Femme Friday

Thursday night we were supposed to get together. In the middle of the afternoon it turned out he was unable to get out of a conference call that would start at 7pm that evening and could go on for whoever knows how long. Dinner was canceled and subsequently all the rest of the plans I’d had for that night. Each of us had a little while to pout about it, because that seems to be how we each handle it, but after an hour or so we seemed to be doing a little better. In fact, we got to talk on messenger all night long while he took that phone call and another one an hour later. Our conversation was going all over the place, with me admitting a few things that I normally wouldn’t (for fear of looking crazy).

Friday morning and Friday afternoon I’d had just about enough with the world. What I wanted more than anything was to hit my boy and call it a night. I was reluctant to see him at all, because my husband and I celebrated our 10 year anniversary over the weekend (but today is the offical day) and I didn’t know how he’d feel about sharing any part of the weekend with j. He had planned on running some errands that morning though, so after a bit of situating, we decided I ought to spend the night with j and that he’d just come and pick me up the next day and we’d go on our date.

When I got dropped off at j’s door (with little notice that I was coming over at all, really) he answered it while hiding behind it, so I knew he was dressed ‘appropriately’, which to us means that he’s nude and wearing just cuffs around his ankles and wrists. This is entirely plausible for most of the year because of where we live, and the pretty consistent and warm temperature. Once I got inside though, I saw that he’d taken ‘appropriate’ a step further and was actually wearing all of the pretty stuff we bought for him a couple of weeks ago and did nothing with. So my boy was looking pretty fantastic in his pink silk robe and his dark stockings.

He knelt for me for a bit and we caught up on what’d happened during the week. I told him that I wanted to hurt him but to be honest, right this second, I don’t even think that happened. What I remember happening was taking him to bed straight away so I could have some fun with him. I remember holding him and pressing him into the bed and chaining him to the headboard so that I could use his body and so he couldn’t move. I remember slowly undressing him and using him. I also remember the fun of gender reversal.

Typically when I’m fantasizing, I’m fantasizing about taking him. In bed in the morning I usually roll him over and press myself up against his ass and I can rub myself to orgasm and he usually gets into it just as much as I do. So I decided that since we were already in this place and in this frame of mind, I might as well put to good use the FeelDoe and harness that I have stashed at his house for occasions just like this.

I totally understand why guys might balk at the idea of sex if they’re new to it. Really. I don’t think I did any part of that right. For a while, I wasn’t even certain I was poking him in the right way. We tried several different positions, pillows under the hips, me kneeling behind him, me standing behind him, I may as well have climbed up on something and then jumped on top of him at the rate we were going. Eventually we finally found a position that was going to work, which involved him being slung over the bed sideways and me standing between his legs behind him. We were positioned well and I was pretty certain I was going to get this right and that’s when he looked back over his shoulder and told me that my cock was just too big.

Sigh.

But it sure didn’t ruin anything. We just decided to have a good old time using our own genetalia in the way they’re typically used. Afterwards, he curled up against me. We ended up roaming all over the bed really. One of the best positions was when he had his head resting against my hip, looking up at me, so I could run my hands down his stocking-clad legs. Eventually he was rid of the stockings too, so I could just touch his skin. I rubbed his feet and he told me he’d never had that done before. Now though, now he can see why I like having it done so much.

It was another night where he told me that he thought I was the best boyfriend ever. I always feel a little shy when he says it, but happy, and a little bit proud. So it was only natural that when we went out together last night, I reassure him that I’d already planned Valentine’s Day for us and that he didn’t need to. I think he knew already though, because he told me he liked how I did it, that if it was left up to him, he’d stress out about making the perfect plans. I much prefer it this way. After all, if I’m going to be his boyfriend, he’s going to have to be my girlfriend, and I like to spoil my girls with romantic dates and pretty things. That’s just how I am.

Gender Fuckery

This is actually one of my favorite topics. I’ve been dealing with gender issues for as long as I can remember. It started innocently enough, making a male character in a game instead of a female. Often times, my personality seems to fit the stereotypical male more than the stereotypical female so I figured I could pull it off convincingly enough. I found when doing this that a lot of what I said, or how I thought, or the way that I did things went over so much better when people thought I was a man than when I was a woman that I never went back. Not until about two years ago when I got introduced to Second Life. I wanted to stop roleplaying for a while and just be me, and in order to do that, I’d have to make a female avatar and be myself. A scary concept after existing online only as fictional characters.

After that huge step foward, I came to realize that I like a lot of what I do from the male perspective better than the female. A lot of this is just the things I’d been taught or what I’d witnessed along the way and most of it isn’t factual. For instance, I was convinced for many years that women certainly couldn’t be in control. Their emotions would get in the way every single time. To some degree I still believe that, but I don’t think it’s such a terrible-bad thing anymore. So what. We’re emotional. Sometimes we’re more compassionate, or could be, anyhow. Our genders don’t really determine a whole lot socially. This was a conversation that j and I got into when we decided to go have breakfast at half past midnight in a cute little diner.

When I step back and look at it, I know it has nothing to do with gender. A lot of everything has to do with how we were raised, the values instilled within us when we were young. Even now I can look back and see the negative reactions from family members and friends alike when they realized that I was the one in charge of my relationships. I’m sure that’s where a lot of it stems from. Another factor is just hanging around the wrong people or gleening the wrong information from people. I wasn’t looking at the big picture.

What brought all of this to mind though was one really hot comment that came from j when I had him pinned face-down on the bed the following morning, after our gender talk in the diner full of crazies. It was a really hot comment to me now, but when it was said, it brought a whole lot of thoughts that I’d had over the past couple of years right to the surface of my brain and I almost, almost, couldn’t move past it to keep enjoying myself. But I did. Which, to me, shows growth in that area. So huzzah for me!

I came back from the bathroom and crawled over him, as I usually do. He sleeps nearer to the bathroom and I don’t want to walk around the bed. I usually get right up on him and start biting, because that’s what I like to do. Then I’ll rub myself against him and typically he’ll just turn himself right over, happy to offer his ass to me. I can have an entire orgasm from this, actually, and most often do. This time he actually spoke. He told me that he wanted to feel me inside of him. As I type it now, even, it’s hot to me. At the precise moment that he said it, I had to turn it over in my head. I had to make sure he’d said what he said. For a split second, I thought he was confused. Then I realized what he was wanting. I might have even put forth the extra effort to do just that, except the little voice in my head prevented me from doing it.

What very nearly came out of my mouth was that he’d never actually feel me inside of him. He’d only feel some silicone toy inside of him. He’d only feel the false representation of what he really wanted to feel inside of him. My boy’s a smart creature though and he surely would have retorted that it absolutely is me because we say it’s me, because we say it’s an extention of me, and that’s what he wants. He didn’t have to though because my good sense kicked in! (For once.) I kept my mouth shut, but I kept those words at the forefront of my mind.

What really got me about it was the fact that I’ve been struggling with the issue myself. In my fantasies I can always push him up against  a wall and take him. Bend him over the couch and take him. Smack him around and then penetrate him. Penetration is a huge part of what I fantasize about. In my fantasies, it happens just like that though. There’s no ‘Oh, hold on one second while I pull out this harness and finaggle a fake cock into it and then line it up just right so that maybe I’ll get some stimulation from it as well and then we’ll get to slowly warming you up so that it’s enjoyable for you and so we don’t have health issues later on down the road. I’ll be right back. Don’t lose that arousal.’ None of that. It’s just bam, bam, done. That’s hot. What I really have to go through to get it? Not so much.

So I took this super intimate problem to the only person that I’d trust with such a super intimate problem and we discussed ways to make it a little better. Maybe start play with it already under my clothes. Like, are you happy to see me or is that a fake dong in your jeans, eh? Right. But it’s plausible. I mean, it sure could happen. Maybe try incorporating it into some of our gender play. Those times when j’s crawling around in just panties and painted toenails and the such. Eventually something will click and it won’t seem so…fake to me, or so I like to think.

Fast foward two days to when we have a date (yes, yes, a for reals kind of date because over the weekend he was all kinds of cute and asked me if I’d go to the movies with him and I said yes, constituting a date) and he says something else that’s all different kinds of hot to me. As I’ve got my arm around his shoulders and we’re waiting for the theater to be cleaned he whispers to me how he likes that he always feels like the girl when we’re out. Zing! I love that. I love that because that’s the feeling I like to create. Because I like to take on the traditionally masculine role, except somehow I don’t ever get to pay, which is not traditional, but I don’t think I’m going to argue it either. When I plan the dates, I get to pay, so it’s all good.

So emotionally, I’m totally the guy. If only I could pull it all together so it could be done sexually as well, because I get this feeling that we both totally want it. Really bad. Me more than him probably, which is why it’s so frustrating for me. I’m sure I’ll get there.