I Am Kinky, Kinky Am I

(listen to this – and you’ll understand what prompted this post)

My mom was a horrible person.

Not really, but given how she hooked me on certain books when I was a teen – she was a horrible, horrible person.

I remember when she found a book she had loved as a teen.  Rosemary Rogers – Sweet Savage Love. A book written in 1974 – and a book that sent me on my way to, what I called, porn in a book.  I read that book ragged – my favorite parts were pretty clear as that well worn paperback opened right to them.  And I would sit there, read, with a hand slid down the front of my pants touching my clit.  You think a teenage boy masturbates a lot? Try a teenage girl with such a book.

What is amazing about that book -and the fact my mom gave it to me?  I could read it anywhere and get away with it.  No teenage boy could do what I could do – take porn into public and be judged a bookworm, not a horny teen.  That was the advantage I had.

Rosemary Rogers was known for rape scenes.  Set in historical times, the heroine was always kidnapped by the hero.  They always had a love/hate relationship with each other.  And in the end, she wanted him but didn’t so he took what he wanted – giving her, in the end, what she really wanted but society was preventing – sex without marriage.  And the sex was always hot.

I grew up loving the idea – the surrender – the power play.  I would lay in bed each night, my panties around my knees as I came over and over again to the idea of just that.  I knew but didn’t know that I was not supposed to get all hot and bothered by rape sex scenes in a book.  But over time, the books I would find – the books that were my favorite, would have similar themes of power play – of release of control.  Being a good girl for the strong man who wanted what he wanted – and loving every minute of it.

Then I realized I was a feminist in so many ways.

And felt guilty about these fantasies. I buried them – but not my sex drive.

I often joke that the boys were dumb in my high school. I was a horny girl who was willing to fuck just to get off – and all they saw was the bookworm, good student.  I stopped short a few times jumping the guy I was dating simply because I was pretty sure I’d scare him off – and it wasn’t what I really got off on – which was the idea of being jumped.

I remember the first time I met G after class in his room, and he was assertive – wanting to touch me – my skin not over the clothes – and I was like “ahhh”…..and wet and horny.  While he was worried he was pushing, I was a happy girl – content with the direction – and eager and willing to do more, explore more.  It isn’t a surprise we jumped into bed together as quickly as we did.  Two horny teens found each other in an atmosphere of no curfews or adult supervision – game on.  It was no surprise we were fucking each other every chance we could get.

Over the years, as we explored, I kept feeling that teenage girl with her book creeping out – needing to get all the way out of that hidden place.

While it took years, it is so amazing being able to have those moments – have those chances to melt when someone grabs me by my hair.  My body responds when someone takes control – when someone pushes my boundaries – and crawls inside my head.

And the pain element – oh, the pain element – another part of myself that was allowed to come out.  I was always the tough girl growing up.  Little did anyone realize but I liked the bruises – liked those little reminders of pain.  It was weird until College.  Then it was accepted as badges of honor as a coach once told me.  Feeling sore after sex – after rough play – and I was a happy camper.

It’s funny how much of ourselves we hide when we don’t think what we enjoy is acceptable. When we are kinky – and we can trace that kink back through the years. I look at how much I suppressed.  And it was when we would get invited to a private swinger party, and the host would only play with me – because I loved to be bitten and pinched and have my hair pulled and be fucked hard and long as he played with me – yeah, it was clear I was a favorite for that reason. I was kinky and willing to play that way – and he was trying to downplay his own kink.

Finding community and embracing my own kinky ways has been good. I still am trying to come out with them – trying to shine light to the things I’ve hidden all of these years. I am grateful for those who I have played with that have helped me bring them to light.  I hope it continues. Because I’m a kinky woman – a dirty woman who is game for a lot …..I can only hope I find people to bring it out.

Because I cannot bury my kinky self now that she has played.

She wants more.  She needs more.

4 Comments Add yours

  1. jfbreak says:

    If only I could go back to myself in high school. I always thought there was something sexy going on in the minds of those bookworm girls. Now we know the truth!

    1. emmyrtws says:

      Hey, never assume because we are bookish or geeky that we aren’t sexual.
      You missed out 🙂

  2. simplicity says:

    I was that teenage girl too. Always with a Harlequin or some kind of “bodice-ripper” in my hand. And recently I’ve begun exploring some kinks. Great post and I’m now following you.

    1. emmyrtws says:

      Thanks for the comment! Isn’t it funny how those bodice rippers at the right age can prompt some, uhm, exploration? 🙂

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