I’ve gone over my first time engaging in ‘hot chat’ (which is BBS slang for tinysex which is MUSH slang for – and I’m using the technical phrasing here – getting nasty on-line), discussed how I learned about sex through pretending to be older then I was (by, oh, fifteen or twenty years), and I’ve even discussed how I got hooked on phone sex.
One interesting ancedote from that period: I remember the exact conversation when I learned in a very personal way the difference between first person and third person narrative. Forget high school English – this is the way to learn about story telling. I was having a conversation with the person to whom I would eventually lose my virginity to (not that great a story and a rather forgettable experience). Until this point I had written all of my prose as such:
“Shadow strokes her hair gently,” or, “Shadow presses her down to the floor.”
After a bit of this, my partner gently suggested, “Why don’t you address these missives to me instead of…her? It is me you want to be doing these to, isn’t it?” Well, yes. Of course. Why hadn’t I realized this before?
I still do use third person at times – it has some very specific uses, such as when I don’t necessarily want to scare the person away by making it too personal – but I learned a very valuable lesson that day: I want to fuck you, not her.
So where did I go from there? Aside from honing my skills and learning some valuable lessons about relationships, two highpoints stand out: actually meeting some of the people I spent hours writing erotic missives to and gaining an understanding of the kinkier aspects of play (D/s, B&D, S&M, and half a dozen other impressive acronyms).
The first highlight – meeting people in person – was tricky at first. Most didn’t know my true age. A few did. Most of the women I was speaking to were in their thirties. I was about seventeen. When I came clean (which only happened because I wanted to meet them), some reacted in shock, some in anger, some in amusement. All of them got over it and eventually agreed to meet me, despite how young I was (I wonder what that says?). I lost my virginity this way. Not all encounters ended in sex, but enough did that I realized something important. Real life sex was a bit of a disappointment.
Bad and mediocre sex didn’t even come close to what I could experience with words, voice, and imagination. And while some of the experiences were fun and exciting, none of them were great. With this understanding came another important realization – it wasn’t the medium (real life vs. virtual) that was at fault. It was the fact that in a world of words, I had a lot more control in how things would work out. I needed to learn how to make this work in reality.
In time, this came. And with it came the true rush of fulfilling expectations and enjoying the sins of the flesh. But it came with me in control. While some of my most blissful moments have come when I flirted with relaxing control with someone I trusted, I have yet to abandon myself completely to someone else’s vision and promise of pleasure. There are times I will think about this and feel something akin to wistful regret…but I have long accepted it as part of how I live my life today. Some day perhaps.
But not yet.
Our own lines are the most challenging boundaries to break through…
“I have yet to abandon myself completely to someone else’s vision and promise of pleasure.”
I, too. My own personal sense of submission evokes the image of me letting out my own leash inches at a time. There are times I don’t trust myself- how am I to trust another human?
There are times I have given in to the sense of abandon, and it has always been bittersweet. It has been a rush that ended in regret. Over the years I have pulled the walls in closer, tighter, fortify them with each painful betrayal of another. Yet I know that my truest pleasures will only come outside of this fortress… maybe even just in the destruction of the walls themselves.