I’m having a tough time dealing with the ideas you have expressed for our next play. So tough, in fact, that I’ve been sitting here staring at the previous statement for a solid ten minutes trying to figure out how to explain what I’m feeling. I’m just going to write and hope it comes out making sense.
Fear. That is the primary thing I have going on. I want to move on to anal play with you. I want this very much. The little bit (pun intended) I have experienced I really enjoy. I’m scared. I’m a little kid playing in a sand lot and your major league. I’m still playing with Nerf toys so I don’t get hurt and you want me to play with a Louisville Slugger. I need to be pushed. I’m afraid I will be pushed until I fall down. I wish I had never seen your toys. I’m anxious and I’m concerned that being anxious will make it even more difficult.
The prep for our adventure also gives me significant pause. I’m beet red thinking about it. I keep telling myself it won’t be how I imagine. I keep telling myself that doing it your way won’t be as horrible as I think. I keep telling myself we will somehow be closer after dealing with it together. I keep telling myself these things, but I don’t believe them, no matter how many times I make the arguments. I don’t want to be embarrassed. I don’t want you to be revolted. I’m afraid both of these things will happen. I’m fearful that this will become part of the “Things to Mock K About” hit parade.
I have all of the above roaming around my mental hallways. It is taking up space. Apparently, not enough space to prevent thoughts of speculums from wandering around, too. I do not understand what is going on with the idea of speculums and my resulting arousal. The only thing that makes any kind of sense is the total lack of control that goes along with them.
On the other hand I have discovered that being blatantly vulnerable in your presence is also a massive turn on for me. I don’t understand that reaction either but maybe it’s part of The Speculum Appeal. Is it because it’s You? I genuinely don’t know. All I know is that hearing an invoice read aloud has never been simultaneously alarming and fucking hot.
Because of you, I am watching fisting videos and I am not watching them through a hand slapped over my eyes while wincing, thinking why would anyone do that? as I had previously done. I am now fascinated. I am now analyzing. I am now thinking things like An infant’s head is much larger than that, It sure doesn’t seem like she’s in pain, So that’s what “up to the knuckles” looks like, That doesn’t look so bad. All of this is quickly followed by what the fuck is wrong with me?? and a rapid command+Q, as if closing the browser will rid me of the images burned into my mind.
I am confounded by the reactions you provoke in me. I am endlessly amused at being confounded.