Libation

Before I start, I feel the need to put a disclaimer here; God forbid someone curious about "the lifestyle" finds this and completely misinterprets it:

Mind-altering substances, including marijuana and alcohol, are bad, bad, BAD fucking mixers to use with BDSM play - especially toys and bondage.

And now that we're done, it's time to get moving.

I found out Friday on my way home from work that some friends of the house denizens were having a party on Saturday. Apparently these people "didn't have my email address" - which I don't believe for a second - but V and J both got invites, and that means that I'm invited too.

I haven't been to a party in, oh, six months. I was long overdue, and since I didn't have to work that night, or for almost 24 hours post-party, I did that shit up.

It was good to reconnect with some old acquaintances and friends, as well as to drink copious amounts of American Piss Beer (tm) from the provided keg. There were drinking games and Texas Hold-em to be had. Oddly enough, before this, I had not known how to play that particular form of poker, but after learning it, myself and the MRA House inhabitants were inspired to hold a "casino night" in early January of next year. Regardless.

Managed to get myself happy-intoxicated - where the world is fine, everything is funny, and I don't have nearly as many inhibitions as I probably should. Given that I've been feeling horny lately anyway, that definitely spelled "J and french jumping into bed as soon as they get home."

Remember that bit I mentioned earlier about my inhibitions? Yeah, those were gone. We were naked before I knew it, and instead of keeping things in my head like I usually do, I talked. I talked a lot. I talked dirty. J and I had a lovely, lovely slightly drunken discussion about how I was in fact a slut, but not only that, His slut, and how it was His cunt, and how not only did I enjoy that, He enjoyed it. That was reassuring, at the least, but it was also a huge turn-on. Insecurity occasionally plagues me, especially in the realm of kink. I'm still worried - after five years! - that one of these days my kink will go too far, and I'll freak J's shit out.

This though, was a major hurdle. That little bit of humiliation is part of a fantasy set I've entertained for years. This was really the most I've ever let it out, and I cannot help but be overjoyed that I did. It was unspeakably fabulous - not to mention deliciously arousing - to hear J refer to me the way I've been hearing him refer to me in my head for a few years now.

Better yet, after we slept, we woke up and continued where we left off. Both of us entirely sober, and J initiated by whispering into my ear "Wake up, slut." After that, there was no possible way I was going to resist. I was also inordinately, perhaps selfishly pleased, that J remembered that if I'm begging to be allowed an orgasm, it's not always the best idea to give me one right away. Orgasm denial goes right in hand with that humiliation fantasy, and combined? Let's just say that I'm really glad we don't currently have a headboard attached to our bed frame, because that way the walls don't get damaged.

I'm proud of myself, and I think justifiably so, for sharing this part of my innner fantasy & kink-life with J. Would I have been able to do it completely, stone-cold sober? I like to think so, although I probably would have taken a long, long time to work up to it, insecure as I am.

Now that I have though, I think it's time to seduce J away from the ballgame.