I started dating J four years ago this past April (that makes me feel old). It was a culmination of nearly an entire year of me trying to get him to date me, but that's not the story I'm going to tell today.
Right after we started dating, and I'd given out my first blowjob ever, we were cuddling on my dorm bed, staring up at the Christmas lights I'd strung from the ceiling.
"Are you a virgin?" he asks.
Given that this was my first serious actual relationship, I wasn't sure how to answer. Sure, I knew I should be honest, but I wasn't sure how he would take it. I had a feeling it would be okay, but give me a break, I was 19 and nervous.
"For now, yeah."
He seemed to consider this. It was mildly reassuring to me that I was not immediately dismissed out of hand.
"Planning on changing that anytime soon?"
That really didn't surprise me. I knew he'd slept with his ex, and that he'd very much like to have sex with me. But giving my rearing, I was still very unsure of the entire "sex before marriage" deal. On the other hand...
And it was okay. I wasn't pressured at all. It was cute, really.
Over the summer, I had decided that I was going to have sex with him anyway. I informed him of that choice in September. Oddly enough, he was more upset that I'd said yes. He was worried that I had felt pressured (which was about as far from the truth as Singapore is from here), and didn't really want to, but only wanted to to make him happy. That sweetness and concern for me was one of the many things giving me sharp shoves over the edge.
Yes, I wanted to make him happy, but I had the time to think through it, and decided that I wanted to go through with it for reasons besides that. I was curious, I knew he'd treat me right regardless of whether I fucked him or not, and I had a strong hunch I was going to be with him for a while anyway.
About a month later, we'd had a fight. I don't remember what it was about; I just remember that I was angry and hurt over something - probably him not calling, that was the problem du jour back then - and had expressed that in very clear terms. He wound up sending me flowers. God I miss that! For those of you curious, yes, I do have enough of a romantic streak in me that I dried the bouquet. It's currently hanging from my ceiling. It's one of the many reminders I have that this boy and I are stupid over each other.
We were talking on the phone, and were going through the kiss-and-make-up stage planning. I'd had an idea I wanted to try for a while, but I wasn't sure how to broach the subject. I wanted him to tie me to the bed, and then have sex with me. I wasn't sure what it was called - well, I knew the term "bondage", but hadn't done a whole lot of reading about the subject, and certainly wasn't familiar with terms like "submissive". I just knew that I'd thought about it, and I really liked the idea of having him tie me up and ravish me.
The conversation worked around to how we should have make-up sex, and I decided that I'd just take the plunge. Being honest had worked before, so why not try it again? I mentioned that I had something to ask him.
"Maybe when we have make-up sex, you could... maybe tie me up to the bed and then have sex with me? You know, if you want to, and if you don't, it's not a big deal, it's just an idea."
Ohshitohshitohshitohshit, I thought. Now I've freaked his shit out and he's going to break up with me and he hates me and I'm way too weird for him and he hates me and he's going to tell everyone what a freak I am and-
"Yeah that sounds like a good idea."
I found out later that he was quiet only because he couldn't believe that I had asked him for that - mostly because he was interested in that as well, and couldn't figure out how to bring up the subject. He was a lot happier about it than I realized at the time.
Four and a half years later, it's gone a lot beyond "Do you think maybe you could tie me up to the bed?" We're not using clothesline anymore. We've got a lot of rope, and lots of other toys - two whole full drawers with, with the rope housed separately. We've found a lot more things that we like to do together beyond just tying me to the bed. And I've learned to be a lot less fearful of telling him what I'd like - not that I don't have plenty more fear to work through!
Just about every day, I'm glad that I got brave enough to ask for that. Sure, at one point one of us would have brought it up, I'm sure, given that we were both interested in activities of that nature. But I'm glad I brought it up when I wanted it. It reassured my fears about my suitability for him - and his for me. It showed me that he was going to be a lot harder to scare off than just about any other guy I'd met.
And it was really goddamned awesome make-up sex.