I was late.
Traffic on the M25 (Brits will understand what this means) got the better of me. Despite leaving an extra 30 minutes early I still failed to be on time and ended up being nearly 30 minutes late. I texted him from the car telling him I was stuck in traffic. He replied he replied telling me I should have left earlier. I controlled the urge to reply back, ‘No shit, Sherlock’ and instead went with, I know’. His reply ended the exchange
“The key is in the door, let yourself in, lock the door behind you.”
I was fast learning that this man could disarm me and turn me into a raging bag of lusty horn with one simple sentence. It was both fantastic and infuriating at the same time.
When I finally did arrive at his house the key was, as promised, in the door. I let myself in and followed the little glow of lamp light into the front room. He was sitting on the sofa waiting for me.
“I am sorry I am late”
“No need, I am sure you won’t be late again” (He was right about that, but I also eventually discovered that being early was far more of a crime than being late)
As I went to sit down on the sofa next to him he blocked the seat with his hand.
“Stand there” He said, pointing to the centre of the rug in front of him….
What happened next is another long story that featured rope, bondage, edging, orgasm denial, begging, leg spreaders and my first experience of spanking as well as lots of fucking, squirting, oral and anal. I have never written the full story of that night but many elements of what too place have snuck their way in various pieces of erotica that I have written over the years. However that night and the previous one really did set the tone for the rest of our relationship which spanned the next 6 months. He became my tour guide to all things filthy and depraved. He introduced me to swinging and encouraged me to explore all the joys of my slutty behaviour. He showed me that being ‘a slut’ was not a bad thing but that owning it, enjoying it, and getting pleasure from those desires was both sexy to others and nothing to be ashamed of. It was exciting, liberating, fun, sexy as hell and exactly what I needed at that time. In the end it became obvious to both of us that his very early predictions that I would eventually need something more than he could give me turned out, despite my protests to the contrary, to be true. I was so very sad at the time. I felt like I had lost something very precious and I will admit that I mourned its passing greatly but now when I look back I know that it was all part of the process of getting to where I am today, happily kinky.
So the point of writing this little series was to answer two of the 30 Days of Kink questions:
What was your first kinky sexual experience?
The first date with this man was my first kinky experience. I didn’t know it was going to be but it really was a huge turning point in my sexual self discovery. I think I was very lucky to meet that man when I did. His timing in that regard was perfect and his willingness to show me some of the many delights of filthy kinky sex really set me off on a totally new course in my life including, in a roundabout way, deciding to start this blog.
As for the next question
How Did You Discover You Were Kinky?
It would be totally incorrect to say that this relationship was how I discovered I was kinky, it would imply there was a specific moment when it happened and that is not true, it was not a light bulb moment but a gradual realisation. I guess that first date was a bit like someone turning the light on, but like a bright light shone into the darkness all it did was blind me for while. However it was definitely the trigger for everything that has come since that moment. That first date and the subsequent relationship with that man was the beginning of a long and still ongoing discovery of my kink.
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