See that sweet spot right there in the middle? I never used to believe it existed. It’s such a small, low-probability intersection, considering my limited capacity to differentiate between romantic love and naive infatuation. I stopped believing in ‘happy ever after’ a long time ago. I don’t miss my illusions. They got me into all sorts of trouble.
Sex on its own – vanilla sex without kink and without love – that’s gets the biggest ‘meh’ I can muster. I find it disappointing, unsatisfying, mechanical. Lord knows I did enough of it during the chaos of my misspent youth – desperately searching for all sorts of things like ‘dream come true’ and ‘self-awareness’ and ‘happiness’. I wish someone had told me back then that those things are not like nuclear fusion – inserting a critical mass of cock into the right carefully-aligned cunt does not guarantee earth-moving fireworks let alone an end to hostilities. Revelation, that. So yeah; casual vanilla sex, blah blah….. I’d rather be knitting. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t actually dislike it as long as it’s consensual. I just find it about as exciting as organising my sock drawer.
Love and sex without kink? Never say never, but I don’t think that’s going to work for me. My sexuality is powered by my kinks, I’ve fucked for hours without being particularly interested in the proceedings, but show me a pair of handcuffs or a riding crop and you’ll have my full, enthusiastic attention straight away. I also have an insanely high libido which means that without lots of interesting sex, I get frustrated….and stroppy….and depressed.
Love on its own isn’t enough either. I spent many years in a loving but sexless relationship and it didn’t – couldn’t – last. I even stopped wanking for about three years because my fantasies diverged so much from my reality, every orgasm felt like a cruel, hopeless taunt. Not making that mistake again.
Kink…..it’s like air or water to me; I need it. Kink without partnered sex? I could live with that for a while as long as I have a big cupboard full of toys and plenty of alone time. Not forever though – sooner or later I’ll crave the warmth and comfort found nestling under the thumb of another. And let’s face it, impact play and denial just aren’t fun for me when I’m the one making the decisions. Without that accompanying sense of anticipation or suspense of being at someone else’s mercy, it’s all just a bit….disappointing. I’m too damn lazy to learn to self-tie so that’s off the table too. Bah. I want filth-laden fucking and I want a lot of it.
Kink and sex without love….it can work. It has worked for me in the past once I’d emerged all patched-up from therapy and armed with some self-knowledge with which to face the world. An old friend and I had some very good times in hotel rooms with an assortment of toys and a carefully-negotiated set of conditions. I could have carried on with that quite happily, but then I encountered the Mr.
He and I were friends as teenagers – just friends. We met again as friends and I found myself powerfully attracted to him. The first night we had sex, it was the best vanilla sex I’d ever experienced. I was truly present, completely engaged in the moment, endlessly wet and eager and insatiable. Wow. I thought. So this is what I’d been missing out on for all this time. “Friends with benefits” I said. I wasn’t sure whether I was ready for a committed relationship. It wasn’t much longer than a few months before I realised that I had fallen in love with this man – not glazed-eyed infatuation with a mirage, not the emotional dependency of a damaged child, but a respect and affection that had grown stronger than the arms-length barrier I’d imposed on my heart. I confessed my feelings and he declared his – we were officially a pair. There was I, in the warm wet patch of having great sex with someone I felt romantic, reciprocal love for. Result.
Being me though, pure vanilla wasn’t going to be able to hold me in place, soothe my anxieties or bring me the peace and satisfaction that I find in my kinks. What luck then, that I’d found a man eager to explore, who cares about me enough to want to make me happy, who is willing to take on the role of not just boyfriend, lover, partner in mischief; but also step up and learn to become my Dominant. To guide and support me, to chastise when necessary, to help me find my best self, both inside and out of the bedroom. When we have vanilla sex, I feel the connection between us and it powers my arousal in a way that previously only kink could manage. When we have kinky sex, I experience love for him so strong it’s almost worship. What makes me happiest is bringing him happiness. I’m a selfish creature by nature but striving to please and fulfil him as much as I possibly can seems no effort at all.
We’re still evolving, creating our own dynamic, enjoying the good times and looking after each other when either of us wobbles. I’m not fooling myself that it’ll all be hearts and flowers forever – life gets in the way so we’ll surely have our share of squabbles, sulks and strife. But here in this sweet spot, where we talk and confide, laugh, snuggle and fuck like BDSM rabbits, I think we’ve got a place to call our own for the long term. I’ve found romantic love, fabulous sex, and great kink – I never thought I’d be this lucky.
For D. I adore you.