Not Broken At All…

First: a caveat. I’m writing this on somebody else’s keyboard, which means that my fingers are unused to the particular subtleties of this computer. If a few misspellings appear, it’s not necessarily my fault.

I got into town on Friday, and between my plane being delayed and various mishaps at the airport, I didn’t arrive until 1 am. My wife picked me up, and by the time we got my bags off of the baggage claim and back to the 4-star hotel she’d gotten us a room at, it was about 1:30 or 2…

I did not, needless to say, have high hopes for the evening’s play possibilities, and I was tired beyond belief, so I didn’t have any dreams about getting up early. I wasn’t frustrated though — as I explained to my wife after my last, petulant and whiny blog post, “I’m just used to seeing you on a weekend once every one or two months. We’re living our sex life in two-day intervals. My brain just needs time to adjust to having you for a whole month.”

To which she responded, “This is not a temporary thing for me. This is not a fad. I plan on hurting and dominating you for a good long time. You don’t have to get it all out of the way today because you’re worried about me losing interest.”

Which is why I love her. Or is one of many reasons why I love her — she knows exactly what to say.

Anyway, we got back into the hotel room, which was delightful, with a wonderful view of the city, and we chatted for a while. Her laryngitis was particularly bad, but she could still whisper. And somewhere in the middle of our talking and hugging and undressing, we started to make love.

I went down on her, and she had a great orgasm, and then she pulled me up and we had lovely, hot, vanilla sex. I hadn’t come in days, so when I finally did it was like big, bright fireworks for me, and afterwards, we didn’t even bother to clean up — we just lay there, in each other’s arms, until we fell asleep talking to each other.

Okay, there was a little pain involved — when I slid into her, she hit me in the face, and when I was on the verge of coming, she started twisting and hurting my nipples, and somewhere in there she decided to cut some furrows into my chest with her nails for a second, but at heart, it was pretty kink-free sex. No honorifics, no D/s, very little S&M. The pain was the exception, little brief hiccups of kinkiness in a very vanilla, romance-novel session of lovemaking.

And it was nice. Since we got into BDSM, we’ve pretty much just had kinky sex. A lot of pain, a lot of domination, a lot of handcuffs and belts and ballgags and pissing. We don’t have any time for anything else, so we just jump right into sadomasochistic play and domination and submission. I mean, if you’ve got a scant few hours to work with, spend them doing what you’ve been dying to do for weeks, don’t have vanilla sex if you want to get pegged and hit and have your soul crushed by some semi-divine woman.

And I was worried — not worried, just wondering — if BDSM had hit the level of “fetish” for us, the definition that the vanilla world thinks of, which is, “Something you need in order to get off.” I was worried that I couldn’t get off without pain or being dominated. I was worred that, you know, BDSM had “broken” me, like all the crazy-ass commentators had described, and that I wouldn’t be able to get off at all without the heightened input that came from having all this emotional dominance, all my pain-receptors flaring, anal stimulation from a pegging.

In short, I wondered if a scoop of vanilla was going to cut it again after having a banana split.

Can I have sex without pain or domination or submission? Do I need them now to get off? And the answer is “no.” I can do just fine without them. Making love the old-fashioned-way still works just fine. Which is reassuring — I like kink. Don’t get me wrong, I love kink. But I think I’d worry about being “broken” if I couldn’t make love without the kink. So it was reassuring to just, you know, do it without the BDSM.

On the other hand, we woke up on Saturday, had rough sex, and then she pissed all over me in the bathtub while I masturbated, until I finally came as she fed me a mixture of her piss and my creampie at the same time. So, you know, that was fun.

I mean, let’s be honest, it’s nice to know you can still enjoy having a scoop of vanilla for dessert, but a banana split beats that to hell, right?