night week 2020 was a deeply stressful time. And I got through it with an incredible amount of sexting.
This makes it sound like the sexting was standard: photos of body parts, in and out and you’re done. It was much more intense than that.
Hours and hours of D/s fantasies. Revelations of our kinks. Deep, vivid descriptions of scenes. Sounds, thoughts, textures, emotions. Pain and pleasure and edging and denial. Tell me exactly what you want, exactly what you’re feeling. And if you don’t want something, tell me immediately.
The whole thing started so simply. We started talking about my neck. That ever-so-sensitive center of sexual energy for me, that is constantly hiding in plain sight. He’d started to wonder what would happen if he touched that neck. Or let his fingers, or hand linger around it for a while. Or maybe if he put his mouth on it. Or tongue. Or teeth.
I don’t remember all the exact words. I mostly just remember my pussy instantly developing its own heartbeat, and feeling that way for weeks after.
Before that, I had wanted to avoid and ignore my submissive side. The result of one too many people taking advantage of it or hurting it, perhaps. He later said he had no idea I was so submissive. But suddenly it all came flying out, just by talking about my neck like that. In a huge rush, I had built this beautiful secret world of pleasure with someone who had thoughts like I did, and who could write beautiful (and fucking hot) in-depth paragraphs about them.
We both had external worlds to tend to as this was all going on. I was staying with a friend at the time (otherwise I probably would have just been masturbating myself into oblivion for weeks) and he would end up going on a trip to visit a friend’s family. But we thought about each other constantly. It was like being physically present, but mentally out in space. Like, trippy psychedelic here-is-every-dark-and-beautiful-sexy-time-you-could-think-of space. Fuck, it was so heady.
It was with a good friend. Someone who is still a friend. Who, yes, I am still attracted to.
And then that friend started Prozac.
Our dark secret world didn’t immediately disappear. It was more like, it felt weirder and then faded away. The last scene we wrote was more about pain and punishment than I’d like. More extreme. Like he was trying hard to make himself feel something so he wanted to incorporate electroshock and humiliation. I felt like I wasn’t doing a good job. The intensity was there but there was a disconnect. That last scene was just before Christmas.
We still talk every day. Texts and audio notes. He is going through *a lot* of personal work and therapy (hence the Prozac) and is not what one would call available. But at the same time, in other ways he is available for me. And those ways are meaningful.
All of this is to say, the other night I realized (not like it’s a big shock) that I have really deep feelings for him. It doesn’t change anything. I’m not going to do anything, probably won’t even tell him about them. But still. It’s nice to know.
So I’m just going to write about it here. There you have it.