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On Friday, we crossed a few boundaries with each other. Not disastrously, but Switch and I both sort of took the dominant role too far in an effort to please the other. As a result, we both wound up with a little bit of overkill on the cruelty end of dominating something. Fortunately, this wasn’t irreparable. 

We talked a little bit about it afterwards to check in and neither of us were completely shattered. In fact, we’d both enjoyed it, but knew there were a few problematic things lingering that had gone on. Mostly, this was in reference to a few acts of degradation that I had put him through and then a few he had put me through. They were just maybe a bit too degrading.

But then last night we actually sat down and discussed the nitty gritty of limits, boundaries, etc. We developed a safe word that works both ways. We admitted our mistakes.

And then we had a really awesome night.

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“My girlfriend and I are Roger and Jane,” the Southern Gentleman commented as we watched Mad Men

I blinked. “Please don’t tell me that. She’s a nice girl.”

Last week, he’d complained about her talking dirty not because she actually genuinely wanted to but to make him happy. It was unenthusiastic and a little sad. He’s always conflicted about her and he always comes to me about it.

“She’s so fun and beautiful and happy,” he continued, “but so…just…she doesn’t look beyond herself. She can’t look beyond herself.”

I sighed, “this is me saying this to you as a friend. But please promise me you won’t shack up with just another version of her. Because I know that’s going to be the easy and safe and fun option for you and it’s what a lot of the people around you are going to like. Please pick someone I can bear sitting around on a porch and smoking a joint with.” I realized how deep I’d just gotten and tacked on, “end of preaching, I promise.”

Somehow, he seemed all right with what I said and replied, “can we talk about this some more later?”

“Yeah, man,” I returned my attention to the tv, “woah. This is a really hip Viagra commercial.”

When we have these conversations, it’s when I realize I value him more as a close friend than as someone I mess around with. It’s strange to care so much about someone you’re physically involved with but to want to imagine being friends with them 20 years down the line than being with them. I know we’re not meant for each other and I don’t want to force it. But there’s a sensitivity there between the two of us. We really, honestly care about each other. We genuinely understand each other. And while we have really awesome sex, there’s something a lot deeper there that isn’t romantic so much as a really deep compassion between two very similar people. This blog tends to really capture only the silliness and sexuality which, while key to our relationship, is not its entirety at all.

Yikes, this was deeply personal post. Can we please end on a moment of silent appreciation for the pink towel on Roger’s head?

sexmahoney:

Great Moments in Freeze Frame #1696 – Mad Men

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Well, good thing other sexy tumblrs are writing out my fantasies for me so I don’t have to. 

Now somebody get me something to fan myself with.

quantumsatis:

You know why I’ve made you kneel on a towel pet?

It goes like this. I’m going to talk to you, I’m going to whisper sinful things in your ear. I’m going to tease you with words but I will not touch you.

You see there will be no touching until you have dripped your honey on the towel. 

Do you understand now pet? Just nod and listen.

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This is one of my favorite games.

rolledtrousers:

I like to play a little game, when you can’t speak. It’s a mean little game, but I find it amusing. You find it infuriating. That’s quite possibly what amuses me so about it, but then I always was a sucker for your reactions. 

I like to talk to you, hold long conversations when your only input is the most monosyllabic of moans, perhaps a ‘uh uh’ if you really try. So I do your half of the conversation for you, because I’m generous like that. 

“You know, the way you’re looking at me, it’s almost like you like being tied up and gagged like this. Do you like it?” You fix me with a piercing, angry gaze, all furrowed brows and needles for eyes. 

“You mean you do? Oh that’s wonderful news. We should keep you like this more often then! I’d hate to get in the way of you and your passions.” 

And so forth. It’s just a little game, but it’s one I enjoy ever so much. 

Won’t you indulge me?