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Loveless Warrior

27 Jul 2017, Posted by Aria Austin in Aria's Blog
ropes

“If you feel like having your hands at my throat again sometime, I’d love it.”ropes

I sent a friend request to a young guy from the temple night event and then followed it up with that message.

He arrived with a kit bag.

There was rope.

(Note: It was last year that I had this experience. It’s so interesting to notice how much I’ve changed in that time. These days I’d be much less inclined to jump into something so intimate with a 20 something year old. No matter how bold and impressive his skills. I’m so much more discerning around people’s capacity for love now).

 

But oh my goodness!

This guy had the moves. Not that he launched into that right away. First he sat me down (in my own home) and questioned me left, right and centre. He wanted to know who I am, what I do and why I wanted to connect with him. Not in the usual conversational way but more in an interrogation to the depths of my soul kind of way. I’ve never experienced a man do this sort of sexual due diligence. He was warrior like in his attention to clarifying details. He certainly shook me up a bit. I’m much more used to having the upper hand. But he could see into me in a similar way that I’m used to seeing into people. It was both alarmingly unsettling and deeply reassuring at the same time. Cleverly penetrating.

Disrupt and hold.

Disturb and settle.

Dig and support.

I made it through his hoops and we moved to the bedroom.

Now my usual way of getting to know someone in a situation like this is to connect in an embrace and see what kind of energy arises out of the connection. What do I activate in him, what does he activate in me and what does that entity of shared activation look like, act like, feel like, move like?
But instead he reached into his kit bag and asked me if I wanted to be tied up.

Push and catch.

Well yes. Yes, I do.

I’ve been professionally tied up once before and I was really surprised by the deep state of relaxation it ushered me into afterwards. I can be prone to giving too much to others and also to staying in control so I’d often entertained the idea of being tied up again to help remedy those tendencies.

So yes, tie away!

I surrendered pretty easily to just about everything he did. At first contact he put the rope around my neck and told me to say stop when it got too tight. I revelled in testing my limit (and showing off if I’m honest) as the rope cinched tighter and tighter and I felt the blood to my brain put on hold. Then I felt my face flushed bright red as soon as I gave the word for him to release me.

He bound my arms behind me, secured my torso, pushed me forward on the bed and spanked me. Always asking permission for everything beforehand. Everything I said yes to. But then he asked if he could penetrate me. I said it wasn’t a no but it wasn’t a yes either. I wanted it to be a yes but it wasn’t. So by default that kind of uncertainty is a no.

It wasn’t until afterwards when we were lying together talking everything through that it became clearer to me. I couldn’t feel his heart, his love. He was asking me if I was comfortable with him using the word ‘fuck’. I said I was fine with that so long as it wasn’t the only word. If he’s going to fuck me then he has to be capable of making love to me as well. There has to be scope.

A chink in the warriors armour had emerged.

Of course it should have been obvious to me when we’d had the earlier conversation about boundaries. I’d said I had no boundaries at the outset. I made it clear that they may well emerge of course, as a result of the interaction as it unfolded and that I’d share if that occurred, but there was nothing that was off limits right up front. He had only one boundary.

Kissing on the lips.

Jesus Christ!

My body contracted ever so slightly and I went a little bit cold all over. I asked him for a moment so that I could have some space to feel what was happening to me. I started crying. I expressed how his boundary felt like such a nasty slap in the face in the midst of me volunteering so much of myself. He held me as I cried and then the emotion passed and we carried on.

Afterwards we talked a bit about his fears of opening his heart and trusting others with it. We’d both shared our intentions at the outset for why we wanted to explore sexually with each other. I had three but the biggest overarching intention was (and always is for me), to find God. I see sexual exploration as a potent path to the Divine. And the heart simply must be on board in order for that journey to get any traction.

So I felt like we could have been a nice fit, this young guy and I. He and his dark sexual desire and me and my big loving heart. I think the blending could have worked some wild alchemy for both of us.
But I didn’t get a strong sense that he’d return. I asked if I could deliver an experience to him next time. I’m imagined a lush erotic massage to soften his guarded heart via extended orgasmic delirium. But it might take some time yet before this warrior is willing to yield to love.