Day 5: What was your first kinky sexual experience?
Ah-hem. Well, as I mentioned in Day 2, spankings were my gateway drug into the world of BDSM. My first kinky experiences involved me seeking a disciplinarian to spank me. These were not sexual experiences (gee, anyone wonder where I got some of my ideas for Under His Roof?).
So, I suppose I won’t describe them here.
My first sexual kinky experience was with a gentleman I met on Collar Me.
Ah, memories. I just looked him up to see if he’s still around online. He isn’t.
He was about ten years older than me and far, far, far more sexually experienced. We’d been chatting for ages and he knew I’d be anxious when I arrived to his house.
No, we didn’t meet for coffee or anything safe like that. I went to a stranger’s home. It was dark out. In a town I wasn’t familiar with. And I was going there to get fucked.
NEVER DO ANYTHING LIKE THAT, READERS! NEVER! So fucking stupid! Me doing something stupid like this is actually how I ended up getting to know Nate–he came to my door and said, “Stop doing this stupid shit, girl!”
Anyway, it all worked out fine. Stranger-Man from Collar Me knew I was nervous. Really nervous. So he wrapped me up in a great big man hug for awhile and I breathed a huge sigh of relief for two reasons:
- I like man hugs.
- It felt comfortable hugging him. I know you can’t really tell if you’re going to click with a person by hugging him, but it’s a good sign if it feels right from the get-go.
I still remember what I was wearing that night. A long, blue linen skirt and a super cute black top. Amazingly, I’m wearing the same skirt right at this exact moment. How does that even happen? I just found it a few days ago, trapped in my closet under some stuff I never wear.
I digress. After the hug, he took me straight into his bedroom. A real charmer, that guy. And we sat on the bed for a few very short moments before we did a sort of cutesy flirty wrestling thing that ended up with me kneeling on the floor with my arms pinned behind my back.
He laughed, and said, “That’s where you belong.”
I kid you not, apart from those words, I do not remember a single other thing he said to me that night. I believe the next thing he did was pull me over his lap for a quick spank. My clothes came off fairly fast. My arms were bound with soft rope, shibari style.
And from there, ladies and gentlemen, all we have is the sex. It was fantastic. It was my first time getting fucked–like really fucked. He didn’t play nice and I didn’t want him to. There was scratching involved, and slapping. He had me on top of him, but I still wasn’t the one doing the fucking, he pounded me from below while holding my upper body tight–in yes, a man hug.
It was beautiful.
We met up a few times after that. Again, specifically for fucking. Safer though, since I’d established that he wasn’t out to murder me. But we never really talked that much. We never cuddled and I never spent the night. We were pretty much polar opposites regarding politics, career aspirations, views on marriage and children…
I hope he found what he wanted.
He certainly showed me what I wanted.