When I first experienced kink, it was like coming home. I totally rejected the notion of vanilla sex and became engaged and interested. Sex was no longer boring or something to be endured. Vanilla became foreign and I happily accepted that.
But things change. People change. I no longer see vanilla and kink as being mutually exclusive. In my head they’re sometimes part of a Venn diagram or sometimes on a spectrum. I also have a third category of filth* for things that don’t fit into any other category.
And everyone defines these things differently. My vanilla would probably horrify my conservative friends and family. Last night, for example, TSH and I had a fairly gentle ‘struggle fuck’ – I tried to fight him off and he held me down. And when he had me pinned, he fucked me, holding my wrists hard, giving me the occasional slap on the side of my breasts and face. For us, it was fairly vanilla. And bloody lovely, as we’ve not done that for a while.
This morning, I made myself come whilst he watched and then we fucked, him taking advantage of my wetness, me on top, sliding myself up and down the full length of his cock as he writhed beneath me. That was, I think vanilla, but again, for some, it might push into the realm of ‘filthy’. All a case of definition…
I know I need an edge of pain or being physically or verbally controlled, to properly get off and that will never change. But it doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy other sexual activities. Fucking in front of the city, for example. I’d class that as vanilla and a little bit filthy, and I loved it. Or that same night, when I fully relaxed as he had his mouth on my clit… the building anticipation as he kissed repeatedly up and down my inner thighs until I trembled with need.
I like anal play and would class that as ‘filthy’ rather than anything else but depending on what else is happening, it could be kinky or not. We’ve not had anal sex since that first time, but it was an incredibly intimate and connected experience and one I want to repeat, but right now, we understand that I’m too vulnerable in other ways.
And even with vanilla fucking, there’s lots of ways of changing my internal perspective without needing a full out scene: add in lingering grabs that squeeze harder and harder, or rest your hand on my collarbone. Or tell me where to put my hands, to not move, or utter those words that when used right, speak directly to my cunt, “do you understand?”
I think this post might be a little bit confused, but then again, so is my head to an extent. I had it all clearly sorted and as I said, I’ve changed. And right now, rather than trying to overthink or control it, I’m just rolling with it and seeing what happens.
* filth – it’s a loaded word – it allows society to continue to shame people for their sexuality and desires, but as with cunt, I use it without shame to take the power out of it. And for those that know this side of me, they know I’m happy to call myself, and be called, filthy. And it just adds to the beautiful, intimate, connected sex that I have.
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