My last girlfriend, and my delusion

I thought my last relationship might develop into a femdom one. There certainly were some aspects that seemed to be working that way. In my mind, anyway.

K and I met through a mutual friend about a year ago. There was a pretty strong sexual chemistry between us. We flirted right away, then started dating. We enjoyed each other’s company in a lot of different ways—dinner, conversation, movies, nature walks. We fell quite naturally into the traditional courtship roles. I did almost all the driving and paid for nearly everything. And we both enjoyed it when I helped K with her coat and opened doors for her. This was quite a change for me. Most of the dating I’d done since my divorce (and even before my marriage) had been so consciously 50-50. With K I enjoyed the distinction in our roles.

And kissing, oh, did we enjoy kissing. Our early dates would end with some serious face time on her couch. I would press on, trying to put my hand here, or kiss her there, and she would set the limits. She clearly enjoyed my attention. I would tell her that I wanted more, but it was up to her just how far we went. If I was allowed to mouth her nipple though her bra, I would do so with gusto until she pushed me away. K got aroused, but she stayed in control. In control of herself, and in control of me. She did notice and approve of my erection, which I pressed against her through all our clothes. I enjoyed focusing on her pleasure, declaring and displaying my desire, and accepting her guidance.

It took us two months to get from first kiss to first nudity. Along the way I got to worship her feet. This started with a footrub, and then I kissed her toes. When she reacted well I licked and sucked her toes, and soon I was eagerly pressing my face into one sole and my still-clothed cock into the other. K described one particularly hot foot-worship session as, “the most fun I’ve ever had with my clothes on.” I beamed, so happy to have pleased her so well. And she was in no hurry to go any further, so we had more clothes-on fun the next time.

Eventually K decided to have sex with me. Our love-making included intercourse, and large doses of my tongue at her pussy, on her feet, and eventually up her anus. K never licked me any of these places. And K liked it that I shaved my genitals. She had a full bush. All this imbalance felt very right to me.

I also did some chores for K. I shoveled her walk several times, and picked her up from the airport. Nothing huge, but it was all one way. And when she thanked me, I always told her I was glad to help her.

This relationship was working very well for me as a submissive, even though we hadn’t talked about us in those terms.

Eventually we did. The impetus was K sharing some personal and potentially embarrassing information about herself. I was touched by her openness and trust, and I decided that I couldn’t continue being in stealth submission with her. Next date, I told her “how our relationship is working for me”. She listened and asked some questions, but it was clear she was taken aback by my confession. As my therapist later put it, she got weirded out.

We didn’t have sex that night. K wasn’t feeling well, so I took her home early. (She had told me she wasn’t feeling well before I unloaded on her. I regret that I didn’t choose the time more carefully. I was focusing on my desire to spill my gut, rather than her need to have a low-key, uneventful evening. I even told her I wanted to try bondage with her, and she just furrowed her brow.)

The next time I saw K she had more questions for me. In particular, would I be willing to see her therapist with her? (Yes, of course.) So I found out that I seemed unhealthy to her. She also told me she was going to have to think about whether she wanted to continue dating me, or not. And she refuted every single example of what I thought had been a D/s dynamic between us.

All my driving and paying and opening doors—that’s how it was with every man she dated. No 50-50 for her.

As for my oral attentions, she had no interest in sucking my toes or licking my ass, so that’s why it didn’t happen, and it didn’t mean anything beyond that. She might have gone down on me, but I’ve got genital herpes, and she was just being careful. She had made that limit clear before we got naked.

My shaving made it possible for me to improvise barriers for her protection during intercourse. I’d put large band-aids on the places near my penis where I sometimes get outbreaks. I’m not sure how effective this would have been if I had had an outbreak during our intimate times. But it was her protocol, so I complied and presented myself to her. But to K this was about herpes, not D/s.

And the chores? She appreciated my help, but there was no larger meaning for her.

The D/s aspects were entirely in my imagination. And once we talked about them, it ruined things for her. Next time I saw K, she broke up with me.

It ended badly. K was angry with me. She said it seemed like I was trying to break up with her, dumping all this stuff on her. And maybe I was. As I told my vanilla friends, I liked K and enjoyed her company and we had a lot of fun together, but I never felt like I was in love with her. So maybe I unconsciously pushed her, to either adopt my ways or be done. Maybe I knew that she’d never be the woman I really surrendered to, so I wanted to either get some more jollies (bondage), or cut my losses and move on.

I often doubt myself. And my relationship with K makes me wonder if I really do want to submit to a woman. But I’ve decided that the lessons are 1) K just wasn’t the right woman for me (and I certainly wasn’t the right man for her), 2) I need to be more careful about what I assume. More verbal would help, too. And 3) I need to be more considerate of the woman’s needs at all times, even when the conversation is about me.

I’m still trying, still learning, and still glad for the opportunity.