Let me tell you about My Sweetie. After four years of loving, challenging and kinking with each other, we’re still finding new ways to find erotic and sensual pleasure. Even when we were just a few months into our relationship, I already knew that the sex we were having was some of the very best I’d ever had. That wasn’t just due to my lover’s dexterity and sexiness, it was due to the variety of ways we had already found to be intimate together. Sure, penetration is intimate, kissing is intimate, snuggling naked is intimate. Telling deepest truths is also intimate as is long, deep eye-gazing.
Almost from the beginning I trusted them with my deepest desires, some mundane, many deeply taboo. They made safe space for me by being completely open with their own desires, as dirty and depraved as mine. In that safe space, we blossomed and grew and continue to grow.
Another secret to our continued sexual satisfaction is the flexible and mutable way we present and embody ourselves. One moment I might be myself and the next a younger and more naive self, being led by someone older. We play liberally with incest taboos and in a short amount of time might slip from me being the older and them being younger, to the other way around. It’s nearly seamless and we recognize the phase shift from the smallest of cues – body language, voice pitch, terms of endearment.
Wrapped up in the trust and openness is a lack of shame. We don’t shame each other for our kinks, and if one or the other is not into a particular kind of play in the moment, we just say so. I still find it revolutionary to be able to make adjustments to what we are doing in the moment, to be able to say “please harder” or “more gentle right now” or to take my lover’s hands and guide them to the location that will send me to the stratosphere. I trust them to tell me what’s working or not, and they trust me not to take offense at the direction. And vice versa. We trust each other and that makes all the other pieces of our relationship success possible.
I could write a million words about how we do what we do and I’d never be able to communicate what it feels to be inside the shelter we’ve made for each other. We can experiment, try something for a few minutes and and then decide to go a different direction. We acknowledge that what worked last week or even an hour ago, might not work in this moment. We are always changing, our bodies adjusting to our fuel levels, how full our bellies or bowels are, how much sleep we’ve gotten, the stress or anxiety we’ve experienced that day… all the variables of life can impact the way we feel in our bodies and what we desire in the moment.
They’ve just reminded me that I can’t really separate our sex life from our love life. It’s all of a piece. I love them deeply in part because of the trust we’ve established through sexual intimacy. I’ve revealed my deepest self and continue to do so as my personal excavation project continues. And with each reveal, they respond with love and kindness. I do the same for them, my love for them grows as I learn more and more.
I felt the need to give a disclaimer, something about how ‘it’s not perfect, but …’ What is perfect when it comes to relationships? Is it having all our needs met all the time? That may be the definition for some, but not for me. A perfect relationship for me is one that I can relax into, be vulnerable inside. One where I can grow, learn and be loved unconditionally. And that’s why I can say, this relationship is perfect for me.
I think instead of trying to explain my use of ‘multidimensional’ to describe my lover and the sex we have, I should illustrate the concept with a little story.
I arrive in the evening, after saying goodnight to my youngest. We’ve both had a full day of work and life, leaving us physically and emotionally drained. We start by sitting on the couch, sharing about our days, sitting close. Depending on the day, I might lean into them, or they might put their head on my shoulder. Or their legs across my lap, which would lead to me petting and lightly massaging their legs. We reconnect and relax by degrees.
Depending on our energy that night, friskiness may or may not make an appearance. Let’s say it does. They reach over to give my thigh a poke, making a guess as to where I injected my testosterone that morning. I grimace or yelp, or both, and give them a soft punch in the chest. We exchange light punches and pokes, until they aren’t so light anymore and we’re both sighing and groaning. And horny. The giving and receiving of pain gets our bits hard and wet. We move to the bedroom, stripping in a hurry so we can burrow under the covers and get warm again. If we’re smart, one of us grabs a pad because we are messy when we have sex. Gloriously messy.
Skin, skin, skin. I love the feeling of our bodies intertwined, hands roaming freely, probing, bringing the temperature back up. One of us will take the initiative in giving some direction to our activity. Usually one of us does, though sometimes we’re both in a receptive mood, and other times we wrestle for dominance. We are both switches, after all.
I jump up and get my harness and the long cock I love to fuck with. I shiver and curse myself for not thinking of this before I got into bed. To torment them and make sure they share in my discomfort, I pull the covers fully off as I move between their legs. There would likely be some tussling, some protest, and when my cock head grazes their cunt, a gasp of pleasure. I slide in and they wrap their legs around my hips, urging me to go deep, and I do, with long slow strokes.
At this point, I am me, the trans bear making love to his sweetie. At any moment, though, they might signal the desire for Daddy. Without missing a stroke, I am Daddy, fucking his little girl, telling her what a good girl she is, how Daddy loves her so much, how much better she is to fuck than Mommy, how he wants to leave Mommy and take his little girl with him. She responds in kind, egging me on, telling me how much she loves her Daddy’s big cock even though it hurts, how she looks forward to coming home from school so she can sit on Daddy’s lap and wiggle while his cock gets hard.
And that might go on for ten minutes or a half hour. And it may last the entire time we’re fucking or the scene might change mid-stroke.
“Daddy, remember when you said you were going to bring your friends over to fuck me? I want that, Daddy. I want to make you proud of me and make your friends happy.”
And with that, I’m a friend, someone Daddy knows from work, someone who came over to fuck her tight hole while Daddy watches.
Or maybe I slip sideways into Brother. Or perhaps I’m the pervert neighbor who lives between home and school and I’ve enticed the little girl to come play video games with me while I finger her.
We have amazing orgasms together, the intimacy of sharing our kinks and the ways we know each other’s bodies takes me deep and hard. Lying together in the aftermath, we catch our breath, get some water and might talk about what worked well, or what we could do differently next time. Or we might lie together in silence, held in place by the energy we created, the warm electric feeling of love and sexual satisfaction.
We probably aren’t done yet. They will reach over and let their fingers swim in my wetness. I’ll gasp and squirm, moaning as they stroke my little cock, moaning more loudly when their fingers slide inside me. Though I was Daddy, or other male entities moments before, in this moment, getting kisses down my neck and across my chest, strong fingers penetrating me, the female part of me comes to the surface. I whimper, I squirm, I wrap my arms around their strong shoulders and give myself to them.
“You’re beautiful, I see you” they might say.
Being seen is one of the most amazing ways to be told “I love you”. They see me, they see the sometimes subtle changes that signal the shift from masculine top to submissive female. And even then, more shifts will probably happen. My soft submission, my quiet whimpers and moans might transform into demanding hips and an insatiable hole. My grip on their shoulders will tighten or I might grab their hand and hold it still while I fuck their fingers and meet my needs.
“Bite me, go ahead, I know you need it” they might say, after my teeth have grazed their shoulder a couple times. I sink my teeth in, growling a little, my hips wild and my human thoughts retreating. I’m wilding, letting the animal overlay the person, with concern only for my satisfaction. They hold on, braving my teeth, encouraging me to use my claws on their back, until my pace finally slows and I drop back to the pillow, spent.
Does that help show you the ways we morph and change within the space of moments? Sometimes at the end, when we are either finally spent or acknowledging the human reality of needing to be finished because it’s a work night, we’ll marvel at the distance we covered, the number of combinations we fit into a seemingly short amount of time. But you probably know, if you’ve gone into the time warp that good sex can create, that time is truly relative.
I’d like to share more because there are so many more dimensions to the love I share with My Sweetie. There are the times they are Daddy, and times when they are Boy. Or Mama to my Boy. And I barely touched on our Primal moments or the ones when one or both of us is an Animal. And I have not told you anything about the kink we’ve been exploring, and the local kink club we go to and the conferences we’ve been to and the people I’ve met. And then there are the conversations we have about our relationship, about polyam, about … well all of it. There’s so much going on and so much to share.
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