Prologue: I’ve had a good run that includes enough leather (mine and two partners’) to open a store, vacuum pumps for most body parts, and dildos from large to OMG huge, slings, cock rings, ball stretchers, and tit clamps. A line of floggers a yard long.
I started getting fucked on my back with legs pushed over my head and progressed to standing, hands and knees, with one leg on the side of the bed, to upside down (interesting). I’ve been an SM bottom and top. I tried water sports twice and catheters once. Gone from narrow to wide sounds in a matter of months. I’m an excellent fisting top and bottom. In short, I’ve done it all, save hard drugs and knife play.
Today: With the partner everyone would love to have, it’s back to basics. Back to me at twenty-eight experiencing the thrill of being consumed by passion as naked we took each other to ultimate heaven. Now, a man in a harness is not a turn on; he’s a reminder of old times but also the boyfriend who relied on leather to get hard (I exaggerate). Ten rings stretching balls no longer titillate, and when I remember something similar but less extreme, they are nothing at all, because the the rings deadened sensation. You can flog my back and balls, but now I’ll ask you to stop after a few minutes. OK, I’ll admit, I still go weak if you pinch my tits, and an experienced fist is still the Universe’s finest gift, and profiles are now just read to see if the man has a whit of intelligence and ever better irony.