Page 405 of S is for SEX

“Can I have those?” Kelli asked.

“Have what?”

“The tickets, I collect movie tickets,” she said.

Puzzled, I handed her the tickets. She placed them in her purse and walked beside me into the theatre. It was dimly lit and about ten minutes before the movie was to begin. We walked to the left side of the auditorium and stopped at an aisle that was empty.

“You go first, Kelli, I prefer that you sit on my left,” I said as I motioned to the aisle.

Smiling and without speaking, she slid into her seat in the middle of the aisle. I sat beside her and placed my water in the cup holder in the armrest on my right. I glanced at Kelli, who was looking around the theatre, as if she were doing an inventory of all the patrons. The shadows on her face in the dimly lit theatre presented her face in a different beauty. She was a gorgeous but very simple woman.

The women that I had been exposed to in the past had provided me with useful real-world data regarding personalities, preferences, character traits, and character defects. Typically, the women that were more outspoken, personality rich and vibrant were submissive to a degree, but a much lesser degree than a reserved, quiet woman. An intelligent woman that was reserved, slow to ask questions but quick to answer them - was typically a much more naturally submissive woman.

Submissive women fell into two categories, submissive by choice and submissive by nature. Naturally submissive women were my preference. They were, however, more difficult to find. Women that were submissive by choice were the most common and preferred to be in sexually submissive roles. A naturally submissive woman actually needed to be in a submissive role to feel as if she were living a useful life.

The availability of a naturally submissive woman was nil for women my age and almost non-existent at any age. The naturally submissive woman was recognized by a dominant male early in life, and typically would end up in a committed relationship while young. A relationship, regardless of the quality, that would last forever.

Statistically speaking, women who were naturally submissive were in relationships and many of these relationships were abusive. The abusive male in the relationship was not only dominant, but controlling, and abusive. The women in these types of relationships were mentally beaten down to a point that they lacked any level of self-esteem and were reliant upon the dominant abusive male to feel as if they were capable of surviving. Regardless of the level of abuse, the female would stay in the relationship, convinced that they would never be able to find anyone else that would love them. Over time, the pattern of behavior from the abusive male would be far more abusive and far less loving.

The typical female in this type of abusive relationship would stay, convinced that she would never be able to find anyone else that would even accept her as a partner. Convinced that the alternative consisted of living a life alone, the female stayed with their abusive male partner. Physical abuse was common in these types of relationships.

The public perception of the dominant male in a D/s relationship was that he was abusive. Abuse and dominance, in the public eye, were hand-in-hand. In an actual D/s relationship, nothing could be further from the truth. Mental or physical abuse was something that I didn’t tolerate. I often wondered if my non-committal position regarding relationships was in some respect…abusive.

“Channing Tatum is cute, he reminds me of you, Erik,” Kelli said as the lights dimmed.

“How so?” I responded.

“Well, you’re built the same, you have the same features, and your hair is about the same length. You’re just a little more serious than he is, but you could almost be his double,” she answered as she offered me a smile.

“Well, thank you, I suppose.”

She smiled, and placed her water bottle in the arm rest between us.

“Put that in the arm rest on your left, Kelli. I am going to eventually fold this arm rest up,” I said as I pointed to Kelli’s left.

“Oh, I didn’t know they moved,” she said as she moved her bottle of water to the arm rest on her left.

I immediately pushed the arm rest up between the two seats. The previews were beginning, and Kelli was looking at the screen intently. I placed my left hand on top of her right hand, which was resting on her right knee. Her hand curled slightly as I cupped her hand in mine. Rubbing her hand and wrist, I moved her hand to my left thigh and pressed it onto my leg slightly.

She began to rub my thigh as the previews played. The rubbing became more energetic, and her hand began to slide closer toward my rapidly growing erection. Typically, I had tremendous control over my level of arousal, and in turn, my erections. I could mentally regulate if and control when I obtained an erection, regardless of the involvement or actions of my female partner. This did not seem to be the case with Kelli. For my sense of satisfaction, I focused and attempted to make my now full erection flaccid again.

No success.

Focus, Erik, focus.

Rigid.

Margaret Thatcher naked in a snowstorm. Anchovy pizza. My obese third grade teacher, Miss Kratz. Children playing. Fingernails on a chalkboard. Trigonometry. Clowns. Midget porn.

No success.

Her hand slid up my thigh and encompassed my erection. She squeezed lightly. Her head turned from the screen toward me. I looked in her direction slightly. She smiled as she lightly squeezed my erection. Her hand began to slowly slide up and down my inner thigh, to my knee, and back up to my pelvic region.

I reached toward her with my left hand and grasped her neck slightly. Slowly, but with a firm light grip, I positioned her face closer to mine. With our eyes focused on each other, our lips met. Passionately, aggressively, we kissed. Our moist lips pressed against each other, my tongue searched for hers. As our tongues met, I held the back of her neck tighter, pressing her face against mine. As our mouths parted, I lightly licked her upper lip with the tip of my tongue.

Immediately, we embraced in another kiss. Her hand stroking my erection, we continued to kiss. I slid my right hand to her left breast. With my thumb and forefinger, I massaged her nipple between my fingers. As she began to moan, the kiss became more passionate. I slid my hands up to her face, holding her face lightly in both hands. With her face firmly in my hands, I looked into her eyes. She gazed at me as if in a trance.

“I really like kissing you, Erik. I don’t like kissing, and I really, fucking really, like kissing you,” she said, her full lips moist and swollen from the kissing.

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