Tag Archives: play time

Ace in the Hole

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I’m sure this will surprise most of you.

There was a time, long ago and far away, when I was an innocent virgin girl.

Okay, it was LONG ago and far away, but it was indeed a thing. I was a virgin until seventeen. At sixteen, I was restless. My libido was in full swing and I rarely slept before two or three a.m. during the summer months (…that hasn’t changed much). So, being a restless 90’s child, I would go onto one of the few forms of electronic entertainment that I had that wouldn’t cause a lot of noise. I went on to online chat rooms, back in the day when most internet people were catfish and it was still much more of a dangerous place.

On one of those restless nights, I got lucky. I met a twenty-one year old from North Dakota. He and I stayed up until the wee hours of the morning. He told me of his visits to Rome and Helsinki, far away exotic places that I had very little concept of back then. My world was a cage, trapped in a small town in New Jersey, and here was a handsome man offering me a window into another world. We would talk for hours, on and on for week, and my poor little heart didn’t stand a chance. I fell. Hook. Line. Sinker. I fell for him.

Of course, it was an abstract sort of first love. There was the reality that I was a poor sixteen year old and North Dakota was far away. Visiting was an impossible idea at the time, and so I let myself love him. Because I knew I could never have him.

Time passed. Years went by. I remember the sadness that struck when Ace told me he was engaged to a local girl a couple of years later, not much older than myself. At the time I was very much monogamous, and knew that in that world marriage meant there really was no room for my little fantasy. He was lost. Someone else had won him. In the early days of his marriage we didn’t talk much, as life got in the way…but through time, from time to time, my phone would buzz and there would be a text from Ace. We would pick up right where we left off, talking about everything and nothing.

During all this my world was broadening. He was still in North Dakota, but I was in Boston for school. He would call me while running errands for his brothers or on nights alone while his wife was out and we would talk into the wee hours of the morning as we once had. Gradually Skype became a more normalized thing and we saw each other’s faces… and other things sometimes. There was always a flirty energy between us…and often that would cause blocks of silence where we couldn’t talk to one another. Feelings would rear ugly heads and we just…couldn’t. But we never fully left each other’s lives. I would watch his posts. He would watch mine. We always found one another again and continued to talk.

It’s been almost ten years since he and I first began to talk. In that time I’ve had my series of relationships, including a short engagement, and moved from New Jersey to Boston to San Francisco. He picked up and went from North Dakota to North Carolina with his wife and child, and gradually began his own discovery of kink and polyamory. The stars began to align where we were once again on the same wave length as we had been a world ago. We were both poly, and kinky, and for the first time ever I had his partner’s blessing to pursue some sort of..thing with him. But. I don’t do distance anymore. It’s just too hard, and so Ace remained a relatively abstract concept.

Sometimes I make very poor, masochistic choices for the right reasons. One of those was deciding that I was going to find a way to finally, FINALLY see Ace after Fusion this year (I promise there will be a Fusion entry as well. There’s a draft, I swear). Him being an eight hour drive from the campground was the closest we had ever been to one another. He was separated from his now-ex wife, and his adorable kiddo was with grandparents for the summer… We made a date. He got off from work and I drove as fast I could after camp to make something that had been abstract for so long a reality.

Driving through con drop is not one of my brighter ideas. I was wrecked, dealing with mundane blowups (June is trying to kill me…more on that later), and frantically calling my roommate during anxiety attacks to help remind me where the break was on the car when I got out of control at one point. I was exhausted, functioning on almost no sleep, and fucking determined.

The first time I saw him, he had his back to me. He was watching TV. I let myself stand there for a moment and just take in the sight of flesh-and-blood Ace. The summer night was perfectly warm. There were lightning bugs dancing in front of his window. The air was just the slightest bit muggy. It was… surreal. It was happening. He was real.

I knocked on the door and was in his arms before I knew it, and then REALLY in his arms as he picked me up, excited. “You’re here! You’re really here! You’re real!” he said over, and over, and over, putting words to what I was thinking. He smelled surprisingly familiar, right, easy, and I quickly felt at ease in his arms. And then he kissed me…and as far as first kisses go… Whelp. Remember the ending to Princess Bride?

I am a lucky. Fucking. Bitch.

After ten years I was so afraid there would be no chemistry. Which. Would be fine. We had been forced to be platonic before. I could do it. In fact, the opposite was the case. The top had been let off of ten years of sexual tension and we couldn’t keep our hands off of each other. He gave me the tour of his apartment and I found myself craving contact with him. A hand on my hip, or in my hair, or on my ass..just to remind me that this was real. That he was real. That we were actually seeing each other.

It still feels like a dream.

I was the bad one that started stripping first. He pinned me to the ground, eagerly grinding against my ass before flipping me over and diving between my legs. I have never been so eagerly eaten out in my LIFE. I don’t like it typically. I’m an internal girl. But my Ace’s tongue is incredibly skilled. K was screaming his name and bucking under him in a matter of minutes. 

There was groping, and playing, and flirting before we stumbled our way to the bedroom, both of us refusing to fully take our hands off of one another. Pardon my gloating, but my godde that boy has one of the prettiest cocks I have ever seen. He is thick enough and long enough that he’s a challenge for me to take… but not so big that I can’t deep throat him. 

I hoped we would have chemistry. I didn’t expect mind-blowing sex. Again. And again. And again. We took a break for food and to sleep, but I can’t think of a point when we weren’t touching somewhere. Hands. Overlapping legs. Me snuggling into the nook of his shoulder. Not even morning breath stopped the kisses. When we weren’t kissing or fucking we were talking, just as we did eons ago. He told me the intimate details of his world. I shared more of mine. 

There isn’t enough time. There never is. He took me to breakfast at an adorable coffee house. As we ate tasty treats he told me more about his amazing child and how much he loved his community. My heart twisted. I was so happy he had found home… And I selfishly wish I could take him to mine. He’s so far away. So. Damn far away. 

It’s been a long time since I have been around someone who’s a soothing balm to my soul… and that’s what Ace is. He pulled me out of an anxiety attack from outside stressors faster than anyone ever has. Being around him calms me down, just as James always has.. and yet he calms me in almost the exact opposite way of James. Instead of a man of few words my Ace is a wordsmith. A beautiful, wonderful wordsmith that showered me in compliments and kind words. 

There’s always been a switchy energy between us. Out of all my partners he is the one I have always felt the most equal too. We are both… fragile in certain ways. Both familiar with brain squirrels pertaining to matters of the heart. I am often pulled out of brain spirals through acts of submission. Focusing on the needs of others fixes my headspace. 

I didn’t know if it would be the same for Ace. He began to spiral at one point and I just… had to fix it. A part of me came out that I didn’t know existed. A Domme. Not a service top. I dominated that sweet boy. I crawled on top of him and rode him with no inhibitions, knowing he wanted me, knowing I drove him wild. The moment he drifted I had him focus on me.  I told him that all he had to worry about in that moment was pleasing me. 

He called me ma’am. For the first time ever that made my pussy wet. 

Yes, he was my sweet boy, and he let me fuck him at my leisure until I wanted him on top again. And then he pleased me with his cock, fucking me until we both toppled over that delicious edge. 

In about 24 hours we found that edge six times, sometimes with him as the dominant partner, sometimes me. After sex we would find equilibrium again snuggling in one another’s arms. I’ve never had such a fluid relationship before.  The switching happens naturally, with the top roll being filled easily in a split second by the proper partner. 

I’ve never wanted to be served before. Never desidered to collar a boy and have him sit at my feet as I socialize in Wicked Grounds. I am naturally very submissive… but also very protective. The desire to help the one I love won out, and even became extremely pleasurable. He is my boy. We belong to one another. 

And I am utterly fucked. 

I thought foolishly getting together after ten years would sate some urges. Instead it was like lighting a powder keg. A hunger that hadn’t existed before now eats at me. I want more of my Ace, both as my sweet boy and as my Top.

We have a lot of exploring to do, he and I. This is the tip of the iceberg with our dynamic, and I know that… Now we are learning how our lives can possibly fit together. He has a partner with a child, and a child of his own to worry about. I have three partners, a complication, and a community. We both have our homes. And there is that fear of once you leave the Bay Area you can’t return. Selfishly, I want him with me, in my world. I want to show of my boy at BaGG and the citadel. And yes, I want to sleep in his arms at night. 

I miss him horribly, and it’s only been a couple of days. Ten years, and it felt like coming home when I was with him. My mind is terrifying me. It’s thinking long term. And that scares me. I’m anxious to get my mark on him, to claim that part of him that submits as mine. And I am anxious for him to claim me again. 

I love you, my sweet boy. I’m.. scared, but excited for the journey ahead. All will work out when the time is right, just as it always has. I will see you in my dreams ❤

Yours hopelessly in love, and suddenly switchy,

-Rene 

 

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Two Worlds

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I have hit the sex wall.

I didn’t know that I HAD a sex wall

But good Godde almighty I’ve hit it.

I am horny every fucking second of the day right now… I am so tightly coiled, so tense, that I think my Dominant could just look at me and I would come on the spot. And it would do NOTHING because it’s not his hands on me. Kane sent me a photo today after he got to his destination..and he was so sexy, and scruffy, and my badass biker boyfriend…

And I orgasmed. From a photo. And there was clothing. Nothing was unclothed.

…although he was REALLY fucking sexy.

….I have slammed into the proverbial sex wall.

FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME FUCK ME AAUUGGHHH!

I love my parents, and my sisters, and my friends and my pets here…but I need to rejoin my life. It’s been too long. This is the LONGEST I have been out of San Francisco in a year. And the longer I stay, the more I see the separation between Rena of New Jersey and Rena of San Francisco.

Rena of New Jersey is a good girl. She does not say “fuck” in front of her dad (but in front of mom it’s okay because she curses like a sailor too) because cursing isn’t ladylike. Nothing she owns is see through or sexy, and it’s all about minimizing her size, because she is fat. She eats way too much and is not nearly active enough. She loves her pets, and leaves her bedroom door open at night so her dog can sleep at the foot of her bed even though there is a strict no pets in bedrooms rule. She has a super conservative older sister that is still a virgin and will not even acknowledge anal sex as being a thing. She has one sad little vibrator that she hides in her TV stand when she isn’t home, and will not use it when her parents are home. She sleeps in a tee shirt and undies minimum, and feels dirty looking at porn.

Rena of San Francisco is kinky as all hell. She wears see through clothing and has little issue showing off her body when the parts of her that are clothed are clothed well. She is sex-positive and open, with a chest of toys and outfit devoted to BDSM play and her sexual survival. Her bookshelves are full of kinky novels, and more than two days without sexual play results in a very horny submissive. Thankfully, she has a very horny Dominant whose sexual appetite matches hers. She takes care of her cat, and has extreme guilt about leaving him for more than a couple hours (no matter 18 days…18!). She works her ass off to make it on her own and keeps herself super busy, earning her play from a lot of work. She has no shame in saying that she goes to dungeons, and that she plays on crosses and loves the kiss of the flogger. She has no shame in saying that she is poly, that she has a primary and a secondary partner, and that poly keeps her sane and balanced. She has no shame about serving her Dominant, feeling feminine and empowered when in service to him, and more herself than any other time.

San Francisco Rena has very little shame, period. She is at peace with herself and who she is becoming. New Jersey Rena is a project on hold, something left behind because she just couldn’t develop anymore.

I am so much more my San Francisco self than I ever was my Jersey self.. and while I love all of my pets equally, the amount I love myself varies radically depending on what city I am in and what stigmas are being levied against me at that moment.

The longer the parts of me are repressed, the hornier and more sexually frustrated, and then ashamed, I become. It’s not a healthy cycle..and as much as I love being with my family I am learning a hard lesson with this visit.

I can’t be here this long without a partner… without play to remind me that it’s okay to be my San Francisco self. Kink is too much a part of my life. My submissive side is just too much a part of me.

I have to fight the urge to beg Kane for play when I know he’s busy and riding. But the riding on the big fancy motorcycle just adds to sexual fantasies which just makes me horny which just makes me more worked up and…

You’re seeing the vicious cycle right?????

I don’t want to wish the rest of this trip away. I don’t want to wish the last of Kane’s trip away… But at this point no amount of orgasms is releasing the tightness in my body. I can only fantasize so much.. I need at least a voice… a face on a screen watching as I perform… something..

Okay… this time next week I will be back in San Francisco with my cat… where I can at least regain certain parts of myself that I have to hide when I’m here.

I can make it. I can make it…

If you can hear screaming, that would be me.

HOW DO I MAKE THIS TIGHTNESS GO AWAY??? AUUUGGGHHHH!!!!

I want my Dom so bad T.T *sniffle*

Yours feeling pathetic,

-Rena