fuck baseball – Ivy

Fuck Baseball, Part Six

Craftsmate and I determined that I was hung up on the rules of “baseball”. That there was a decided order in which things were done and in which people engaged with each other.

“I can’t help it,” I said, “you ran straight across the field to second base, you probably had to knock over the pitcher.”

“Nah,” he replied, “when I was a kid, I was the catcher. Because I didn’t mind balls flying at my face.”

I laughed. I don’t know why I get hung up on standards prescribed by a society of whose counterculture I seem to belong to in more than one way. I don’t know why I would give in to the obligation to kiss someone when I didn’t want to.

Craftsmate is a play partner. Him playing with my nipples is an expression of a play dynamic and not the progression of a romantic relationship which neither of us have any interest in. Because I’ve never had the BDSM without at least the semblance of a traditional relationship frame, I had a little trouble categorizing Craftsmate and determining what was appropriate.

But I think what’s appropriate is what makes us feel good and what is mutually enjoyed and respectful. And that’s a lot of stuff, but it’s not kissing and it’s not sex, coital or otherwise, which I determined in going over my boundaries with myself.

So fuck baseball. Seriously. I don’t even like the game, so why would I follow its stupid rules? If I want the base to base progression, I’ll do it out of willingness, but not obligation.

keepingitinthefamily:

Daddy, when is it baseball season again?

chipwillis:

libraryvixen:

swing batter

source needed

Jonathan Leder for Jacques magazine I believe.

http://jonathanleder.blogspot.com/?zx=3a5b3e3b0021f44

Fuck Baseball, Part Five

I was really, really enjoying what was going on with Craftsmate. On a lot of levels. I was blindfolded, tied to the bed, having my nipples played with, and being condescended to. Just about every part of that is an A+ in my book.

Except that stupid creeping feeling came up again where my brain went “well, he didn’t even try to kiss me, so he must not respect me at all”. Except, I didn’t particularly want to kiss Craftsmate. He’s a fun friend and an interesting activity partner, but I just didn’t feel too terribly inclined to kiss him.

But I’m lying there and thinking, “well, here’s the natural progression of stuff and we’re not doing the natural progression so this is wrong and I am a whore”.

Which is, uh, how I felt with that guy from my frat that time we hooked up. Even if kissing did kind of clash with the intended activity.

But I asked and he kissed me. Awkwardly. We were both uncomfortable and it was plainly obvious that neither of us particularly wanted to. And so I made him untie me and I proceeded to freak out about how sleazy I am.

So, uh, sorry to put a damper on the sexy for a moment. But, yes, it’s honestly how that went down and I wasn’t particularly proud. But, I think it’s important to share this stuff with the sexy. And, we got to talking and, yes, I promise, there’s a happy solution.

Fuck Baseball, Part Four

One of the things Craftsmate had listed wanting to do was to torture my nipples. And when he put it that way it was kind of hard to refuse.

He retied me on my back, blindfolded me and pulled my shirt up. After tugging my bra up as well, I heard him chuckle a bit under his breath and felt myself tense nervously.

He twisted, pulled, and pinched hard. I gasped when he would go from gently brushing his fingers over them to pulling them hard while twisting them.

Somewhere amidst the condescension and teasing, he blurted out, “this reminds me of Fight Club.”

“Uh?” I blinked behind the blindfold.

“That part where he says that he wanted to destroy something beautiful,” Craftsmate replied, stroking his fingers over my nipples before flicking them.

I went to say something, but all I could manage was an “oh”.

Fuck Baseball, Part Three

At one point, Craftsmate made me admit that I was a dirty little whore.

Of all the things I admitted, it probably made me blush most.

Mostly because of the shock he feigned when he finally got me to look him in the eyes and admit it.

It was also what made me the wettest.

Fuck Baseball, Part Two

“I want to hear what you like,” Craftsmate said after he had finished listing off what he wanted to do. I was aroused, I could feel myself blushing and I was having trouble thinking totally straight. Not to mention I find having to name the things I’m into totally humiliating.

“Why don’t you just read my tumblr?” I whined, “it’s all right there.”

He laughed and reached up, looping his fingers through my hair. “Because I want to hear it from you.” I attempted to turn my head away and he twisted his hand, pulling me back and forcing me to look up at him. “I want to hear it from you and I want you to look at me while you say it.”

I tried to turn my head once more, but he pulled it back roughly by the hair. Squeezing my eyes shut, I managed to stammer out, “I…ah…I like getting tied up and used.”

“Open your eyes and say it again.”

I huffed and shook my head. “I can’t.” He pulled my head back and I gasped, opening my eyes. “I like to be tied up and used.”

He grinned, “used how?”

“Roughly,” I choked out, thoroughly humiliated but glad the ordeal was over.

“Good,” he smirked and patted my head. “Now, what else?”

Fuck Baseball, Part One

Craftsmate and I had determined that for every three times he had threatened to do something, he maybe carried the threat to completion once. This was, of course, in reference to whenever I was a brat while we were playing around.

And, naturally, we were having this conversation while I was tied up beside him on my bed, lying on my stomach and resting my head on my pillow.

Seemingly out of nowhere, he started laughing. I blinked and craned my neck to look up at him. “What’s so funny?” He shook his head, but I persisted. “Come on, tell me. Come on.”

“I’m just thinking,” he finally said, “about all the stuff I want to do to you when you say I don’t do what I threaten to.”

“Like what?” I asked.

He reached down and stroked my shoulder. I cannot remember the entire list or even begin to do it justice when I tell you it was some of the hottest stuff just sort of casually spelled out in a list.

Maybe if he’s really nice he’ll write it out and I can reproduce it here.