Once again beaten

The intersection of feminism and kink has come up a lot this past week in the blogosphere - at least the parts I frequent - and naturally, someone has already posted and included a lot of the thoughts I have.

Not all of them, but a lot of them.

Anyway, I highly recommend that y'all read this over at Sugarbutch.

Blah.

I'm not sure when it got to be 2 am, and how it got to be 2 am without my getting done much of anything I wanted to.  The lights still aren't on the Christmas tree, laundry is still unfinished, the new computer still isn't set up... but hey, I tagged a whole bunch of posts and read a whole lot of crap on the internet!

*sigh*

I also have like, no Christmas presents bought for anyone - for most people, I have ZERO IDEA what I'm going to get them.  My house is a mess and I'm having people over in early January, I don't know what I'm going to bake, this coming week at work is going to be insane...

Eh.  Whatever.  I think I'm going to go to bed.

Bitten

The first clue I had that perhaps my attaction to Hal was not entirely of the platonic sort was when he mentioned his fangs.

I have a very sensitive neck, and sensitive ears as well.  Jay has made me squirm and shriek just by coming near them, and a breath across the right patch of skin raises goosebumps down the entire corresponding side of my body, something which Jay finds endlessly entertaining.  I'm rather protective of these areas, as goosebumps are not my idea of fun very often.

Perhaps that's why I like to be bitten - having my ears gently gnawed, or my neck tenderly nibbled - or not so tenderly - is quite arousing for me.  Having other parts bitten is enjoyable as well, but the sensitivity of the skin on my neck and ears adds something to the deal.  Having my neck bitten makes my eyes roll back in my head as my entire body shudders in pleasure, my breath coming hot and heavy.

When I first met Hal, we immediately clicked.  You know how it is with some people, where you know immediately upon meeting them that they are absolutely supposed to be a part of your life and there was a part of you just waiting for them to show up?  That kind of click.  If it weren't for the circumstances under which I met him, which prohibit our having anything other than a professional relationship right now, he'd immediately have taken his place as one of my best friends ever.  He'd be the kind of friend to spend the night at the bar with me, take in a Sox game, just hang out and play video games, and have geeky, intense, ridiculous conversations with late at night.  He would be, as I told him, one of "the posse".

We discovered early on that we're geeky in so many similar ways, although he has an unfortunate preference for Spider-Man rather than Batman.  We discussed games, and more comics, etc. and so on and were talking more about our personal lives when he mentioned the pair of fangs he owns.

My fevered little brain immediately granted me the image and sensation of him using those fangs on my neck.

Up until that moment, I would have sworn - in fact, did, to Vinnie - that everything was strictly platonic.  I was mostly kidding myself, I think; most of our conversations consisted of the sort of flirting one sees in the "I make fun of you because I like you" stage, although I really was somewhat convinced that it didn't mean anything other than two friends good-naturedly ragging on each other.  Clearly, my body and mind had other ideas, as they have frequently told me since.

Everyone loves mail, part II

Arriving in the mail today, courtesy of my credit card and the fine folks at Blowfish:

• A miniature "I Rub My Fishie" - did y'all know that it comes with its own shower shelf?  It totally does.  I think it's going to live in our shower (ps living by ourselves is AWESOME)
• A Feeldoe

Oh yes, a Feeldoe.  Did I mention that we're both switches?  Mwahahahah.

As for the previous mail, we did in fact try out the new clamps on Monday night.  I was sitting on the couch wasting time and half-watching the football game (serious Patriots, that was not your best outing) when Jay walks in with the new clamps delicately jingling in his hand and says "Take off your shirt."

Oh.  Well then.

I give him a conflicted look and took it off, then asked him why he said I should take it off.

"Because they you can take off your bra."

Oh.

The bra comes off and Jay moves over by me to put on the clamps.  The good news:  the clamps are adjustable and since this week is apparently "Pain is GREAT" week for my nipples, they felt fantastic.  The bad news is that my nipples are bigger than I thought (and I will swear that they're bigger than they used to be) and so the clamps don't really fit on them.  I stood up and they both promptly fell off.

Not to be deterred, Jay shooed me in to the bedroom and bid me remove the rest of my clothing, whereupon he clipped them to my labia, where they could again delicately jingle.  They still felt really good (like, really good; it's just apparently "Pain is GREAT" week for all of my body) but the jingling kind of broke my head.  Every time I breathed there would be this gentle chiming from the rings as they swayed and hit each other, and I found it juuust a bit disconcerting.

My head got broken even worse when he clipped the rings together.  Oh goody, just what a sadist always wanted, a fucking handle.  And yes, I do mean that in both senses.