Sunday, July 5, 2015

A Thousand Miles

I fell in love with the mind long before the man. I was a teenager then, writing amongst other avid readers who had no idea how old I was. If they had, they wouldn't have consented to write with me at all. I didn't write sex at the time, but it was a sexually charged universe within which we were writing. Literary fucking was a common enough occurrence within our intertwining story lines that many were afraid to write with those under 18.

Artwork from Laurell K. Hamilton's
Anita Blake graphic novels. This was
the first universe in which we wrote
I say I was 17 when I first started writing with him. I could have been 16. I wasn't aware of him as the voice behind his characters until the age of 17, but chances are we might have crossed paths wearing other faces before that. I remember being intimidated by the characters he wrote. His words flowed with such beauty and mastery, mine felt almost inadequate in comparison. I was drawn to him, even then, our characters' interactions bordering on the erotic if never quite making it there.

Even when he was playing a bisexual masochist who was traditionally submissive in the source material from which our writings were drawn, he still radiated dominance. All of his characters were remarkably confident, a reflection of the man himself. When I began speaking to him privately out of character, I found him just as fascinating as the characters he portrayed. I looked forward to his messages with an almost disturbing amount of anticipation. Our conversations weren't anything but platonic then, aside from him being a shameless flirt, but he was just that engaging. I was always a little sad when he had to go back to his life outside of that little Yahoo messaging window.

I think it was my first year of college, when I began first truly exploring my interest in BDSM that we became much closer. He became my first mentor, I suppose. My human kink dictionary. I remember asking him questions about various terms and activities, discussing the budding dynamics I found myself dabbling in. If I had listened to him more then, I imagine my experience would have been vastly different. Perhaps I wouldn't have had such negative first experiences. I remember him constantly disparaging my first dom when I'd tell him about things that had happened between us.

He'd known he was a dud long before I did and he'd never met the man.

Conair Pulse Personal Massager
on Amazon
It's funny to me now how integral he was to my sexual awakening. I bought my first sex toy at his suggestion. One of those vibrating cock rings, and shortly thereafter a personal massager. Still a virgin at the time, I wasn't about to get more ambitious than that. I was nervous enough, smuggling the box through the store, hidden awkwardly under my arm, thanking God and all His angels that the WalMart in my college town had self-checkouts.

He was older, unavailable, immensely experienced, and primarily poly, but the connection was still there.  He would have happily gone into more sexual territory, although he said he didn't do virgins. He's...ahem...too well-endowed. He would joke that I needed to go rid myself of that particular status before he could have me. I often jokingly asked if he had a younger single brother who was much like him.

Somewhere in the middle of my relationship with my first dom was the closest we got to writing a sex scene between a couple of our characters, but before that happened, he fell off the face of the earth.

For more than a year, he was silent. My first relationship crashed and burned. I explored with a group of friends I'd known in high school. I had a brief flash of stupidity for a couple months where I allowed a guy to pull the wool over my eyes. My kink history is fraught with dumb.

Then in November, he appeared again, briefly. I had missed him. He was never mine, but I missed talking to him. Missed the awkward phone calls and companionable chats. I hoped he would come back again.

One of the first pictures he ever
sent me, long before I knew his
real name. 
March and April rolled around and he was suddenly back online. I regaled him with my misadventures and discovered his own. He was all of a sudden single, no longer the master of a stable of play partners. Just him.

But, he was too old, too poly, too damned far away.

I said I would never do long distance. It just didn't sound satisfying. But I was okay with the idea of a long distance play partner. A way to scratch an itch I wasn't getting anywhere else. I called him sir then. It was a game, intended to be temporary, a bit of fun before the real relationship came along. He was even going to come through on a road trip and show me was good sex was like.

But it had morphed quickly into something else. Despite his incompatibility with at least half of my deal breakers, I responded to him in a way I had never done with anyone else, online or in person. I realized that he was the only human being on the planet I'd never had a fight with. I resented him for making me love him when I couldn't have him.

Very soon after that point, a decision was made. Sir became Master and that visit was to be the preamble to relocation.

But it never happened. Work got in the way, but there was a promise of early next year. Then injury got in the way, and another year passed. A year of learning more about each other. A year of sexual exploration through writing, because that is our expression, where all fantasies are possible.

The first Christmas present I sent.
Hand painted by me.
However, the slow buildup of frustration was inevitable. Two years have come and gone and I am still finding myself in a cubicle five days a week...just waiting. Waiting for life to finally start. Waiting to fulfill all the fantasies we have been creating for the past two years. $1700 hid away in a safe a year ago, waiting for the moment to cross that thousand miles to fall down at his door.

So, I have made a decision. I am done waiting. He can't seem to come to me. So, in October, I am hopping on a plane for the second time in my life, the first time alone, to where he lives. A few days only, but hopefully the beginning.

The catalyst for crawling out of this Limbo. 


  1. I'm so excited for you...and nervous, lol

  2. I'm curious to see what happens next.....

    1. Unfortunately, my adventuring has been postponed for a few more months due to his pending back surgery and I am sad.