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“I’m already pregnant, so yeah, I wanna seize this opportunity.”
“Fuck,” he smiles then adjusts himself under the sheet. “Just the thought of it...”
A giggle escapes me as desire creeps into my belly. “I was tested when I was at the hospital last. I’m clear too.”
I lose track of Rafael’s devilish grin when he lowers himself to kiss my neck. “We,” I breathe. “We should talk about other things. Like what we want and what we don’t.”
He kisses up the column of my neck. “I already have a BDSM limits document filled out.”
“You do? I didn’t know you were into that. I’ve always…wanted to explore that,” I pant.
When he pulls his mouth off and stares at me with round eyes, I want to protest. “Really?”
“Yeah. I’ve only read about these things or listened to erotic audios,” I admit. “But I’ve never felt comfortable enough with a sexual partner to ask.”
“But you have an idea of what you like?”
“Oh buddy, I have more than an idea.”
“I am very interested to know. Do you want me to send you a blank version of the limits form I have?”
“Yes please,” I smile, as those butterflies start multiplying.
He grabs his phone from the ground and taps away. “There. Sent you a blank and mine.” He pushes up and pulls on a pair of old rugby shorts over his boxer briefs. “Why don’t you relax and read them over while I make breakfast.”
“Okay,” I say, snuggling into the bed a little deeper. “So we’re doing it, huh? Just two best friends, sharing our kinks with each other?”
“Totally normal stuff,” he grins, then ducks to exit the tent.
Opening his filled-out form, I eagerly read every word and his interest level for each activity. We seem to share a lot of interests, but one thing in particular catches my eye.
Switch.
The pounding in my heart catches up to the throbbing ache in my pussy. He’s a switch—which means he likes to dominate, and he likes to submit.
Fuck yes.
The thought of Rafael dominating me… Oh my god. I’d be drunk with lust. But the reverse is just as alluring. Him submitting to me? I need that.
Reading further down the document, I start to wonder if he’d let me… Bingo. That’s happening.
This is fascinating. It’s like knocking down a wall in a home you’ve lived in all your life and discovering a secret room—or a kinky sex dungeon.
When I get to the end of his list, I realize some things weren’t covered. I call out to him from my comfy spot. “Hey, Raf? Would you be into financial domination?”
He chuckles. “I don’t know. Why?”
“I once read about a Leprechaun king who was into that. It was hot.”
“Your mind is a fascinating and deranged place, you know that Ang?”
“That’s not a no,” I tease.
“Let’s table that.”
By the time we’re sitting for breakfast, perched back on our downed tree next to the water, I’ve completed about a third of my own form, but I notice myself holding back with my real answers and interest levels. Debating over how much of my desires I should show Rafael.
When would I ever get the chance to act out my real desires? What if I end up marrying someone who only likes vanilla sex? There’s nothing wrong with vanilla sex—I enjoy it immensely too—but I want to explore this part of me that I’ve only been able to experience in Romancelandia.
