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Boundaries and Christine
Boundaries and Christine
I was just pondering the whole perversion continum theory - that is, the notion that what is erotic versus what is perverse is largely a matter of individual taste, discounting for the moment the legal issues that label some people's choices as "perversion".
From an individual perspective, the continuum starts with the one thing you think "okay, this is a little out there, but what the fuck, it feels good, so it's on!" and ends with thing or things that make you think "Oh hell NO dude, that is one fucking sick thing - no way in Hell would I EVER do THAT!" So, as individuals, we're probably pretty much all able to define it for ourselves, and my guess is that, save for the rare occasions that we encounter someone who manages, through a combination of charm, alcohol, begging, or cash money, to introduce a new trick to our bag and thereby expand our horizons a little bit, we probably don't deviate from the menu all that much throughout our sexual lives.
Take my friend Christine. Christine was a pretty adventurous girl from a very tender age, having discovered her predilection for other girls (or more specifically, many of her mother's women-friends), and graduating from that to members of the opposite sex, multiple partners simultaneously, to full-fledged orgies, and all this while swinging from every pole in three states and raking in the cash - much of which was sucked right back up her nose in the form of finely chopped Bolivian Marching Powder. Christine was definitely one go-go girl who paid attention to her drives and desires, and indulged them shamelessly. But her asshole was off limits.
"Fuck NO! That is fucking DISGUSTING! Motherfuckers always try to stick stuff up my fucking ASS!!! My ass is where I SHIT FROM, for God's sake!" she told me over cocktails, and not for the first time, complaining that her current Mister Wonderful had ruined a perfectly good session of doggy-style-with-clit-rub-reach-around by trying to work his manly thumb into her back door. "Is EVERY man a closet fag or are you all just shit-freaks?" I reminded her that it was a beautiful world out there, and that a lot of people who were neither gay nor poo enthusiasts liked to play with and/or have their asses played with and even stuffed with toys, tongues, penises or even, all sorts of fluids! I myself had fucked an ass or ten, and only about half the time it was my idea. She winced audibly and said "Well, not me. I like to party - you KNOW I like to party, but that shit is straight out of a men's prison movie. With a hot wet pussy right there, why bother with a germy, dirty ass?" I put the whole discussion down to "different strokes, different folks" and we moved on to other topics. In subsequent conversations over the next few months, whenever THE ASS came up, her reaction was the same, and I'm sure she continued fighting the good fight between the sheets to keep stuff out of her ass.
And then, after not having heard from her for about a month, she called out of the blue and wanted to meet up for a drink. I should have guessed it when I first saw that starry, glassy look in her eyes and the Cheshire grin that stretched the corners of her mouth to well past her ears - she was in love. Christine had met the man of her dreams, in the form of a Brazilian soccer player named Ramon, and whose particular variation of the old dilatation and currettage had been keeping her distracted and delighted for the past three weeks.
"Dude, he is so motherfucking HOT that I cream just looking at him - and the way he smells? I could just ride his leg and sniff his neck and cum in my pants!" she gushed over her SoCo and Lime. I was tickled for her - her life had not been easy, and whether or not it was her own choices of late that had added to the drama, it was nice to see her happy. But what came next almost made me fall off my barstool.
"He fucks my ass! He fucks my ass so fucking good and I cum so motherfucking hard that I almost pass out!" she said.
"Wait just a hold it here, lady - what about all that stuff you said about fags and how you'd NEVER let anybody fuck your ass, that it was dirty, disgusting, just plain wrong???"
"Those other guys were just hook-ups. Ramon and I are in LOVE!" she oozed - drawing out the syllables in "love" so it sounded like "l-u-u-u-u-u-u-v-v-v". Just talking about him had her sliding around on the seat!
When last we spoke, Christine and Ramon were coming up on one year of bliss, and he is still cornholing her round little bottom on a regular basis. "He spanks me sometimes, too - but only when I'm being really bitchy!" she cooed recently.
Just goes to show you that for the right person, even the strongest of taboos can end up by the wayside. Never say never, lest you be forced to eat your words!