Think kink


It’s a curious road, the one to a kinky relationship.

Kinky sex? Well that’s easy to come by. (Yes, pun, ahahaha.) When you’re female, vaguely attractive, ballsy and filthy; finding a man to scratch that itch is about as difficult as accidentally eating an entire packet of Jaffa Cakes. That is to say, it comes naturally to me.

The internet, pubs, clubs, friends, acquaintances… really the pool of willing playthings is vast if you have the courage to cast your net in the first place. A kinky relationship, though – that’s another kettle of fish.

Fishing metaphors aside, finding a partner with whom you’re well matched is bloody hard. Through a process of trial and error (mostly error), I surmised that looking for the kink before the relationship doesn’t really work. You can have all the wild monkey sex in the world with someone, but if they can’t put up with your mates or understand why your DVD collection consists mostly of Zac Efron then you’re scuppered.*

So one must do it the other way around. Find a nice person. Smooch them. Date them. Bed them. Keep them. Then, if you’re lucky, comes the kink. A tell-all disclosure of epic proportions; a gut-wrenching, toe-curling, cringe-inducing conversation where you tell the person who’s been enthusiastically boring you half to death in bed that there might be more to your naughty streak than those furry handcuffs from Ann Summers. At best they’ll be ok with it. At worst, horrified.

To find someone who reacts with a slow, evil grin; wild eyes and barely-contained glee at meeting their match? That’s nothing short of miraculous.

Which is why stumbling into just such a scenario has left me rather disoriented, albeit in a very smug way. I wonder about all that wasted agonising I did in the past, trying to turn vanilla boyfriends into kinky ones, and kinky playthings into boyfriends. Am I spectactularly dense at picking men, or was I just trying too hard to fit a square peg in a round hole?

Either way, it all seems futile now. I’ve blundered aimlessly into something that, for the first time ever, is both emotionally functional and sexually fulfilling. This was supposed to be a post on how to introduce kink to a new relationship — but I realise that I have no idea how we managed it so easily. Apart from pure fucking luck. Lucky me.

* Why is my head full of boat/fishing metaphors? Seriously, I don’t even like fish.

2 Responses to “Think kink”

  1. 1 demurelemur

    Oooh I like this post. I can relate. The fella I went out with before my lover just didn’t want to have any naughty fun. It was all vanilla, and I was the ice-cream vendor. No girl should ever have to say ‘please! All you have to do is lie there.’ The kink in my current relationship has grown with our love and trust. Filthy IM conversations also helped, because I’m often willing to type things that I can’t quite bring myself to say. Anyways, lucky you! I’m glad you’ve found yourself a charming pervert. May you have many nights, mornings and afteroons of filthy fun. Also, I think it’s quite obvious that you’re harbouring a secret sailor fetish, thus the marine metaphors. Buy yo’ man (or yo’self) a sexy little sailor outfit.

    • IM is definitely the way forward, it allowed us to breach topics we’d have died of shame to talk about face-to-face.

      Also, I *do* love sailors.

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