I am new to kink, but I like it. Before my Dom and I began our relationship, we researched kinks we wanted to try, we discussed and communicated likes, dislikes, triggers, ground rules for relationship expectations, safe words—the whole shebang. (My…pun not intended, but grrrr….) Yes, I do digress, however my point is this: We try to be prepared—for everything. And you know, you just can’t always be prepared for everything. No. You. Can’t.
One of the things we are trying out is public play. We’ve been interested in watching and being watched for a while, so it wasn’t a far leap for us to bring a little extra buzz (definitely pun intended) to the restaurant snatch-and-grab we checked off of our list in December (or “DOMcember” if you’re considering reading my most recent little production available on Amazon. Again, I digress…shameless self promoter that I am). So, my Dom, being the wonderful man that he is, decides (with my input, of course), he’d like to use a toy that he controls with his phone as part of our public play. He buys one of the best—a top-of-the-line Lelo (not endorsing…just stating facts). We practiced beforehand and found the settings that gave me the most pleasure. I planned my outfit. A nice table at a swanky sushi bar was put on reserve…and off we went on our sexy adventure. When we get there, apparently, the reservation wasn’t “reserving,” so we are placed on the dreaded “wait list.” (RBF…I’m totally impatient.) My Dom, a very positive, pleasant personality, suggests that we casually stroll around and visit some stores. As soon as we stop in front of Williams-Sonoma, I have to go in. I’m a freak for other kinds of toys—the kind you use in the kitchen that never see anything except the kitchen. At one point, he walks away from me and then…nothing. We lost connection. Okay, I think. I can still feel it. It’s still sexy and we can restart it. It’s the Cadillac of vibrators! Apparently, we can’t restart it. Think technical difficulties that you can’t exactly fix in public. With too many people around at that particular venue, we quickly move out of the store and down the sidewalk. As we’re walking around and he’s trying to figure out a plan, I feel it. The sliding. There’s definitely some sliding happening. I clinch my thighs to try to keep it in. Thank God for Pilates this week. I do my little duck walk, hoping to make it to the car for tinkering, but I know I’m not gonna make it. I did not prepare for this! Our kink has hit a snag. Right there, at the intersection of Pottery Barn and LoveSac, my toy fell right out on the cold, desolate sidewalk. (Hold all vagina jokes, please.) Fortunately, our quickly thrown-together plan for him to stand in front of me and swoop up that bad girl worked. No one was the wiser, and our collaboration was the perfect equivalent to combination of an Olympic baton hand-off in a marked exchange zone. The sushi was really excellent. The laughter was better. My public play toy adventure was a buzzkill. (Did you really think you’d leave this piece without at least one more pun?!?) But, here’s one thing I learned: Kink is as much about the adventure as it is about the accomplishment. So, if you see me walking funny, just keep moving. I’m working out the snags in my kink.
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STELLA GRAEAuthor of the novel Just Call Me Confidence from The Wild Rose Press. Archives
June 2023
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