Sunday, 29 November 2009

I love pain, but I can be kind of a finicky masochist, because I also hate pain. That is, it turns me on, but it hurts like a motherfucker. And unless I'm very turned on--as in, getting pretty close to coming--it doesn't really cancel out. Getting to the pleasure means either toughing it out, or having a top who understands and is comfortable with the idea that "ow" isn't a safeword. I'm a masochist... but I'm a masochist who has to push herself. I'm okay with that.

So it deeply weirds me out to see someone who doesn't have this same conflict. I was playing with a guy and every time I hurt him he just smiled and got harder. There was no tension in his muscles, no gritted teeth in his smile. He really just liked it. Not "I hate it but I love it" like me--straight up.

It was weird. And amazing. And in a way almost scary because I didn't know how far I could go. I was doing things to his cock that made me wince and he just grinned and urged me on. There was no pain in his pleasure. It was like magic.

I don't know if I'm jealous. I kinda take pride in my ow-mmm-ow brand of masochism, or at least I'm used to it. But I'm awed.

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