someecards

This past Friday night, I was talking with my best friend here at Ivy University and she mentioned that she had been hanging out with that guy from my frat and he had brought me up in conversation. Recently, he had said something vaguely complimentary and a little rude about me to Craftsmate, so I rolled my eyes and tried to change the subject.

“He says that he really wanted something with you but realizes that if you two were ever something that it probably wouldn’t last long. And he would rather be your friend and not lose you,” she blurted out.

It was the most vindicating thing I could possibly hear. Things were strange and ambiguous and he had been fluctuating between aggressive pursuit and then trying to basically Almost Famous me away to Craftsmate. I wanted to be his friend, just his friend, without the weird grey areas and the weird nonsense flirting.

Fast-forward a few hours. We’ve all had a little too much to drink and I spot that guy from my frat, rush over, throw my arms open and say a little too loudly, “I want to be your friend, too!”

“Ivy, we are friends,” he replied, laughing. He hugged me close.

I could feel that I was smiling like a moron, “that’s great. That’s really great."

We went out together Saturday night. As friends. Before we met up with some other people, he and I were having a drink and hanging around. Nearby, somebody turned and made a comment about our banter, saying we should go tour. We laughed, smiled at each other, and went to go find our friends. The evening was fabulous.

Sunday, we had dinner together. Conversation was easy and afterwards he walked me to the library in the most unassuming way possible.

Hurray. Chapter closed.

I was out last night at a party for one of my friends. Among the guests there was her boyfriend, who I had not previously met for longer than a brief encounter as he is a recent graduate.

We wound up talking and I told him that I thought he and my friend looked sweet together. You know, stuff people say to be nice. So, out of the blue, he asks me in response, “do you have a boyfriend?”

I shrug. “Nope.”

“Why not?” He asked.

I blinked. “I just…don’t.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” he replied, “I’m sure you’ll find somebody soon.”

“I wasn’t under the impression I was worried,” I said.

So, as you guys all know, I don’t currently have a primary. Sometimes, that upsets me a little, especially when I’m exploring the grey area or people I’m with do have primaries and I sort of feel unsure of what to do to sort of match in that situation.

But, for God’s sake, this guy doesn’t know that. So he’s assuming I’m some poor single girl collapsing into the fact that I don’t have a man. And he thought that what he said would be encouraging. As if I am so dependent on other men’s approval of my availability that I would not assume that I was worthy of male attention unless he or someone similar provided reassurance.

Seriously. Come suck my dick. Sometimes being single sucks, but being told by people like you that I’m worthy of having a significant other makes you suck ten times harder.

The Southern Gentleman asked to see my porn last night. No, not a porn I’ve been in (there are none). Rather, my porn collection. He wanted to see a video from the stash of things I watch.

I don’t watch a ton of videos, but I have a few gems I go to. The issue is he wanted to see “my favorite”. I don’t have a favorite, but the one that instantly popped into my mind presented a few problems. It was very kinky. It included James Deen, so it was kind of male-focused as well. Despite his proclivities, SG doesn’t watch a lot of kinky stuff (according to him). He also tends to focus on stuff that is really female-focused.

Not to mention I was uncomfortable. Sharing your porn is like sharing a piece of yourself. It’s a reflection of your taste and your libido. I was worried he’d be weirded out by it. But, he coaxed me into it. I was coaxed, not coerced. I mentioned that I was actually experiencing anxiety over him liking it. I’m rarely that insecure about my sexuality with him. To which he replied, “calm down, I’m sure I’ll like it.”

I was also juggling some feelings of ambivalence after his recent breakup. Sure, they had been poly and that wasn’t their undoing, but I wasn’t sure how to maneuver the waters after the entire thing. I didn’t just want to swoop in, but I wanted to show support. So, this was the first time we’d been vaguely sexual beyond kidding around after the entire thing.

We started the video. I was blushing at first and we were awkwardly making jokes about it, constantly sort of checking in to make sure the other was actually enjoying this as well. We then sort of switched into a sort of director’s cut mode, making more definitive commentary about the way James Deen was acting. He was impressed with the guy. Impressed.

And then he suddenly got serious.

“Ivy, I want to humiliate you like this,” he said, “I want to abuse you so casually.”

He got it. He got the dynamic right on the head.

Then came the flood of filth, the dirty-talking, the threats, the promises. The “do you own any rope?”, my “nope”, the “oh, I will”. He was inspired. Damn you, Cosmo, for being right. It is helpful to watch porn with a guy. It’s like when Caesar visited the statue of Alexander the Great. If you weren’t already ambitious, you are now.

He used the word “invoke” at one point. Please don’t tell me that’s not hot. Please.

When it ended, there was a sort of awkward pause. We kind of laughed about it. I wasn’t sure what to say.

“Now what?” he asked.

I shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“You want to watch another?”

Basically.

But that doesn’t mean I like handing control over to everyone. I am in no way chewing one of my followers out when I say that a comment made on a post I made about being sassy to someone who doesn’t own me got me thinking. Paraphrasing, the follower said that he was grateful that ballgags were around to put bratty subs like me in their place.

This was in reference to a person in my frat, who had told me that liked to dominate women, and who I decided to be a little mean to. Once again, I was not terribly offended by what the follower said, and I got the joke. But, it reminded me that I’m not submissive to everyone. And thank God.

There are people with terribly submissive personalities. I don’t think I’m one of these people. I consider myself driven. I believe that I am intelligent. So, no, when some guy makes a cheesy comment to me, I have a right to be sassy and not just melt into the kid’s arms at the first mention of interest. And I exercise it.

I’m not owned by everyone. I’m not submissive to everyone. That’s what makes the experience of someone being able to consensually tackle my strength and control me so powerful.

Well, yeah.

Yep.

There are 400 of you now. I am just insanely flattered. Thank you so much.

Currently sitting around in my panties and ravenously devouring a slice of pizza after a hot shower following a trip to the gym.

Good Lord I just can’t even. It’s just the simple things like this that make me happy as a pig in shit.