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I don’t call J my boyfriend. He is not a boy and is not my friend. He’s my man. I correct people if they refer to him as my boyfriend. I am his, his main girl, his woman, his kitten, his bottom bitch.
Before J, I was juggling 3-4 guys, each for over a few months. I loved dating and wasn’t looking for a relationship, but something with consistency. I just wanted to spend time with a guy I had fun with, liked, and had bomb sex with. I was trying to weed them down to just one, but my top two both ended up fizzling out. I was already more confident in myself and with dating than ever before and I loved the thrill of the chase, butterflies, getting all pretty for a date, having someone to text… Girlie shit.
The two official relationships I’ve been in were both awful. I was much more immature and had never actually played the field, didn’t know the type that was good for me – I committed to the first losers who would take me, who couldn’t appreciate all I was willing to do for them. In summary, I like to think now I was searching for a man like J to give me a wakeup call. If I hadn’t met him, I would have casually dated indefinitely until I met a man with Alpha qualities who fully allowed me to be the submissive woman I am today. That’s what I’ve always wanted, but never knew I could have.
Did J set up a frame from the beginning?
Yes, or definitely the gist of it. I knew within the first week of dating J that he would not be monogamous with one girl, planned on traveling the world within 2 years, & would never let a girl hold him down.
After our first date, I didn’t really think about what those things meant long term – they didn’t matter. All I knew was that I wanted to see him more and would do anything to see him again.
How did things get more serious? What challenges did time bring?
We started hanging out maybe twice a week and I started to spend the night more often and come over after work, etc. I was absolutely addicted to him. I have never wanted someone more in my life. Around 2 months after we met, we went to Vegas together for the 4th of July. I already loved him by then and was terrified of my emotions. I knew J didn’t want permanence and I told him (in a beautifully tragic drunk cry) that I thought I should get out now before I would be completely crushed. Oh yes, I also told him I loved him for the first time.
Other girls weren’t the focus here; it was my too powerful connection to him. When we got home from the trip, he told me that since it’ll hurt either way so why not prolong the happiness, but the decision was entirely mine. He didn’t pressure me one way or another. I think all women want a boy to stand up and fight for them – “No don’t leave me! You’re wonderful. I want you in my life! You have to stay!” And I half expected him to, but when he didn’t, it really was up to me. After he took me upstairs and fucked me silly, I decided to stay. It came down to seeing him making changes in me (health, happiness, drive, goal setting…) and I knew keeping him in my life would make me a better person. Or maybe my doped up lady brain just wanted to get pounded a few more times. Haha. Continue reading