So as I write this, I’m laid out in the sofa, indifferently watching TV, Master Chef Australia on BSkyB, I’ve learnt that irrespective of country, culture, ideology, or looks, if you’re a useless cook you really look like a a fucking tool on TV. They’ve stunningly destroyed some excellent ingredients by really fucking around.
So my first few days of work are over, Monday I’m visiting the other office outside of London, not really looking forward to going outside of the M25, provincial England really is the land that time forgot, I like going on holiday to see different countries and cultures, but somehow I can’t do that on my own country, it often feels to me that I’ve just got out of a time machine.
I suppose that given I live in the east end, only 30 mins to Centre Point we have access to everything an Alpha City has to offer. We’d be lost if we moved.
So here I am vegging on the sofa, thinking about bits of London, thinking about how the schmucks on TV are destroying good food by bring overly pretentious and of course the one thing I always think of fucking.
My mind drifted back to some past relationships and some of the things I got up to. Often you hear a gripe that my partner won’t do things in bed that they’ve done with others. I’ve never really understood that attitude, there are many things I wouldn’t dream of doing sexually with my wife that I’ve done with others, mainly because I know she really wouldn’t enjoy it even though she has the occasional fantasy about it.
I got to thinking about a number of girlfriends that I had semi D/s sexual relations with (I’ve also just remembered a guy I knew who thought he was a dom but in actual fact was an abuser).
This one particular woman I was thinking of was five years younger than me, we met working for the same company. She was going through a period if sexual exploration and we hit it off as I’m very permissive within a consent framework. That is, if you are a legally consenting adult of sound mind I’m cool with doing anything.
So because we worked in the same building I started encouraging her to push her boundaries. I’d ask her to go to a rest room trim her pubes and send them to me in internal mail. To finger herself and smear the rim of a tea cup and bring a friendly cuppa to me, she’d wear stockings and go commando because I said I liked that.
We kept on exploring her boundaries, mostly my ideas, which she’d put into play at my behest. She liked to think that she was becoming naughtier and naughtier and as we weren’t exclusive she started expanding to some of the things outside of us, except a lot of the men she hung with weren’t as open.
I have to admit that the actual sex was pretty vanilla, I could make her cum very easily (the kind where you can’t move afterwards) but the opposite wasn’t true, somehow her technique didn’t do it for me.
So because her boundaries where changing and she was becoming “naughtier” things became quite interesting for a while. One Sunday evening she called me to tell me some fella had invited himself around to cook for her. I already knew she had ambivalent feelings towards him, nice, not friend zone material, not boyfriend material must an OK bloke.
So I suggested that she could be a naughty girl, she agreed and asked what I thought would be naughty, as he was cooking I suggested she leave her phone on go into the kitchen kneel and suck him with the phone in a place where I could hear and that she direct what she was saying to me rather than him.
So she did. A few days later she did confess that we were operating right on the edge of her boundary, she wanted to do it because; me, but not want to do it because; him.
It was an interesting relationship, its not something I would be comfortable doing with my wife as I love her in a totally different way to the feelings I had for this eX and I would seriously council my wife not to try it if she felt the need to push her boundaries in a different direction as it’s not really a sustainable thing in a committed relationship with children involved.