)

Sinclair Sexsmith is one of my favorite erotic writers, whose stories combine all of the things that are important to me: power and gender dynamics, intimacy, consent, kink, multidimensional characters, and believable plots. If anything, Sweet & Rough: Sixteen Stories of Queer Smut takes erotica to a new level for me, because it’s easier for me to identify with than most smut that I read.

As much as I enjoyed reading the book, it was even more of a pleasure to get to ask Mr. Sexsmith a few questions about the book…

All of your stories are written in first person and you are almost always packing. How important is having a cock to your masculinity?

Sinclair Sexsmith“It’s not that having a cock is important to my masculinity so much as it is important to my sexuality and sexual expression. For whatever reason, I’m very cock-centric, and much of my erotic play centers around penetration and reception. You might even say I have a penetration or a cock fetish. Interesting, coming from a dyke, huh? It’s a curious contradiction, to me, and one that has taken me a lot of deconstructing and reconstructing to make sense of.

Of course, masculinity is also important to my sexuality and sexual expression, so it isn’t that the masculinity doesn’t go hand-in-hand. But my cock isn’t so much about my masculine presentation as it is about playing with a lover’s body in ways that incorporate power, penetration, and energy. Since those are some of my most significant fetishes and kinks, and since strap-on cocks are a really excellent tool to play with all three of those, I tend to have an incredibly cock-centric sex life. Probably 9 times out of 10 that I have sex, I’m strapped on.”

I noticed that in pretty much all of these stories you integrate reading non-verbal cues as part of receiving consent. As a writer, how difficult is it to balance fantasy and enthusiastic consent?

“It’s so complicated! I am often in conflict with my role as a sexuality and BDSM educator and my role as someone who crafts dirty fantasy stories with the purpose of turning someone on and exploring erotic realms. Non-verbal cues are incredibly hard to teach about and talk about, because they are so easily misinterpreted. But what I love about writing is that you can show a character’s inner story and inner world really clearly, so you can show the conflict they feel about whether or not they got consent, or the very clear consent they are thinking even if their body language is the only cue.

The issue of consent and whether consent and ethics are clearly depicted in erotica is something I think about a lot, and try to play with consciously in my work. As I’ve been evolving as a writer and creator, I don’t think it’s as black and white as I previously thought it was, and I’m interested in exploring more of the nuance. (I refuse to add anything about “shades of grey.”)”

I can see many aspects of these stories that reflect what I know of you as a sexual person: gender play, power dynamics, sacred intimacy, and kink. What does it mean to you to write queer smut?

“Yes, absolutely—this book is really revealing, the closest thing to a diary that I’ve released. It’s been interesting how much vulnerability has come up, now that it is making the rounds and people are talking about the content! What does it mean to write queer smut … hmmm. I started because I have always been a writer, and because I was obsessing over reading “lesbian erotica” but most of it didn’t have the bite, the edge, that I was seeking. And, I started because I wanted to write as a way to explore my own fantasies and my own inner erotic world, in order to write myself into a better sex life. I gotta say: That worked. Incredibly well. Articulating my own fantasies and erotics made me more bold, more daring, and more able to go after what I wanted. So for me, writing queer smut means staying in touch with my erotic self, cultivating my own erotic desires, and prioritizing them in a variety of ways. When my erotic self dries up, there are so many consequences, and when I am deeply in touch, I am more creative and capable, and better able to act from places of love, strength, abundance, and vulnerability, rather than fear or scarcity. Writing erotica has been such an important way for me to come into my own power, kink, sexuality, desires, and deeper fuller self.”

Sinclair is right, this book is very intimate and revealing. This collection of stories is certainly extremely hot, but what I like best is the raw honesty at the heart of each story. It was easy for me to imagine myself in each character, to use each story as a starting point for my own fantasies. Perhaps the biggest compliment I can give this book is that, after reading, I am imagining where I would let Mr. Sexsmith take me!

Aug 252014
 

Love the tuxedoWhen I look in the mirror I am usually pretty happy with what I see. I like my body, my hair, my face – but sometimes I get frustrated when what I see doesn’t fit with how I feel inside. I like being female, but there are times when I feel very male. I struggle with how to present myself as a male. How do I express who I am as a man?

I recently fulfilled a long time fantasy to dress as the man I see myself as and it was really pretty much a perfect evening. I had so much fun! My friends got married and held a masquerade ball. (Congrats guys!) The invitations said, “dress to impress” and I immediately thought about wearing a tuxedo. I’ve always wanted to wear a tux. It seems the epitome of men’s fashion, suave and debonair. What could be sexier?

I fetishize tuxedos to such an extent that just picking up the tux gave me a high like participating in a BDSM scene for a couple of hours. I went to the Tuxedo Club in Kirkland and they were amazing. I had a lot of anxiety going in because I worried that it wouldn’t be right. I was there for over an hour while they explained each piece. I love the details – cufflinks, spats, pocket watches and such. They worked with me to make sure that I had exactly what I wanted in a tuxedo. I left feeling exhilarated.

DW and EvoeI wanted the perfect date for this wedding reception, so I invited DW. I got dressed at his house and he was full of useful information, like tips on how to better use a compression vest to bind my breasts. (“Pull together and you’ve got cleavage, pull up and out toward the armpits and you’ve got pecs.”) I am so grateful to DW for all of his graceful instruction and sense of humor. He also looks damn hot in a tux.

We had fun at the party. I saw people I hadn’t seen in years, and a few of them didn’t recognize me! I felt amazing: strong, sexy, grounded. DW and I got increasingly friskier, groping each other surreptitiously while everyone focused on the bride and groom cutting the cake. It felt good when his fingers brushed against my clit, but I kept wishing that I had decided to pack so he could feel my cock.

DW and Evoe kissingWe left while the night was still young. We stopped at a grocery store because DW insisted on getting me food I could eat, something that earns him a hundred gold stars in my book. Walking through the store in a tux made the experience real. I was not just going to a costume party, I was in public. It was awesome. I want to own a tux so I can put it on to run to the grocery store. (After 5:00 p.m. of course, as DW pointed out.)

Once we had taken off the tuxedos and I had eaten, we retired to the bedroom. DW has a perfect way about him. I feel comfortable and I trust him, which makes it possible (just barely) for me to submit to him. He brings me right up to the point where I would have to stop. I find myself sitting in uncomfortable places that I would not normally tolerate with anyone else. And then I feel amazing afterward. This man has incredible skill.

Pre masquerade He called me “boy” the entire time. I dropped to my knees in front of him. He urged me to take his cock deeper and deeper into my throat, slapping my face when I didn’t try hard enough. I gagged and tears ran down my face, but I eventually found my rhythm.

He wrapped his fingers in my hair and dragged me to the bed. He bent me over the edge and bit my back while I squirmed in protest. He was gone briefly then came back with what I think was a belt. He used it to encourage me to use proper responses to his attentions. It sounded like this: “SMACK. (breath, breath, moan…) Yes Daddy! SMACK. (sucked in breath, exhale) Yes Daddy!” Between the belt and his hand I started to get the hang of it.

Our play got gentler after that. I did more cock sucking. We snuggled. I orgasmed. He is a fabulous kisser. He wove incredible fantasies for me. He rolled me over and fucked me hard, like I had been wanting in a desperate kind of way. I also wanted him to come all over me, so he straddled my hips. We took turns with lube and his cock. He talked dirty to me (cuz I’m a dirty boy). I played with his nipples and really felt like a boy. I could feel my cock and I wanted him to sit on it. I wanted to fuck him with my cock while he spilled on my chest. It was toe-curling, back-arching, super-hot fucking.

Morning strollI had so much fun. I’m still on that high a couple of days later. It’s interesting to me that none of the (sometimes crippling) anxiety I feel in social situations plagued me at the reception. Perhaps it is the power of the tuxedo. Maybe I feel more confident as a boy. Could be that DW puts me at ease. Whatever it is, I’ll take it.

I’ve felt great all weekend. I put on the tux again to take some photos with Harold, this time with me on top. Those images turn me on so much. Like crazy horny. I’ve never had that experience with photos of myself before! I don’t even know what to make of it. Renting a tux has been more than a costume for a party, more than cross-dressing, and more than a fetish. It’s been a dream come true.

Aug 152014
 

Hotel sexMy head is still swirling with images from last weekend – memories of taking the train to Portland, experiencing my first leather event, and swanky hotel threesome sex all invade my mind. It was a good time. I felt like a teenager running away from home, full of excitement tinged with a trace of fear. I felt like I was getting away with something wicked and I relished every moment on my own. I made it all count.

Harold dropped me off at the train station, where Hobbit and her Princess Girlfriend found me. On the way down to Portland they explained the basics of leather culture and titles. They were both very gracious in answering all my questions. Although I’ve spent most of my life on the edges of the LGBT  and BDSM communities, I have never directly attended a leather event. (I love new experiences!) In Portland, we met up with Woody, DW, and Shawna.

Shawna's formal look

Photo courtesy of Leland Carina

My Sweet Girl, Shawna, was running for Ms. Oregon State Leather. I wanted to be there to see her in her element. And I was there, with the taste of whisky in my mouth, the smell and creak of leather around me, music blasting, and the trace of a lover’s fingers along the back of my neck. I felt alive in a way I rarely experience, but value more than anything. I got to see Shawna and the other competitors explain how they would serve the community. I watched the outrageous manifestations of their fantasies come to life onstage. I witnessed the contestants poise when answering pop questions. I learned a lot about leather culture observing their numerous outfit changes. Underneath everything was a sense of humor and unapologetic sexuality.

Everyone I encountered was warm, respectful, and self-contained. It’s the first time I have ever been in a bar or club and not had someone come on to me in a sticky or obnoxious way. People did talk to me. I had fascinating conversations with interesting people. But I never even came close to having to tell someone to fuck off. It’s nice to be fully and comfortably in my sexual self and not have to defend my boundaries because someone else thinks that all my shiny is for them. I think these leather folks are onto something.

Shawna's victory pose

Photo courtesy of Leland Carina

Mostly, I was happy to see Shawna win the title. My Sweet Girl is now Ms. Oregon State Leather 2014! I’m so proud of all that she’s accomplished and I know that she’s going to spend the next year doing great things for the leather community. I am endlessly amazed by her humility and grace, as well as the strength of her convictions and iron will. I love her.

I was proud of myself because after the contest was over, I did exactly what I wanted to do. I did not go to the after party. I did not go out to eat with friends. I went back to my lovely hotel and engaged in self-care. I ate food that I brought with me, that would not make me sick. I put ice on my broken toes. I read my book.

While I enjoyed alone time, I was excited when DW texted to say that he was in the lobby with Shawna. I took the elevator down to get them. In a surreal moment, we went back up with a couple that had just gotten married. They asked about Shawna’s Ms. Oregon State Leather sash!

When I think about you...It’s such a joy to sit and talk to friends. Even better when we snuggle up in bed together. I think DW delights in helping people actualize their desires because soon hands were roaming and Shawna started moaning. DW had her ask me for fisting (which I had mentioned being into earlier). We had her spread across the bed between us – DW’s cock in her throat and my whole hand inside her beautiful cunt. Fisting is such a deeply spiritual experience for me, although I normally have more of an opportunity to check in with the person I am inside. Her vaginal contractions were so strong, she would force my hand out over and over. It was the most amazing thing.

When Shawna felt she’d had enough, she switched to giving DW head from on top. I played with his nipples and sat on his face until I came. Shortly after, DW orgasmed.

It was four in the morning. I usually go to bed no later than 10:00, but some things are well worth staying up for. Shawna and DW left to return to their hotel room, but Shawna confessed that this was her first threesome. I feel honored that she chose to spend the evening with me. I hope I did right by her.

Satisfied and dreamyI tumbled into a contented, dreamy sleep, only to awaken at 8:00 a.m. That’s sleeping in for me! I stumbled around figuring out coffee and rejecting room service. Woody texted me from the Bolt Bus on his way back to Seattle. I got him to sext me while I used my vibrator to come over and over. I wonder what the person next to him thought.

My own trip home was good. I thought lots of deep thoughts. I felt both satiated and hungry for more. I really love the train. It’s so relaxing to stare out the window and think in peace. My fantasy life is rich, but occasionally, real life eclipses my imagination.

Mar 092014
 

FlirtIt’s too bad that I don’t have a fetish for dirty linens because that’s what we faced when we arrived at our rental cabin – nothing had been cleaned. Dirty towels sat piled at the foot of the bed, which was rumpled and obviously not fresh. The thermostat said it was 50 degrees. It was late at night and Harold and I had driven for miles to get there. Not to be discouraged, we tossed everything into the wash, turned on the heat, and snuggled up on the couch.

I had gloried in fantasies of what we would do when we arrived, what manner of depravity I would inflict on Harold. I had lovingly packed our toy bag with needle-play paraphernalia and an assortment of rope. Harold’s breath caught in his throat when I told him of my plans to take him – I would tie him up, blindfold him, put in earbuds with a special playlist, overload his senses, bring him to the edge of orgasm over and over, put needles in sensitive places, come on his face while he was helpless…

But it wasn’t to be. At least not that night. It’s funny how things work. I have such an active fantasy life. Being able to imagine pleasure is awesome, as long as I don’t get too hung up on things happening exactly as envisioned. I’ve learned to trust my instincts. Going with the flow of erotic energy is always very rewarding.

When we woke up the next morning, the attraction between us was practically magnetic. We don’t wake up in bed together very often so it felt kind of amazing, maybe like waking up next to your favorite movie star crush. We smiled and gazed at one another in adoration. The room was still cool, but we explored each other’s bodies under the safety of three comforters. He tied me to the bed.

By the windowI’m not sure how we manage to know each other so well and still surprise each other with the things we do in bed. Harold can bring me to orgasm in minutes. He knows exactly how much pressure to apply and where. He knows when to tweak a nipple hard or how to make me beg for the vibrator. This time, I asked him to talk dirty to me (not a usual request) and he knew exactly what I wanted to hear, how to make me come hard around his fingers with his words and conjured images. I am lucky to have this experienced lover who is happy to excite me with new experiences.

Of course, it goes both ways. I meant to draw out the erotic sensations of sexual bonding as much as possible, but sometimes fucking just feels too good. I was just going to tease a little with penetration. We moved between positions and I stayed in control, not letting either of us climax, until he got behind me. I love being fucked doggy-style. This time I even had the vibrator on my clitoris. I knew I was fast approaching orgasm and I was beyond caring. Harold told me he was about to come, but by the time I was able to process that information, I was spasming around his cock and then he lost control.

It’s difficult to feel disappointed in an orgasm like that. I am always amazed at how powerful it is to peak together. I expressed some regret over not being able to torment him more and he said, “You could milk me into my mouth.” Uhhh…what? He explained that I could massage what was left of his ejaculate out of his prostate and into his open mouth. Like he would rest on his shoulders with his knees near his ears. And catch his own jism.

!!!!!!!!!

I love my life. We waited a bit. We ate breakfast. I painted his nails purple. We took a shower together. Always, we talk and talk. He gave himself an enema. I tied off his balls and we played around with some ball torment.

ReflectionWhen it felt right, I told him to get his ass in the air. It took a bit of positioning, with a pillow behind his shoulders, but Harold is flexible enough to position his cock over his face. (Have I mentioned how hot that is?) That left his asshole vulnerable to my lubed finger.

I enjoy prostate stimulation very much. Harold obviously gets pleasure out of what I do – just a firm stroke with a slightly curled finger. I have milked the semen out of him before. It makes me feel powerful to take his seed without granting an orgasm, but one of my favorite things is bring him to orgasm while doing prostate massage. What we did yesterday was like the best kind of sexual circus acts.

As I stroked Harold’s prostate, big fat drops of semen fell and he caught them in his mouth! Best trick ever. I wondered if he would be grossed out or humiliated, but he wasn’t. He sometimes longs for a boyfriend to go down on. If it were possible for me to love him more, I would!

Milking into his mouthWe managed to fill the weekend with more sex and good times. I may have come enough in the past couple of days to make up for how sparse things have been in the past few weeks, but as much as my pleasure is a priority for me, Harold’s trick of coming into his own mouth totally wins as my favorite moment of the weekend. Things may not have turned out the way I hoped they would – I think the mischief we came up with was better!

Dec 232013
 

Evoë on datingI never thought I’d see the day, but I actually met a man I’m interested in dating on OKCupid. Unfortunately, I don’t know how to date. I’ve never really done it before — what I’m used to is letting friendships evolve over time into sexual and/or romantic relationships. As a result, I’m finding my current interest rather excruciating. Getting to know each other is fascinating, and playing with our mutual attraction is exciting, but we haven’t earned each other’s trust yet. I’m tearing myself up inside over this guy with whom I’ve spent exactly 90 minutes in person.

I’m really taken with him – he’s intelligent, very physically fit, good looking with a gorgeous smile, spiritual without being religious, a good communicator, and deeply respectful. I was impressed when I asked him for more photos and he didn’t send me a cock shot. Perhaps my favorite thing is that he’s very sexual without seeming desperate or sticky. He wants a chance to explore his sexuality and this appeals to me on many levels. I get so much pleasure out of helping people open up and showing them new things.

But not having established trust is getting to me. I don’t know how to find a good balance. My desire wants to just go for it, make a sexual connection, and use it to build trust later. The rest of me is freaking out a bit. I’ve been through date rape, and I certainly don’t want to put myself in that position again.

I sense that he’s not being totally forthcoming with me. I can’t find him in a Google search, which may mean that he’s being private online or it may mean that he isn’t who he says he is. He told me that he wouldn’t want me to blog about him because he likes his secrecy. I’m violating that request right now because it’s essential to me to be able to talk about my feelings and my process. I’m thinking about being alone with him, vulnerable and intimate, without really knowing who he is. How do I know he can be held accountable? What is a reasonable amount of faith before you have a solid foundation of trust?

He tells me he’s married, been married for over 20 years. They’ve just recently opened their marriage. This could be a very good thing for me, since I am so busy with my family that I have very little time and energy to give to another relationship. But here is my warning bell: he and his wife evidently have a don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy. He doesn’t want to meet my other partners and he won’t be telling his wife about us. He seemed confused by me trying to explain that I tell my husbands everything. Actually, I am unlikely to share his private confessions, but I would certainly be telling them about my emotional experience and the overall shape of the relationship. I don’t want to have to keep one part of my life separate from the others, and I doubt I’m even capable of it. I am profoundly suspicious of anything that must be kept secret. How, for example, do I know that I’m not causing harm to his wife?

There is also the body hair issue. After it became clear that we are attracted to each other, he asked me if I shave below the neck. While I’ve shaved in the past (body, head, everything at one time or another), I am currently really enjoying my body in a natural state. I love my hairy armpits. I trim my pubic hair, but I won’t be getting a Brazilian any time soon. I think I look ridiculous with a bald pussy and I hate going down on someone all stubbly. I don’t find shaved genitals attractive in general, but I do respect people’s right to do things they like with their body.

For him, however, this seems to be a deal breaker – he says he can’t get turned on if his partner has body hair below the neck. In his favor, he has wanted to know why it seems important to me not to shave. He is respectfully waiting to see what I want to do. Do I want to modify my body to make him happy? Don’t I want him to like me the way I am?

I suspect he may want clandestine sex. An affair. I understand the allure of something forbidden, a kind of exciting shame-fueled sexual adventure. I understand the attraction to the fetish-like taboo of secretive sex, but this is so not me. He says that he’s interested in my passion for normalizing sex, so I’m curious to see if he’s willing to step out of his comfort zones to meet me. But how far should I go to meet him? Where is the right balance between pleasing a prospective lover and holding your own boundaries?

I’ve been enjoying our interactions – mostly texting or sexting. I’m having fun! Sadly, this week is super busy. I had to cancel the second meeting we had scheduled because I am so overwhelmed with holidays, work, and child wrangling. Since I broke that appointment, I haven’t heard from him. Maybe he’s giving me space in this crazy chaotic time. Maybe he’s given up on me. Maybe, like me, he’s trying to figure out how to trust.

I’m not sure how to do this dating thing. I’ve had sex with strangers in the heat of the moment, but never this negotiation of preferences and boundaries, dreaming of steamy relationship potential while trying to navigate all the risk factors. Figuring out public transportation in a foreign country has caused me less stress than this. And yet… I want him. I want him to meet my challenge.