nude – Page 11 – Ivy

I want to trust you like this. I’d like to imagine that as I heard your car pull away and smelled the exhaust that I wouldn’t panic. Because that’s the way I love someone and it’s the reason why I don’t give very many people a lot of myself, I go hard, for a lack of a better expression.

It makes everything somewhat fragile, I’ll admit, but it’s incredibly rewarding. It’s in the knives, the choking, the crazy acts of exhibitionism. I want to trust hard and I want that trust to be pushed far before being validated. Sometimes it’s frightening and sometimes it isn’t terribly safe, but that’s why I don’t do it with everyone. I wouldn’t let just anyone leave me on that road.

I want hard spankings. I like hard spankings. I love the way my ass feels afterwards, I love the dynamic during. But when it comes to actually getting them, I’m a big baby. A few hits in and I’m whining for the person delivering them to stop.

However, if they acquiesce to my pleas, I automatically want them to just keep spanking me. It’s not that I don’t know what I want. I know what I want. I want someone to unflinchingly give me a long, hard spanking while I lie over their knee and squirm and beg for them to stop. Except, they don’t stop.

This is one of the things I appreciate about safewords. It marks a difference between an in-scene “stop” to enhance the dynamics (and account for the natural impulse to tell someone to stop hitting you) and a legitimate, serious word that establishes that limits are being pushed and ends the scene. So, I can get away with being spanked longer, even when I protest and whine, and still have some way of actually ending things when the “stop"s I yell become a little more real.

I remember when there was that phase in middle school where guys would say that girls’ slumber parties consisted of comparing breasts and practicing kissing. And I remember thinking, “God, I wish.”

Because there’s something about the silly and adventurous sort of fun two girls can have exploring each others’ bodies. There’s a feeling of you’ve got what I’ve got, but it’s so different because it’s on you and I can touch it and not feel it the way I would feel it if it were my own but I can vaguely understand how it feels for you. I’ll never be able to relate to a handjob, but I can assume on a very basic level how a girl feels when I’m fingering her.

It’s not even a skill-set sort of thing so much as a fascination with something that is so much you and also so much an “other”. It’s mine but it’s not mine. It’s familiar and it’s alien. And there’s just something about that which makes it somehow a little more giggly and playful and fun than stuff with guys. I don’t know. Call it slumber party syndrome.

The thief likes to make me do this.

Kneeling, ass up, back arched, hands spreading myself apart, mouth open. It emphasizes vulnerability, availability, openness. I’m not allowed to speak when I do it, just listen and receive.

At first, I wasn’t too into the idea. I didn’t like how, after a few minutes, having my mouth open would make me drool. I didn’t enjoy just how exposed and small it made me feel.

However, since then, it’s grown on me. Sometimes, I don’t want it to end. It’s just so very simple. And when I seem a bit overwhelmed to him or when I have too much on my mind, he’ll stop what he’s doing and have me get into this position. It centers me. I don’t even mind the drooling anymore.

I’m sorry, but that’s the blandest, worst-looking salad I’ve ever seen.

Seriously, creators of pornography. Take pride in your work.

Sheesh.

I like and am simultaneously completely intimidated by the prospect of being shared between two men. I know it’s super silly to be like “damn that’s a lot of penis”. But, really, damn. That’s a lot of penis.

I guess it’s totally the same as a man and a woman in terms of having two people to pay attention to. But I guess I am just vaguely overwhelmed at the prospect of how much penis that is.

This 2 am penis anxiety brought to you by the people at thinkivykink.

He tapes her up that way to ensure she’s available.

But he leaves her that way to ensure she’s patient.

Oh, tumblr, I just can’t make myself sleep. I hate this feeling.

I mentioned a little while ago on this tumblr that I have a friend who wants to paint me.

We keep sort of arranging to get together and make it happen, but plans keep changing. To be honest, I’ve also been horribly nervous about the whole thing. We’ve sort of fluctuated on how much of me she’d paint, whether or not I’d be wearing clothes, etc.

She said we should start out small and, if I’m comfortable, she’d love to have me back. So, I think we’re just doing my face or something.

I’m not sure how I feel about being that closely scrutinized. It was sort of why nude appealed to me, if that makes any sense. I could sort of hide behind my nudity without getting into the minute details of, say, my face.

But apparently it’s happening – potentially – early next week.