Thursday, June 14, 2007

Blushing, Fumbling, And Moaning Softly

Coyness is nice, and
Coyness can stop you
From saying all the things in life you'd like to
So, if there's something you'd like to try
If there's something you'd like to try
Ask me I won't say no, how could I?


- The Smiths
'Ask' (and yes, I do believe I've quoted this song before)

One of my favourite workshops of Betty was the ' I want to fuck like...' discussion. It started off with some of us writing down things we liked to do/wanted to do but were afraid to ask for and having someone else read it out (so it was anonymous), then some hypothetical 'A wants B to do X, what are some of the issues for both of them?' and that provoked some interesting points. But what made me wriggle with joy was when a rather sweet someone made the very valid point that asking for stuff can be plain embarrassing, even for people in queer communities where it is often impicitly implied that everyone should be so radical and cool and all down and funky with their sexual desires that

What she asked of me
At the end of the day
Caligula would have blushed

- The Smiths
'Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now'

And it can be embarrassing. I spent a good couple of days sniffing around the object of my blush and lust at Betty before I could make even the most subtle of moves. (Very few people believe me of course, 'you, Zoo, shy?'. Umm, yeah, to the point it is almost crippling sometimes. And the combination of having this reputation in some circles of being some untouchable scary super-slut and actually being utterly utterly scared to make a move on anyone that makes me wet means that I end up in the silly situation of neither being approached or able to approach. Stalemate. Arrrgh!) So... I circle about like a puppy looking for attention, then finally end up crashing out in bed next to said person, drinking vodka and cuddling and being too shy to even try for a kiss. Next day at Sweaty Betty pervy party manage somehow to end up with her in a darkroom, but we both take so much time about suggesting it that by the time we get there the place is closing in 15 minutes. Still, some nice fumbling and much longed-for mouth to mouth. Go on to a party, with more flirting and snogging about before suddenly she disappears with a friend of mine. Hmmm, can't be greedy I guess, and talent that should really be shared! Next evening we end up in a pub together, then due to some spectacular luck with closed nightclubs we end back at my lodgings drinking beer with another friend. Send friend home, suggest she comes into my boudoir and then finally after much lying there I ask 'so, what WERE you going to do to me in that darkroom if had more time?' and get an answer that makes me very happy. Especially when it so happens that she is willing to continue what we started. Now, moments like this can sometimes overwhelm Zoo, and I find myself going TOTALLY subby (yes, subby, who'd ever have thought it?) and unable to do much but lie there and hope to be slapped hard. Fortunately this 'tactic' worked none-too-badly in this instance, resulting in much hairpulling and pinning to bed, biting of tits and other bits and a total melting of Zoo into a speechless mess of moans and incoherent mumblings... In the morning I'm more blushing and shy than ever, something about the daylight that makes it harder to be quite so 'please Daddy, I want some more' but it starts again anyway, to my delirious delight. Much to my regret I can't find my toppy side anywhere, and so am typing this now wishing that I'd had the balls to make my fingers and mouth move where I wanted them to! No idea when I will see her again, what she thinks of the whole affair (if she thinks of it at all) or whether I have a hope in hell of getting to do the filthy things to her that I would like to, but in my mind (and elsewhere) I've got her thrown over the bed and am playing 'who's the Daddy now?'. I'm imagining her on her knees with her mouth around Sire (or perhaps something more manageable if I'm feeling benevolent) and me being the glove-puppeteer. Oh, and possibly drawing blood, in the nicest possible ways. Zoo does like blood, from split lips or brass knuckles or knives that miraculously appear from steel-capped boots.

I feel like I am regressing a little perhaps. Its strange, I used to be SO much more confident and assertive about such matters, was able to just grab my little red hanky from around my little left wrist, stuff it in the waiting mouth and grab the lube and gloves but now its so difficult for me to trust anyone enough to dare to even suggest it. Sire is more often used on me than by me, and I'm usually the one who ends up scarred and walking funny if I manage to find myself tangled up with anyone. Strikes me as somehow odd that I need to trust someone more to top than to let them do unspeakable things to me? Think a lot of it is to do with the fact that most of my experience until rather recent times (well, five years buts its not like it has been a constant shag-fest) was on the receiving end of hetero-sex and so when faced with the prospect of actually being allowed to be part a going into part b I get a bit bewildered and afraid I'm going to do it wrong, to not be a 'proper hardcore radical sex fucking machine' and so I simply don't do it. Oh, and having been around quite a number of stone types I always get confused if people leave their boxers or shirts on as to if I am actually allowed to go there- many a 'what are you doing?' reaction has left me a little hesitant to go for folks' rude bits if I think maybe that's not what they are wanting. Quite a cop-out, especially when I know that I'm not the only one that feels this way and expect other people to get over their inhibitions to top me. And when I do do it its one of my favourite things in the world to be have a sore hand from spanking and a sore wrist from being clamped down upon and a sore pubic bone from thrusting- I love to be in there! Ahh, figure I will get my confidence back eventually, and with any luck before too many more amazing orifices escape me. Maybe I just need to pick people who don't make me go totally weak at the knees just by looking at me? Can only find the nerve to be that rude to people who are either anonymous holes in toilet cubicles or really good friends/partners who I feel confident won't judge me- I find it hard to be even vaguely toppy with people I can barely speak to without blushing.

Still, despite feeling a little silly for not getting in there I'm smiling more than I have in MONTHS. And no matter what follows, or doesn't, it was a very nice end to a very nice holiday.

Labels: , ,

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Links to this post:

Create a Link

<< Home