I Might Have Jumped

About a year ago, Daddy and I started talking seriously about how we might be able to bring more diversity to our external partners, about the idea of pushing the slightly open door a little further open.

✦✦ A Little Backstory ✦✦ 

Over the 14 years that we’ve been together, we’ve had several play partners. Most of them were women. There were a couple of couples in the mix but there had not yet been any single men or anyone who was primarily my play partner, though there had been a few who were primarily his (meaning simply that, that person and I had a now and then sort of relationship and that person and Daddy had a much more consistent and regular sort of relationship). This model of swinging / openness / somewhat poly had served us well for a lot of years. But, like everything in life, it was changing, morphing becoming something new. And we had to figure out what do with all this newness.

I enjoyed our playtimes with others. I enjoyed the sexy women we had as playmates but I found myself needing a little more freedom. I needed to be able to explore more of my own rabbit trails. I needed the freedom to follow the little tingles that people give me. Daddy recognized this need in me and in himself. He was able to see how things, in this area of our lives, up to this point hadn’t really been balanced (simply meaning that there were more women than men in our playtimes and that he had more freedom to explore budding relationships than I did). He recognized the unfairness of it, but he was also self aware enough to know that he wouldn’t handle it well if I just ran out and hopped in bed with the next guy (or 4 or 5) that I met. He knew himself well enough to know that he was going to struggle with me being with another man in  situations where he wasn’t present to protect me and keep me safe.

Even with those fears and concerns he put himself in that uncomfortable place and opened up a dialogue with me about how we could even things out, how we could make a way for me to be able to explore those little zings with other people. There were a lot of really hard conversations and more than once I almost shelved the whole idea. I hate making my Daddy uncomfortable. I hate hurting him. I hate being the cause of his distress or unhappiness and I felt like I was pushing so hard to have something I wanted that it was causing him a lot of stress. I don’t handle that well. But, we both hung in there and the conversations continued.

The thing is, that no good growth happens without some discomfort and effort. There was a lot of discomfort and effort on both our parts, and we finally came up with some ways that we truly believed would help Daddy to acclimate to me having other men in my life/ in our lives. Things that would help to keep me safe.  A set of rules and procedures that would help to keep me from being damaged or hurt.

I admit that there were times when the process we were coming up with seemed constrictive and prohibitive… moments when I was absolutely sure that he had put all those requirements in place because surely no man would ever jump through all those hoops, no man would ever be ok with complying with all those requirements. And, so my demons screamed at me that rather than being put into place just to keep me safe maybe he was putting them in place to deter any interested suitor from even trying. In my heart, I knew that wasn’t true. I knew he was making a true and genuine effort, but there were moments. I hated those moments. But in the interest of keeping things real, I include those moments.

But, no matter what reason was behind it, it was progress. More progress than we had had up to that time and I held tight to the hope that one day someone might be willing to try. We found the middle ground and agreed to a set of guidelines that we both felt would allow me enough freedom to explore and provide him with the comfort that I would be (mostly) safe and that I would come home to him undamaged.

Now… had I been left to my own devices in this choice, had Daddy said, “I don’t care what you do. Go wherever you want. Do whatever you want with whoever you want. Fuck everything that moves, if you want” If he had left it all up to me to choose my new play partners with no guiding requirements, I might have jumped. I might have jumped in with both feet, finding myself hip deep in every kind of bad choice possible. I might have made poor decisions, because sometimes I do that… not because I am incapable of making good decisions, but because I struggle to see evil or malintent in people. I can be (and usually I am) very naive and trusting when it comes to the intentions of other people. Add to that, that I have generally made rash and dangerous decisions when it came to sex and relationships and there is a possibility of finding myself in some very bad situations.

jumped_2I am a have all the experiences kind of girl. Given the freedom to do anything I wanted without regard, I might have exercised very poor judgement, rushing towards any and every experience whether they would be good for me and my primary relationship or not, whether they would end up breaking me into thousands of pieces or not, whether I would end up with long term physical or emotional repercussions or not. I would have rushed towards them and I, very likely, would have come out the other side of each of those encounters a little more jaded, a little less vibrant, a little less full of life, a little less trusting, a little less innocent, a little less myself.

I have a history of making bad decisions when it comes to sex. I’m not even sure that Daddy knows about a lot of them (things that happened before I met him), but there are some very, very bad decisions in my sexual history. Decisions I’m a little shocked that I survived. Decisions that could have changed my life. Decisions that put me in danger physically and emotionally. I survived them.

I, no doubt, could have survived any bad decisions I made in this new territory as well, but… My Daddy loves me enough to have put some guidelines in place. He set some rules up for me to follow to keep me safe. He drew a line, a few lines, and any man who wanted to be a part of my life had to (has to) be willing to find each of those lines and only hand in hand with both Daddy and I cross them into the next stage.

It seemed unnecessarily complicated and difficult at the time. It was frustrating. I wanted to run, full speed towards my freedom to explore. I wanted to make my own decisions. I wanted to embrace every experience. I wanted all the feels. Looking back now, I can see the foolishness of that.

I really do think the world is full of wonder. I truly believe people do things with other people’s best interest at heart. I get stuck in the thinking that there is goodness and good intentions in everyone.  I cannot see the danger until it is too late, usually. Since entering into the world of kink and BDSM, Daddy’s rules and warnings have saved me from myself numerous times. His insistence on keeping me safe and setting rules and guidelines in place that have that intention at their core have made me more careful, have made me give deeper thought to the circumstances of any given situation and often caused me to pause… poised to jump into the deep end, ready to plunge in with both feet and take a deeper breath, to stand up and back away a little, taking that one extra moment to see the situation for what it really is. Sometimes, even going so far as to back all the way out of the situation and often it turns out that, that was the best thing that could have happened. Because of his guidelines, because of the rules he established, because of the reminders he gives me that not everyone has good intentions… not everyone has my best interest at heart, I was kept safe.

And, it turns out that I don’t need every experience. I don’t need to jump off every cliff, jump into every deep end, to plunge both feet first into every tingle that crosses my path in order to find excitement and thrills in this life of mine. I can be selective. I can be careful. I can let Daddy protect me and keep me safe and still enjoy the rabbit trails. And, even with the restrictions and safety measures in place, I did meet someone. Someone quite wonderful. Someone who took the time to ensure that Daddy was and is ok with each new step of our relationship. Someone who cares about me and cares for me. Someone who is careful with me and respects Daddy’s place in my life. Someone who is protective over me and insists that I make good decisions for myself. Someone who takes our relationship and my needs and Daddy’s concerns seriously. He has been wonderful every step of the way.

So I take a moment today to thank the two most important men in my life.

Zeke for being so wonderful and so patient and so willing to put in the time and effort to date me. Thank you for being careful with me and for holding me to higher level of excellence. Thank you for taking the time and doing the things it takes to create the trust I’ve come to have in you. Thank you for being so good to me. I only hope that I can continue to be worth the effort and maybe even return some good into your life. 😉

And my Daddy for insisting on keeping me safe, even when I resist and fight and pout. Even when I’m being defiant and stubborn, I love the way you love me. I love the way you worry for me and all the things you do to keep me safe and make my life better. Thank you for loving me enough to keep me safe from my own bad decisions and insisting consistently that I keep to the protocols we’ve set into place. Thank you for loving me enough to let me explore, for giving me the ability to really experience my life on every level and for being my safe place to fall, for being home to me.

I love you both and I love our life, filled to the brim with love and laughter and experiences and people who never cease to amaze me and fill my heart with wonder.


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