Married with kinks

The Safe Word

If I knew someone about to get married I would tell them this: Kinky sex is to a good marriage as bus schedules are to buses. Which is to say, there might be some relationship but I don’t have good goddamn what it is. I was a late bloomer to this kink thing. Well, not so late that I wasn’t tying myself up and an inventive little masturbator from a young age, but it took me a while to come out to my partner.

On the other hand, I’ve been married for a while. I’ve been married since lumberjack beards were cool the second or third time around. That’s how I know it takes a profoundly incurious person to make a long term commitment to another human and not, some naked night, reach around and probe an alternative orifice with a finger and a quizzical monkey look. Or “find” some handcuffs under the hotel bed on a drunk weekend in New Orleans. These things happen and they’re just fine.

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photo / avlxyz Creative Commons licensed: Attribution-ShareAlike 2.0 Hey now 

I think I was slower than most. I didn’t have the cajones to make those clumsy moves until my partner had practically tattooed it on her labia: Ask Me Anything. Without her judicious use of porn, the Internet, and a store called Forbidden Fruit, we might have never made it. Even so, it took years. I regret that. Maybe it was religious hang-ups, a surfeit of caution or plain laziness but it took us way too long to take our natural chemistry and creativity and let it run wild in the bedroom (and beyond).

How did we do it? Reading columns like this one, actually. Sex blogs. It’s amazing what people will reveal anonymously. Talk and practice and more talk and more practice. Then, although there are plenty of kinksters that never take their fun outside the four walls of their own home, we eventually decided to explore the public BDSM scene.

What can I say: Exhibitionism is a probably the #1 kink. Like JCM said, Voyeurism is participation.

I assume every marriage (or whatever long-term relationship you hook your wagon to) has got a little twist, even when it’s kept in the bedroom or in the bathtub or out behind a really big boulder at the state park. Somewhere in there we’re all monkeys with errant fingers.

My partner and I are still learning and doing a lot of it the hard way. We’re in the deep end of the pool. There’s jargon to know, tools to learn, emotions to confront. We wear floaties when we need to. One thing I know for sure is that we’re done wasting time.

And plus I have this other kink: to share with you what I’ve learned and how I’m learning it. Here you are reading my words, being part of my kink. That’s so wrong.

About the author The Safe Word columnist RC McCloud welcomes your feedback, tips, love letters, and comments. Send mail to rc.mccloud at thatotherpaper dot com.

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