I started telling the story of this trip (including a rough draft of this post) shortly after I returned home. I got the first two posts out before the writing of it slowed dramatically. Around that time I was starting to find it difficult to write anything; I think this was connected to my deteriorating mood, which culminated in a diagnosis of depression at the very end of 2016.
But on top of that, it’s just been difficult to write about because momentous things happened, and since both Wolf and Gawan have access to my thoughts here, those thoughts needed to be very settled before I’ll share them.
After the lengthy train journey, we arrived in Gawan’s town and drove home. I knew this whole trip was going to be a big deal, filled with one novelty after another. I’d never been to his country, never mind the big city I arrived in, his town, his house. There would be “his people”. Our travels together. And any developments that may happen in our relationship.
I was concerned about being overwhelmed by all the newness. There was little I could do about it beyond “wait and see”, but I asked him to give me a little photo tour of the homestead to help me adjust more quickly when I finally arrived. Between that and having stalked the place on Google Street View, I felt more at home out of the gate than I would have otherwise.
Usually when two people are establishing a new relationship, each knows what he or she wants to happen, but is making educated guesses about what the other person wants and is hoping those wants are complementary. This was different in that I was more sure of Gawan’s desires than my own: Gawan knew he wanted to fuck but he wasn’t sure if I wanted to, and I knew Gawan wanted to fuck but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to.
Before I left on this trip, I had decided — by rationally considering my thoughts and feelings in excruciating detail — that I wanted to have sex with him. But I was well aware that I might not feel it in the moment, or I might have an emotional landmine blow up in my face. This wasn’t a simple matter: I was choosing (ethical) non-monogamy for the first time ever and it remained to be seen whether I could and would act on that decision.
Gawan confided later that the hug at the airport had pleased him. What he’d gotten from my warmth was a certainty that sometime during the trip, and sooner rather than later, we would fuck. I wouldn’t have put it that way. I had a level of comfort with physicality that I hadn’t felt during our first trip together, but it was a sitting-on-his-lap-and-cuddling kind of feeling — intimate but not especially sexual.
Of course, I had imagined what it would be like to have sex with him. I didn’t see BDSM happening the first time. Even though it seemed to be part of our relationship, BDSM was only one (for now, small) aspect. This had to be simple, and it wasn’t going to be a scene. It would be about initiating a connection on a new, physical level. I had discarded the hotel as a possible location, which left his house. The house we were now at.
After supper we got settled, and then played around. We kissed, he gave me oral. He smacked me with the wood-and-leather flyswatter I’d bought for him months earlier, before we had even met. And we fucked.
This is the most highly anticipated fuck I’ve ever had, and the most rationally planned and considered. I had been thinking about, imagining, constructing, and musing on it for months. I’d thought very little about what it would feel like physically (it would feel how it felt and I had no particular expectations), but I imagined how it would feel emotionally from every possible angle. So how was it?
It was affectionate and kind and sweet.
It was warm and connected.
I felt safe and loved.
It was just what I needed it to be.