It was a good fuck.
Earlier this week, in a hotel suite with a great bathtub, incredible lighting, and a giant TV, Thump and I got together and, well, got together. It was a penetrating moment of raw energy without raw emotion and we were able to take what it is we have to that new, neutral place we have designed where we drew the line between friendship and service – when naked. As he left to take the walk of shame to the parking garage – a move we each actually find empowering – I went back to work happy, relaxed, and dying to get home to Axel as any encounter with my other absolutely always makes me want my primary so so much more.
Though I am not one to write in too much detail about our physical activities, I will say that the last few months of my mental unrest seemed to channel itself directly to those masochistic places on and in him where I knew I could cause so much hurt with so little actual harm.
He hurt for me that day and I let him.
He hurt for me that day and I enjoyed it.
He hurt for me that day and I thrived on it.
He likes the way I hurt him and I like that.
For me, the newness of being able to put the friendship on the elegant hotel shelf and enjoy those seven hours (okay, two) was something I realized I had actually never allowed myself to completely experience in the past and Thump’s words a few weeks ago about me “being too nice” suddenly made absolute and complete sense. I think I had always thought that meant I had to be an ass while I used his, but in reality, that is not the case and the ability to separate the action of the moment from all the other implications of life was almost intoxicating for me because, well, in 45 years I am not sure I remember being able to do that more than a handful of times.
I think that, in reality, this is the key thought that is one day going to be what will allow me to finally enjoy and act on my switch side in a way where I have never been able to make that separation complete. However, that is likely the subject of another long, drawn out post so I will leave it at that and just tell you that I have, indeed, finally recognized a missing link into me, which is what this entire blogging experience has really been about the whole time anyway.
So, armed with this new knowledge, I am signing off to enjoy my 27 hours at home this weekend as it is a beautiful day in the neighborhood and Drew wants to go outside and play (though that really means mulch, weed, wash two cars, etc).