Welcome back!

“You’re only about 40 percent like yourself in your blog.”

J observed this from across the table at my favorite pizza place. We were quietly scarfing antipasto salad, betraying the fact that we have learned to eat in silence in front of each other.

“What is the other 60 percent like?”

“Someone else.”

Both C and J know about this blog, C is indifferent and mildly hostile towards it – for that reason he chooses not to read. J has known about it since before our first date although as far as he tells me, he still hasn’t read the entire thing.

He drove home a point that I have known for a long time. This is all just a blurry snapshot of who I am. If you think you have Ellie in focus, think again. If you think you have J or C in focus, well that is just absurd. Certain days when I am having sex, I lose track of who I am but I think that is the best gift a lover can give me. The drive to destabilize myself before helping to put me back together again.

Two nights ago I found myself blindfolded on my bed, my thighs spread and wrists tied to each leg. Rope forming lattices and criss-crosses around my torso and breasts. From the foot of the bed I hear J’s voice above me.

“God, you look so beautiful.”

It has always been a hard thing to believe. C can say it and have me stomach the compliment 100 percent of the time. I’ve long since given up questioning his sincerity. J can convince me about 50 percent of the time. Nothing changes in him or the way he says it from moment to moment – it will come as I get to know him better and trust myself to be beautiful to him.

J is running something against my thighs. An ice cube? No, it isn’t wet. He brushes it against my exposed pussy for a brief moment and then I feel him shift over me and sense him near my face.

“Open,” he commands.

I open my lips hesitantly.

“Wider.”

I drop my jaw further, lips sliding over teeth, tongue presented delicately against the bottom of my mouth.

“Bite.”

I bite into. . . a sweet, ripe pear. I chew the tiny bite slowly and he leans towards me to kiss the juices from my lips.

I feel beautiful again without him saying anything at all.

It is with this fanfare and caveat that I announce the arrival of J’s blog, Eternal Apprentice. When he told me he was going to do it, I was intrigued. When he actually started posting, I was thrilled. Looking at our experiences from his perspective was enlightening. I’d say that he is about 40 percent like himself as well. I hope you will head over to his little corner of the sexblog land and let him know what you think. His blogroll is woefully deficient and while I could have recommended many great places to start, J is capable of making his own friends. He is dear to me and I hope he becomes dear to all of you as well.

Remember how I mentioned last week that I got tied up with some black rope? Well, I’m still spending a lot of time thinking about it and so is J.

J tied me up at the ankles and wrists and then lashed my wrists next to my knees. It was a bit like this except I was on my back with my legs straight up in the air.

The procedure and ceremony that had to go into it was amazing and completely breathtaking. J spends a lot of time claiming to be a novice and acting less sexually experienced than he is. But, when it comes down to it, he takes complete ownership of his desire and enjoyment when we are in bed together. During this particular encounter he worked silently and efficiently as he tied me up. With each looping of the rope around my ankles or wrists, my heart beat faster and I felt myself getting wetter.

There was something delicious and utterly terrifying about what was going on. With my legs and arms finally bound I felt I had no outlet at all for my sexual energy. I felt like no more than a bundle of nerves and warm flesh at the mercy of J. I longed for him to touch me but I didn’t dare to ask – in fact I apparently remained silent the entire encounter. I could swear I said a few things but J claims I just stared at his face the entire time.

He took a long time to decide to touch me instead spending long moments with one hand on my ankles shifting my legs as he pleased. He inspected my body up close, staring in a way that should have made me incredibly uncomfortable. Instead it just heightened my anticipation. Then he looked at me and with a remarkable glint in his eyes said, “You don’t just look helpless, you really are helpless.” I felt this sudden terror and realized that I was finally in it, I could feel the drama we were acting out and I loved riding the sensation.

As I stared into J’s eyes he slid his cock inside me, resting my legs against his chest. As he pounded into me, I was riveted in the moment. I felt as if I could see myself from the outside and as if I was watching him from a different place as well. I know that people talk about “subspace” and I’m not sure if it was that, but it was something different than I’ve ever felt before – an intellectual distance in order to secure my sanity in this moment of intense subordination of will.

After a period of time, J asked me where he should come on me. Without waiting for my answer, he pulled off his condom, dropped my legs and came on my face. I must have looked stunned because he scrambled for the ropes and after untying me quickly held me and asked if I was alright.

It turns out that my look of terror never really subsisted and he had been worried about me, that I was about to crack. As he held me, I explained that I was thrilled and hadn’t even considered using my safe word. He admit that the fear in my eyes and the power he felt had been a huge turn-on. As he held me, he was grinning like a Cheshire cat – his face became undeniably and unrelentingly handsome in that moment. J is always a handsome man but he was radiating such confidence and beauty in that moment that he almost looked like a different person.

I can’t wait to do it again, next time we’ll take pictures.

I’ve really only hinted at this here before but over the past several months I have had a growing interest in BDSM. I have always been basically sexually submissive and the first time that C pinned my hands over my head during sex, I got an amazing rush. Since that time he and I have been experimenting with various things. We started off with him tying up my wrists with a scarf or blindfolding me in a similar manner. During these exchanges, he was never rough with me but I enjoyed being bound. Back in June I was spanked for the first time. Shortly after this, I got a set of restraints and we have used them a few times to tie me down to the bed. Throughout it all, C has been fairly indifferent to these events. He enjoys pleasing me but hasn’t gotten any inate enjoyment from being dominant.

A few months ago, I thought we had reached a breakthrough of sorts. He was getting more spontaneous with the rough stuff and even seemed to be enjoying himself. I never wanted elaborate “scenes” but I did want him to take things into his own hands. It had been going pretty well when we had a conversation on my birthday – now I just sort of feel like a jerk.

Don’t get me wrong, I had a great birthday. C took me out for this gorgeous dinner and afterwards we went down to our favorite tea shop and I got a birthday bubble tea. I wore thigh-high stockings and was having a fun time letting him peek at the tops of them by sliding up the hem of my skirt. On the way home I playfully reminded him that I expected a birthday spanking. He made a little face before smiling and saying “okay”.

I would say that it was a mistake to have prodded him, but I’m glad that we had the conversation, even though I was disappointed in what I found out. All of these details come tumbling out about how he really doesn’t like being rough with me, it does nothing for him sexually, and he is uncomfortable with it in anything except the smallest doses. Here we’ve been for months and I’ve been convinced he is getting more comfortable with things when actually he is barely keeping up with me. The conversation ended with him saying that he would just have to get used to the idea of someone else dominating me. I felt like a complete monster – as if I had been forcing this person I love to do something against his nature.

But C is so wonderful, he detected that I was upset and didn’t let it put a damper on the evening. When we got home he took my hand and led me to the bedroom. He very slowly began kissing me and undressing me as I stood before him, I left my hands at my sides and closed my eyes while he caressed and teased me for ages. He layed me down in the bed and continued to make me squirm. He began working his lips down my body and teasing my pussy. His mouth is so wonderful and he has this charming habit where he usually doesn’t let me come just once. However, on this occasion he gave me a big surprise. After my first orgasm he lifted his head, sat up and motioned for me to lay down across his knees – when I balked and protested that he didn’t really want to he shushed me and insisted that I had to have my birthday spanking, one for each year.

He didn’t go easy on me either, the first strike startled me with its force and made me squeel. I immediately felt my pussy get wetter and ground against his knee. Somewhere along the way I lost control of myself, the sensations were so wonderful and his hand felt so strong alternately smacking and kneeding my ass. It ended too quickly but I was grateful as I was insane with desire and wanted nothing more than to feel his hard cock inside me finally. As I scrambled onto my feet and pushed him on his back, he smiled at me and said, “I do like watching your ass wiggling in my lap – I think I can do that every once and awhile.” I just smiled and kissed him as I positioned myself over his cock.

Here is a confession.

I don’t have sensitive nipples. I spent the first year that I was sexually active pretending that I did, though. I thought there was perhaps something wrong with them or that maybe I was feeling all there was to feel. I did a lot of exaggerated moaning and groaning when my boyfriend would suck on them. Meanwhile, I could barely feel a thing. I didn’t understand all of the hype.

I have heard rumors that women with larger breasts sometimes don’t have very sensitive nipples. I can’t find anything to corroborate this one way or another. Nonetheless, when I am turned on, they are basically numb to any sort of gentle stimulation.

I finally admit this to my boyfriend and he has adjusted his technique a bit. He still sucks on my nipples sometimes because he likes to (and hey, it isn’t as if I dislike it). And he also began doing something completely delicious. He licks and kisses for ages right at the crease of my breasts where they meet my chest. Everything that I imagined was supposed to happen when someone licks your nipples happens when he does that. Shivers run through my whole body and I find myself begging him for more.

However, I’ve more recently realized that there is pleasure to be had from my nipples. It all started when I began having phone sex with A. For me, gently sucks and nibbles don’t do much but hard pulling and twisting turn out to be remarkably effective. If it weren’t for A ordering me to pinch my nipples until I was whimpering in pain and pleasure I might never have discovered how much joy I could get from treating them roughly. A side effect of this is that I have also become very responsive to the word “harder” as he often growls it out me when he wants me to step up the intensity of the squeezing. The timbre of his voice at those moments is so incredibly intense that I really can’t think about disobeying.

As a result of these exchanges, I brought the new discovery to my boyfriend. He now enjoys pinching, twisting, and biting my nipples in addition to his previous repetoire. One of these days I’ll even get him to admit that he is becoming a bit of a breast man.

Photograph of and by the sexy and talented MENSAsexual. This is the second in my series on past and present phone sex partners. I started here and am working my way backwards from the most recent.

E found me on Alt.com, since then I’ve given up on that site but I consider him to be a good find. I was immediately attracted to E for two reasons; he was very polite and incredibly honest. He told me immediately that he had a girlfriend and didn’t want to cheat on her but was sexually unfulfilled. I still consider myself a beginner with D/s but E was a complete novice. All he knew was that the had a deep fantasy of submitting to a woman and being used as a tool of her pleasure – something that his girlfriend would never do.

The first night that E and I met we ended up on the phone and talked literally all night. We spoke about sex but a lot of our conversation was just about books, philosophy, politics. We clicked and became fast friends. He also asked me to order him around on the phone that night. I’m certainly not an expert but I managed to please him. My favorite trick is orgasm denial and he responded to that quite nicely. I remember being in awe of his excitement. In turn he was completely in awe of me. E was the first submissive man I ever really got to know and playing with him on the phone was both frightening and empowering at once.

E and I actually ended up going on a sort of date a few days later. We met at a jazz bar down the street from my house and sat together for hours talking. Meeting E was the first time that I projected my sexually confident self into the real world. Here I was at a bar that all of my professors frequent, sitting with a man who reads this blog and desperately wants me to tie him up and do nasty things to him. It was a head rush to say the least and the chemistry between E and I was marked. By the end of the evening we were quite close together on the couch and my leg was touching his. The only thing I could focus on in that moment was the inch of our flesh that was in contact – this small thing rendered me conversationally useless.

E didn’t kiss me that night. Instead we both went our separate ways and when we were safely miles apart in our own homes he confessed how much he had wanted me but couldn’t cheat on his girlfriend, knowing it was the wrong thing to do. His ethics just made me want him more but I obviously respected his wishes. E and I spoke on the phone one more time after that. He loved the way I sound when I orgasm and heaped glowing praise upon me for it. He confessed how desperately tempted he was to cheat on his girlfriend and I reminded him that I only wanted to kiss him.

In the end, the temptation made him realize he had to reconcile his relationship. E spoke with his girlfriend and they happily decided to try to mend their relationship. I was happy for him of course but admittedly a bit disappointed. E was delicious to listen to and incredibly tempting not to mention the first guy that my boyfriend had declared he was willing to meet and consider me sleeping with.

I know for a fact that had I kissed E that night at the bar, he would have kissed back. Do I regret not going for it? That is a difficult question in many ways – I think I would have had immense guilt for putting him in that situation. But I would be a liar to say that I don’t still wonder what his lips taste like.