People often ask me which of my sexual encounters is the “weirdest”. As someone who is rarely phased by deviance, I often have a difficult time answering, despite having experienced things that most people would consider absolutely ridiculous. Sure, I’ve put a man in a chastity belt – but to me, that’s more sexy than strange. My intention in listing these snapshots is not to mock these men’s desires, although I do occasionally laugh at the absurdity. I simply want to normalize; to reiterate that there is absolutely no shame in seeking out sexual gratification among consenting partners. In fact, I feel a certain amount of awe and gratitude that I have had the privilege of witnessing these men’s sexual secrets.
Samantha, my idol
There’s the man who had me instantly on my knees, at his mercy. He pulled me around by my hair, slapping literally every part of my body, gagging me with his fingers, until I was dripping with the combination of fear and expectation, at which point he would force orgasms out of me in the most delicious way, calling me his “beautiful, beautiful girl”.
There’s the man who wanted me to hold out my hand so he could slap his dick against it, and subsequently bend his cock back and forth, while staring at his reflection in the mirror as he stroked himself.
There’s the man who wanted to lick, worship, and smell my bellybutton – of all things.
There’s the man who needed his balls squeezed – hard – while his cock was stroked – tightly – at a very specific angle. He wanted to be dominated, but was also extremely bossy – a rather difficult combination to successfully maneuver.
There’s the man who wanted his nipples twisted, pinched, pulled, bitten as painfully as possible without actually removing the nipple, while he jerked himself off. That’s it – just extreme nipple play.
There’s the man who wanted to hear all about my most recent poop – the gritty details: How long was it? What color was it? How thick was it? How smelly was it? Did I want an enema? Had I ever given a brown shower?
There’s the man who wanted to be laughed at about what a horny, dirty old man he was for jerking off in front of fully clothed women, while he repeated, “You’re a beautiful, SEXY woman, you’re a beautiful, SEXY woman”, and had me scratch his balls the entire time.
There’s the man who recounted stories about all of the women in his life who “want” him: his doctor, his dentist, his coworkers, his neighbors, his daughter’s friends, the nanny who walked in on him jerking off – and stayed to watch. He liked to think that all these women were just dying to jump on his cock.
There’s the man who liked to play a mixture of black jack and truth or dare. If I won the round, I’d ask him truth or dare; if he won, he’d ask me. He’d simply stand there, touching himself through his clothing during the entire conversation. I never once saw his dick; he claimed it “built suspense”, and he came in his boxer briefs.
There’s the self-proclaimed foot fetishist who was also dominant – a highly unusual and baffling combination. He’d spank me with my shoe and order me around, while simultaneously sucking on my toes and massaging my feet.
There’s the submissive who simply wanted to be at my feet – licking my shoes and kissing my legs, while on a leash. He liked getting slapped and could only orgasm with a heeled foot pressed firmly against his dick, at which point he would respectfully spill his ejaculate onto a paper towel so as not to mess up my shoes.
There was the man who was obsessed with making me squirt – and boy, did he know just the spot. His fingers were like magic, and he seemingly never got tired of making me orgasm.
There was the man who claimed to have “the perfect dick for anal”, because it was long and thin. He tried desperately to convince me that I’d love it – with him – if I just let him do it, just once.
There was the man who liked to be told how pathetic and tiny his dick was. He wanted me to mock him for being unable to please any women – despite the fact that his cock was perfectly average and undoubtedly capable of pleasing someone.
There was the man who wanted his cock to be teased for hours, tied up, sensually tortured, while I told him how I wanted to lock him in a room and tease him for days, until he simply couldn’t take it anymore, and then he would ejaculate on his own face, forced to eat his own semen.
There was the man who wanted to be smothered by my ass – literally smothered – for hours. Unable to breathe, squirming underneath me, while I read the news on my phone and occasionally remarked what a good seat his face was.
And finally, there’s the man who fantasized about being raped in the ass by several men. He wanted to be used by his “mommy” as a whore so that she could pay her rent; to be simply a hole for men to fuck and ejaculate into. He wanted to be given STDs, to be drugged and completely incoherent, to be used and treated like scum – all so that he’d be useful to his “mommy”.
As confusing, disturbing, upsetting, ridiculous, or silly as these may seem, there’s nothing inherently wrong about any of them. Simply because someone finds something distasteful or offensive or “weird” does not render it morally defective. A judgmental reaction to these sexual acts merely demonstrates different tastes or sheer misunderstanding, and ought to be kept in check. Let’s all live by the words: “whatever tickles your pickle”!
