(Spoiler alert, the following contains no sexual activity and limited use of the word “fuck” and talks, yet again, about these two married men, who just happen to have two body parts that match nicely)
It’s about 9:00 on a Friday night and I am sitting in a first class seat with my fancy new iPad pondering. Despite the fact that I inevitably always sit next to the one person who chooses to use their light, I have always found night flights to be peaceful, almost relaxing places to be. Of course, that might also be the two drinks I have had and the third on the way, but I digress.
Anyway, I was sitting here and decided to read back through some of my initial posts and Thumper’s about “the day” and I got all sticky and gooey again, in both my mental and nether regions, kinda-sorta. Actually, it’s funny because last week he and I both posted about the “relationship agreement” and the “relationship evolution” and the dynamic of how things had “changed”, and how we were happy about it, even though the D/s aspect was going to shift more toward when we are physically together versus trying to carry it through, full time, often thousands of miles apart, and all that other jazz that comes with the long distance control. Though I still contend that option can work in the right situations, our careers, families, and, oh yeah, dominant spouses tend to limit our bandwidth for something as strict as that and, as a side note, both of our moods seemed elevated this week and seemed to shine through to the surface more than we cared to admit. I attribute this to last week’s talk and the lack of the cloud of expectation hanging over each of our heads.
Going back and looking at T’s posts about meeting me and mine about the first time I met him (Thump, link those here?), I had to laugh because, when you read those now, our “grand evolution” last week was really just a big giant three week journey in a circle or, perhaps a figure eight at a minimum, because, without intentionally realizing it, our new “evolution” went right back to the very first posts each of us listed right here within our virtual, public memory books.
You know, those were THE posts. The ones that specifically said we were to be more than fuck buddies because we each liked, wanted and expected at least a few strings and while we would be close, we’d never be romantic; the ones that said that establishing and maintaining a friendship would be paramount; the ones that said that our spouses would ALWAYS come first and the ones that said that when we were together, I was going to own his ass and do some severe things to it if he was out of line or just for my amusement.
You know, just like two friends who play golf every Saturday – except for that spouses come first thing, right?
So, tonight, prior to me going back to read these postings, he and I robo-chatted about how we both felt about the first week of the “new agreement”. This was not a planned topic and was not a great chat or a fluid one, because the timing of the day meant that our only connection point was when I was breaking the law by not using airplane mode on my iPhone until 10,000 feet, followed by a video message to me from him when I landed, which was then followed by me, in an attempt to use what I thought was my only 27 seconds of wifi for hours, writing 17,014 words into our messaging app in what must have read like an epileptic fit to him as I responded to the above items. It was a fucking cluster fuck of a conversation; however, like even our most raw ones from the previous weeks, it was fun, informational, and included the words baseball and pussy at least three times each. It wasn’t an ideal time, but in life, when is it, so we took it, used it, and followed our mutual rule about honest communication being key.
Going back through the transcripts of this broken chat later, the words actually agree that that it wasn’t bad at all. In fact, it was good and we each enjoyed our new levels of casualness while still knowing that we will and are planning way more fun times in person when that collar is not only going to snap shut, it’s going to lock.
All that plain ole vanilla aside, I did throw some sub challenges and goals at him this week and will continue to do so as we have agreed; however these will be based on real life calendars as we will do our best to enhance each other’s existence, not hamper it. Since I said that, I need to also say that being the good DILFY rabbit he is, Thumper met (and over achieved) all but one thing on his shortened list.
So, the moral of this story, for those interested, is that we are plugging along just fine (pun intended) and have realized that both of us being autodidacts when it comes to almost all every area of this new friendship that’s more than just a friendship yet really is all based on a core level of friendship which is then all wrapped in BDSM goodness, might just truly be our own theory of evolution.