I thought I'd had "rough sex" before; I'd been spanked on my butt plenty of times, had my hair pulled, even been caned once while strung up with my hands over my head. That hurt, and I cried, and I liked it, because I'm submissive like that, but it was just a one-time thing. I'd had plenty of encounters with talking dirty, spinning all sorts of nasty fantasies, where, most of the time, I was on the receiving end of some very hot epithets. But I'd never wanted to be choked until I got together with the guy I'm dating now.
The newness makes me feel, to invoke Madonna for a moment, in some small way, like a virgin, like I am giving him some part of myself I've never given anyone before.
He knew I was into spanking, and we'd been friends for over a decade, so the first night we got together was plenty kinky. But from there, in the past four months, it's only gotten more intense. I don't know exactly when it started, but once he put his hand around my neck during sex, I realized I loved it. At first, it was just a bit of added pressure, almost an afterthought, somewhere else to touch me. Since then, though, it's become something I crave in a way that sometimes scares me, and I like both parts: the physical intensity, and the scariness. Sometimes, in addition to spanking my butt, he also hits my breasts, and, at my request, slaps my face. Sometimes this happens during sex, sometimes while I'm going down on him. He'll grab my hair, yank it hard, pushing and pulling me like a puppet, and I love it. Actually, love is an understatement. The more dominant he is, the further I want him to go. The Frisky: 13 Things Men Don't Understand About Women's Bodies