Sexuality Happens

I am OCD about cleaning out my email inboxes.  Well, not cleaning out, but I hate having new, unopened email, and I get a rush of joy of unstarring an email that has been starred (ie, come back to take care of later).  I was going through my starred emails, and came across this one.  When F and I were still in the first few months, I had asked her if she’d be willing to write a guest post for this blog, about what it was like to sleep/play/sex with me.  She sent me this bit, telling me she’d finish it later. She never did, but because she took the time to write it (and because I want to unstar an email), I’m posting this.  She wrote it about our first time playing together…I only wish that she had finished it.

-Essin’ Em

It was the first time that we had spent time in a quiet room together outside of my office. I was in the process of unwinding from a day of giving bodywork and motivation to my small world of clients… She was my last “appointment” of the day and as a completely casual situation we were spending time in my lame excuse for a home… basically a house that i stored my stuff in and stayed at when i couldn’t find any other excuse to stay somewhere else. The lack of sanctuary resulted in a slight disassociated sense of numbness, a form of survival.

She had had a migraine and was seeing me for bodywork to see if there was a way to relieve her of some of it. We spent what seemed like hours talking in my basement… at some point she picked up my hunting knife off the coffee table (it was a little dull) and started running it up and down her arm… this sent a little sense of excitement through me and out of instinct I sat down next to her and laid out my arm. I never had a partner that really gave me a sense of permission to explore different things that may have turned me on and immediately she offered not only reassurance but almost a readiness to help me discover a new world of sensations… she instructed me to take off my shirt.

It felt like time slowed as i pulled up the back of my shirt and she unhooked my bra. Everything was heightened. The anticipation filled the air and i could practically feel it… when all of a sudden i felt the sharp tip stick into my skin… slowly she ran the blade down the side of my spine. It felt like my muscles became puppets to my own skin, dancing and quivering, sending shivers through my body as she gently carved designs over my entire back. I had never been so wet before. Completely distracting when you’re trying to find a place of zen before coming into a space for the therapeutic touch we had scheduled… 

The night of our play date, I was sooo nervous. I wanted to shave everything out of this weird nervous obsessive compulsive tic I have… Obsessed about being clean in order to feel more comfortable about my own insecurities (i know, i’m kind of weird). I arrived to her apartment with my heart in my throat. Coming up the elevator was like increasing the volume of the butterflies swarming my stomach and chest. This was a night where I had permission to be, and do without shame… something so foreign but so familiar. I came inside and she offered to make me tea…

I went outside to smoke, again out of nervous anxiety… what if I suck, what if I don’t know what to do, what if I don’t know what I want, what if she gets impatient and irritated… after i found a proper disposal for my cigarette butt I went inside and brushed my teeth and washed my hands (back to the weird coping mechanism)… and then we sat down and talked. She opened the conversation with what would I like to do. I stumbled through bondage, spanking, choking, MORE KNIFE PLAY!! She brought up safe words and hard limits… yellow, red (green for go :))

“Can I kiss you,”

“Yes.”

“Can I fuck you,”

“Yes.”

I was so turned on by the small piece of knife play before that probably could have come either way.  I jumped in the shower to get ready.