V

What I wrote yesterday was fiction, something we called a "V", but for the life of me we can't remember why. It was erotic stories we'd write to each other with the unspoken intent of playing it out when we got together. That one never got played out yet, she left before we could get together. But each subsequent one would push the edge just a little, expand that ever expanding boundary. Obviously the early ones that we wrote weren't so...ummm.... intense? But they each would delve into a fantasy, or maybe search for an inner desire. I remember one I wrote that had us making love in a recording studio with Metallica's 'Forever They May Roam' pounding through the speakers - and our bodies. Throughout the story I'd intersperse lyrics from the song. She was never into this kind of music, but after reading that she just had to find and listen to that song. It still gets her juices flowing whenever she hears it now. Once she wrote me one that had to do with us both getting a body massage. She wrote how she enjoyed feeling hands work her body as she watched another woman work mine. Really work mine. This, of course, was her way of bringing up the idea of maybe introducing another woman to our sessions. But one other important aspect came from those 'V's. It set limits. By gauging her reaction to the story, I was able to determine just where that boundary was. I had introduced gagging/vomiting once before in a story and she made it very clear that she did not like that. But it did stay in the back of her mind, and later in passing, she mentioned that it did excite her in a weird way. I can only imagine what we would be into if we were able to get together on a more regular basis. Makes me hard just thinking about it.