Benny was okay.

I saw Benny today, and weirdly, I felt really good about it. During and after. He's changed a lot. I've changed a lot, and maybe more recently than I realize.

For most of my life, I've always had the feeling during sex that I was getting away with something. Like the grown-ups didn't want me doing this, like I had to hide it. Today we were lying in bed together naked, kind of idly stroking at each other's bits but between bouts of real sex, the window open to the afternoon sunlight, and I had the thought that this was something two people did and it was really okay. Millions of couples around the world were in bed just like us, and it was just one of the wonderful things about being alive.

Well, except I tied his wrists to his ankles and put clothespins on his cock and made him suck my strap-on and lick up his own fluids, so maybe not everyone was exactly like us, but you know, close enough.


(It's sort of weird that I no longer bottom at all to the man who introduced me to hittysex. But I just haven't been feeling it lately, and I've been genuinely enjoying hitting him.)