Jul 072014
 
love and hate watercolor posterI’ve been feeling insecure and anxious. My relationship is strong, but not secure, and changes are coming soon. The disquiet comes courtesy of a goodbye that’s lasted months, and persistent uncertainty about exactly when he’ll leave (we still don’t know). We try to keep it light, but the consequence of falling sand is that it grows heavier as it piles up — the weight is becoming difficult to handle.

Even under normal circumstances, my default is high strung, wound tight, with a tangle of thoughts in my head. But despite all of that — the anxiety, uncertainty, and sadness — the weekend we spent together pushed the melancholy into the background (and temporarily drove the Under Toad back out to sea).

We spent hours in bed — playing, talking, kissing, laughing, fucking — and it was amazing. I was less in my head and more present than I’ve ever been, and he was sweet, attentive, and compliant.

We enjoyed each other thoroughly, and at evening’s end, every part of him belonged to me, and I was relaxed and sated.

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He was still buzzing slightly, and I did my best to bring him down gently. I cleaned him up, checked for damage, and brought him food and water. I held him in my arms and claimed him, petted him, and treasured him. I whispered words of my ownership and my love.

My heart full and eyelids heavy, after he was cared for, I wanted nothing more than to curl around my boy and drift off into dreamless sleep.

As I started to drift off, his voice jerked me back from my free fall into sleep. Very clearly (not in his subspacey rambling nor in his drowsy whispers) he made a ‘suggestion.’ It wasn’t phrased as a request, but a ‘recommendation.’

I fight so hard to keep my emotions in check. I spend so much energy fending off the insecurity and the sadness that it takes little to return me to my default, and only a little more to scramble it into something else.

The soft contented hum that filled me dissolved to static, and then it crackled into anger.

Why can’t anything ever be enough for you?

Why can’t I be enough for you?

I was taken aback by my articulation of an unexpected truth and scrambled to fill the silence before he could. I had no words, so in their absence, I moved instead. I hurried around the room searching for the toy he had ‘suggested’ (a hands-free double-ended dildo, so I could fuck him better… as if I hadn’t already fucked him well enough).

Clearly, I was upset and angry, and J knows me well enough to realize that’s a bad combination for both of us — his expression was a mix of alarm and concern.

After finding the strapless strap-on and the lube, I stood at the foot of the bed and tried to jam the pony end inside me. I wasn’t ready — I turned my face away so he wouldn’t see me wince as I forced the bulb into my cunt.

I climbed up onto the bed, grabbed his hips and dragged him to the edge. With an obscene amount of lube, I unceremoniously lubricated my cock and worked my fingers into him just long enough to make sure I wouldn’t hurt him.

I lifted his legs onto my shoulders and entered him easily.

I held onto his thighs for leverage and pulled him back onto my cock as I pushed myself inside him. Finding a rhythm — slow, but hard — I slammed my weight against him and tried to fuck the thoughts out of my head.

Restrung and pulled tight, I was already near the point of breaking. The lump in my throat and the knot in my belly tightened, and before long, I was close to coming, or crying… maybe both.

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Aside from being close to tears on one or two occasions, I haven’t cried in front of J since the beginning.

But fucking him with mostly misplaced emotions — ones I couldn’t bring myself to voice — it was all so intimate and vulnerable.

I pulled out, steadied myself, and tried to speak… but instead of words, tears came… and then I fell apart.

I knew I’d break down at some point, but I didn’t think it would be after angry fucking. I’ve never felt so vulnerable  — awkwardly standing at the foot of the bed, legs shaking, wearing nothing but a bra and a ridiculously bright blue cock… crying big fat ugly tears.

J tried to comfort me, but I wouldn’t have it — I thought I might be able to pull myself together. When that effort proved futile, I tried to explain away my tears and convince us both that I wasn’t really breaking down.

I rationalized — it was a rough week, I was under a lot of stress, I hadn’t had enough sleep — and when all of that failed to be convincing, I just apologized (over and over again) for crying.

In hindsight, I’m glad I didn’t say what was in my head and on my heart:

I love you.

…but I hate you for making me love you.

…and I hate you for leaving me.

(Why can’t I be enough for you?)


“Love Hate” by abb-d, (2010). Work licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial 3.0 License. (modification from original: cropped, corners rounded, derivative work)

 

  14 Responses to “angry emo butt sex”

  1. I don’t know what to say to this, except that this touches me on so many levels and I feel with you.
    Again, thank you for being able to put all this into such beautiful words.

  2. This continues to break my heart because I empathize with those feelings. Not the angry butt sex, just the other stuff.

    I had a moment similar to this the other morning with my d-type. I was floaty and happy in subspace and I was telling him I thought I could take more of something. He very firmly told me I had enough and needed to relax. It stung at the time (because I’m sensitive to a fault) but now, in hindsight, I realize it probably sounded like I wasn’t happy/it wasn’t enough. So thank you for the eye opener as well.

    I don’t speak for all s-types (I’m not the Lorax of bottoms) but I think we (I, at least) sometimes forget that our D-types can be sensitive after a scene too… and need reassurance and to know that they’ve done well/been good.

    Hope you’re feeling okay today.

    Xoxo

    • because I empathize with those feelings. Not the angry butt sex, just the other stuff.

      Ha! This made me laugh… thank you for that! :)

      I realize it probably sounded like I wasn’t happy/it wasn’t enough. So thank you for the eye opener as well.

      Hindsight is… well, you know. I’ve got it too — when I’m not in the moment, I can understand that he always wants more, that it’s no complaint against me, but in the moment, I’m not as rational as I should be and it stings.

      I don’t speak for all s-types (I’m not the Lorax of bottoms)

      Damn. I’ll keep looking until I find that Every-Sub Lorax… :)

  3. Hell.

    The distress, the grief, were palpable. Sincere sympathies.

  4. This made my heart break for you. So beautifully emotive and honest. I can totally empathise with hating someone for making you love them, and then leaving you. xx

  5. Such a sad yet well-wrought piece. I guess there’s more sand grains in the bottom bulb than the top, all weighing You down :(

    • Thank you, James. :)

      in the bottom bulb than the top, all weighing You down

      You know, for a second, when I read ‘bulb,’ and ‘bottom,’ and ‘top,’ I thought you were talking about the double-ended dildo. I really do need to get more sleep, don’t I? :)

  6. The feeling of somehow not being enough for someone you love and who professes to love you, too, is terrible. It’s the worst sort of insecurity, and it can sabotage the love you have.

    Hating that you love someone is even worse. After my most recent ex broke up with me, I spent months having bouts of hating that I loved her and feeling like I was stupid to love her. There were times when I was driving that I would think about what I wanted to tell her, and it was always hurtful, cruel, selfish, and self-centered, blaming her. I’ve been so much happier since I’ve gotten past that anger (not as happy as I was when we were dating, but still pretty good). I don’t hate that I fell in love with her, I don’t regret it, I don’t feel stupid about it. It was worth all of the hurt, which I couldn’t say about past relationships. I guess what I’m saying is I hope it has been and will be worth the hurting.

    • The feeling of somehow not being enough for someone you love and who professes to love you, too, is terrible. It’s the worst sort of insecurity, and it can sabotage the love you have.

      Yes to this! You said it perfectly — in just a few words, you captured what took me hundreds of words to articulate. It is an awful feeling — it’s okay, of course (no one person is enough for another person to draw all of their happiness from), but that doesn’t make it hurt any less.

      feeling like I was stupid to love her.

      I’ve been having similar thoughts — not that love is stupid per se, but that it’s completely irrational. I think I know what you mean, though. I’m kicking myself a bit for getting in over my head. I knew this was coming… I’ve always known, but I gave up trying to guard my heart a long time ago. That wasn’t the brightest thing I’ve ever done.

      With that said, I have no regrets. He’s worth the hurt.

      Thanks for this, Neo.

  7. You’re not alone.

    While your J is leaving you because he has to, I know that my J is going to leave me eventually because he wants to. Find comfort in the “he has to”. After all, happiness is not guaranteed and the precious moments we are allowed together is something you’ll love, not hate.

    Thank you for writing this.

    • You’re not alone.

      Thank you for this, Kimberlee. :)

      I’m so sorry to hear that you’re losing your J. This must be a bad time of year for those of us who love people named J. :(

      I wish I knew more of your story — how do you know that your J will want to leave? (Is it about location? Is it about you or someone else?) Regardless, my heart goes out to you. Losing someone you love — for whatever reason — is ridiculously painful.

      your J is leaving you because he has to, I know that my J is going to leave me eventually because he wants to. Find comfort in the “he has to”.

      Kinda… maybe? It depends on your perspective. :) My J is leaving to follow his dreams and pursue a different career path. He doesn’t have to go because he lost his job or hates his former job. It’s not something he has to do to keep himself fed and housed, but it is something he has to do to be happy. (In my mind, that means he does have to go, but not everyone will agree — it’s not so black and white.)

      With that said, I absolutely get what you’re saying — I do consider myself lucky to know that isn’t leaving because of me — he’s leaving because it’s something he has (wants) to do.

      Best wishes to you, Kimberlee — I hope everything works out for you! :)

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