Something scary happened in my bed one time.
Now, I fancy myself to be a little experienced in the bedroom. But I’m still in my 20s. All my ‘experiences’ are just the tip of what a real adult sex life looks like.
Me and my gal went out for the night. We hit up a coffee shop, caught a movie, slipped in for the tail end of a party, drank Sangria and laughed hard until we started weeping fruity, crimson tears; then we turned in.
We crawled into bed and started getting frisky. I touched her up and down. We smooched and squeezed and spanked. She is a foreplay junky, and it only gets worse when she’s drinking, so we were drunkenly fondling and tonguing each other for the better part of an hour. After this spell, I stuff a hard dick into her and we go to Pound Town.
Pound Town is a wild country with this gal. She is a bit of a tomboy. She plays softball, fucks girls, and has a wrestling fetish. She can be a real lady too. She likes dresses and makeup and the Gilmore Girls. Though lets her fuzzy navel grow freely. She’s proud of that. Sex with this gal is an interesting combo of wiles, both feminine and masculine.
Now, I get scared in the bedroom. All the time. For all sorts of different reasons. I get scared that my partner won’t find me attractive. I get scared that I won’t be able to get it up. I get scared that I won’t be rough enough. I get scared that I’ll be too rough.
I get scared that I am too rough. But as a top-heavy kinkster, I’ve never really been scared of my partner being too rough. But I had a very real experience with this girl when she unannouncedly slapped me in the face mid coitus. Hard.
She slapped the shit out of me.
There were a number of different feelings this provoked in me. I was startled. I was angry. And I was scared on a whole series of levels. I was scared for my safety because she engaged in a direct mechanical strike without negotiating that level of physicality with me. I was scared I made a very inaccurate judgement of my partner’s dedication to my safety. And I was scared of the anger I felt. I slapped her back.
I slapped the shit out of her.
After I did that, I told her we needed to stop. The emotions that were running hot in my horny lizard brain were something that needed to be checked immediately. I pulled out and threw in the towel like somebody just showed me a picture of Gary Busey. She was polite enough to offer me a session of gentle cuddles and relaxed conversation.
Laying there, all flustered and frantic, I asked what provoked her to do that. She said she had no idea. She told me that she was just overcome with an intense urge to slap me stupid and it happened virtually without a thought. I wasn’t going to judge her too harshly, though. I’ve certainly pulled a spur-of-the-moment move that wasn’t received as well as I had predicted. So I wrote it off as just one of those things you do and she acknowledged my hesitations as legitimate and it was never a problem ever again.
It was never a problem with her, at least.
A year later, I’m with a different young lady. She has different proclivities, different styles, and has never met the lady from the previous anecdote. But still, despite complete separation from my previous experience, this girl behaved in a very similar fashion. We were getting hot and heavy like two frottage-wild teenagers. After we started splicing sex organs, she looked up at me with this face that I’ve only seen Jack Nicholson make. Sure enough, without warning, she reeled back with her strong hand and slapped me right across the face.
She slapped the shit out of me.
This wasn’t my first rodeo, though. So I kept my cool and just held her arms down and fucked her crooked like a calm and collected young man. It wasn’t as startling as the first time, but it still wasn’t real pleasant. Not so unpleasant I had to stop, though.
After we had wrapped things up and she was cleaning the Hitachi and I was putting away the N64 Rumble-Pack, we cuddled up and I had to inquire.
Why do that thing that you done?
She said something similar to the last explanation I had received. She wasn’t entirely sure. But in the heat of the moment, cracking me across the kisser like she was a pimp named Slickback seemed a totally logical decision. We had a few words, and just resolved to ask before exchanging that kind of intimacy in the future.
The third time I was with a gal who suddenly slapped me in the face during sex, I just said “please don’t do that” and carried on.
And yes, she slapped the shit out of me.
I could dismiss an isolated incident with this kind of behavior. But three independent, non-consecutive occurrences has led me to believe that this might be something worth exploring more comprehensively. This experience has led me to some new ideas about the realms of sexuality. Firstly, nobody falls 100% on either side of the dom/sub spectrum. This is also a fine reason to remind people about the importance of prior consent in the bedroom.
Just like gender, sexuality, or any other conventionally accepted false dichotomy; there is a wide spectrum of potential standings for how dominant or submissive somebody is in the bedroom. I’ve seen diehard subs who would lick strange things off stranger places and like it just because they were being told. I’ve seen these same subs be absolutely enamored with the idea of their dom being tied up before being serviced. Similarly, I’ve seen plenty of domineering, heavy-handed doms start to swoon when somebody mentions pulling their hair.
The point is that nobody falls completely on either end of the spectrum. There is no factory-standard set of sexual preferences. And it’s dangerous to assume. I’ve had partners in the past forge ahead without asking based on their previous successes and I have been very startled at some of these attempts. You should ask before trying something new with a partner, ideally. You should definitely ask if your partner will need to look it up before they agree.
We need to explore these different aspects of our own preferences.
We need to explore the shit out of them.