Relating To Pain

Sep 20, 2006

9:22 AM

She was a seductress with slender fingers. A rapacious desire for carnal intimacy was the path to her Eden. We became intimate and engaged in soul baring. It wasn't a mistake, but it led to frustration. I did not want to share her. I wanted her to myself. I wanted to explore and exhaust the possibilities. I didn't want her to bring me a venereal gift from some other fuck buddy.

She used misdirection and subtle insult to maintain her power and mystery. She was a masochist. She told me this in just before it became apparent that we were a temporary arrangement. I was concerned with finding the basic vocabulary of our sex. After all, it didn't appear that we would have that much time together. Finally, she taunted me. She laughed as she told me that I was too good to give her pain. I bit her hard on the shoulder to prove her wrong. After she came, I turned on the light to see her expression, and to see if I had drawn blood. She laughed and asked, "Are you checking to see if I'm for real?"

She looked woozy and satiated as at no other time. The pain and the climax seemed to make her feel bad enough to feel exceptionally good. I'm not sure of the mechanics. I researched masochism quite some time later and found a theory that masochism, or an Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, were alternative outcomes to a childhood trauma typically involving sexual abuse. That's some choice; wash your hands five hundred times a day, or whips and chains and pain. If it were me, I believe I would chose pain.

It all turned out to be a wounding experience for me. The love chemicals had flooded my brain and I was in pain. I knew better. I knew I wasn't her complimentary sadist. Yet, there I was, immersed in despair.

I still remember the gestures that those thin fingers made. I remember the ringlets of hair caressing my cheekbone. I can still see how her eyes sparked when she laughed and the magnificent smile that betrayed her seriousness. We went to see a play. I don't remember it. I remember that she was wearing a mid-calf length skirt, and she had to use the restroom. I remember the exact movement that her ass made as she was walking away from me.