smut theory


I called him from a payphone on a beach.  He kissed me once, the summer I was 14.  Not sure he remembers that.  I have parts of poems he wrote as a teenager memorized, and I know a ritual name he used, when he was 16.  When his first child was born, I was on the email update list.

This old friend–I last saw him in person about eight years ago at a breakfast restaurant far, far from here.  He sent me a video of himself masturbating.  We’ve been in close contact for a time, then fallen out of touch, over and over.

Something keeps us connected.  A few days ago, he messaged me on fetlife.  He said he liked the sound file of me masturbating, so he sought me there.

It was great to read his fetlife profile.  He explains something about his sexual proclivities that makes a lot of sense, considering what I’ve noticed about him over the years.  I appreciated having those dots connected.

service top

I’d never heard the term service top, but it makes sense.  Yes, I like to top from the bottom–he likes to bottom from the top?  Maybe sort of.

I thought right away of what I’d like him to do to me.  If I could ask a service top for anything, what would I ask?

Not just any service top, though–this particular man who I’ve had feelings for, over the years.  Longing, love, tenderness, curiosity, heartache, confusion for sure.

Orgasms are wonderful, and sex is amazing, especially bdsm.  Here are some of my favorite things about it.

  • pleasure
  • healing
  • bonding
  • reward chemicals
  • self knowledge
  • pain play
  • power play
  • processing trauma
  • altered states
  • sub space
  • grounding
  • embodiment
  • learning
  • vulnerability
  • transformation
  • a thrill
  • a different way of relating than everyday “how’s the weather?”
what I most need

What I most need is cuddle.  Probably that sounds weird.  I mean ecstatic cuddle: embodied, blissful, present, honest, safe, healing, whole, tender.  Imagine ecstatic dance, but two people in bed naked, cuddling.

Not a chill, sleepy, indifferent cuddle.  I mean vivid, active, present.  Like cuddle meditation–a collaborative spiritual practice.  Advanced attentive touch.  Tantric cuddle?  We would win gold in the touch olympics.

I’m not saying chaste either–of course, sexy feelings would arise.  Sex could be possible.  I’m just saying sex wouldn’t be the goal.  Sex could be a stage in the process, but the whole intention would be something else.

the fantasy

He’d fly to visit me and make hotel reservations for four nights.  On his first full day here, I’d arrive at his hotel at 1pm.  He’d meet me in the lobby, hug me, and bring me to his room.  There we would sit together and talk for about twenty minutes.  The conversation would be easy.

I’d get a sense of his room, remember how it feels to be in his presence, feel the vibrations of his voice on my body.  Just be in the same room as him, breathing with him.

I’d ask if we could hold hands and pray.  I’d ask Mother God to bless our visit, to help us be kind to one another and enjoy one another with good intentions and kindness.


Then he would set the timer on his phone for one hour, and we’d take off our clothes.  He’d half-close the curtains that block the daylight.  We’d hug one another naked.  It would be a new sensation, as we’ve never been naked together, in all our 30 years of friendship.  I’d feel him in a new way.

Unrushed, we’d hold one another like that for a long time.  Then we’d lie down together in the bed, and we’d cuddle.  We could do many cuddle activities.  I could be the big spoon, then he could.  We could lie on our sides, belly to belly.  He could stroke my breasts, avoiding the nipples, if we weren’t having sex then.  I could hold his shoulders, pet his chest, stroke his back.

He could touch the soft fatness of my belly, and gently caress my huge hips.  I could hold his ass, and he could rub his hands on my huge ass.  Without much language, I would explore his body, and he could explore mine.  Without words, I’d offer him my body, to touch thoroughly, in a way that felt curious and safe.

The underlying message would be: here I am, an animal, to be an animal with you.  For this hour, I’m showing up with you.  Sexual desires can be present and important, but for now, we’re cuddling.

I would learn about his leg hair, the sound of his breathing.  I’d like to kiss his collar bones and touch his knees.  His dick would be erect or not erect–maybe he masturbated soon before my arrival.  I’d like to kiss his hands.


Then the alarm would go off.  We’d get out of bed and take a five minute break, to stretch, maybe pee, and feel how it feels not to touch, after touching for an hour.  I’d slowly walk around the hotel room, feeling my pain level and moving my arms around.

“Is another half hour ok?” I’d ask.

“Yes,” he’d say.

I’d drink some water and smile, then slide into bed, as he slid in beside me.  Learning one another in a new way, we’d collaborate on more beautiful cuddle.

This time he would kiss my collar bones.  He’d feel them with his hands, then kiss them gently, many times.  I’d breathe and allow myself to feel those kisses all the way into my soul.

Then I’d stroke his forearms, imagining the small bones of his wrists.  I’d massage his calf muscles, getting to know them, feeling gratitude for their hard work, so simply and quietly.

I’d feel grateful for this opportunity to thoroughly cuddle my friend, and when that half hour was over, we would get out of bed and dress again.  We’d talk for twenty minutes again.  I’d ask him how it felt to cuddle like that, and what else he was up to.  The foods he’d been eating, was he sleeping ok.  Was it good to be in another town, for a few days.

He’d walk me downstairs, where my spouse would arrive to pick me up.


He’d txt me that night to ask how I was doing.  I’d say I was doing great and looking forward to more.  He’d reply that he was feeling great too and would see me at 1 pm the next day.

As I slept that night, I’d process the care I’d received from my friend.  I’d take it into myself and let it become part of me as I dreamed.  It’s a joy, to know another person.  So much of my life is about language.  The low language way of knowing would be a different pleasure than usual.

day two

The second day of cuddle date, my experience of my friend’s body would have more richness to it.  Yes, I know this body.  I’d use a different attention, not as dazzled by the newness.  I’d comprehend him better.

So we would do similar things, but with more awareness.  I’d enjoy the conversation at the beginning, my body happy to know what I was about to receive.  My cunt would ache with desire for more tenderness and safety.

We would take off our clothes again, and feel the joy of our closeness.  I’d soak in his attention and care, and he could feel the same for me.  Not building something long term–no thoughts of a future.  No desire to live with this person or need a lot from him.  Just doing a specific, therapeutic thing.

What a refreshing change, from the intense family love I’ve been longing for, since my mom died.  Something easy and sweet with this old friend would be healing.

fork in the fantasy

Here my fantasy forks, so the third day, we would allow our cuddle to go in a sexy direction.  Happily, he would touch, lick, and suck my nipples, pleasing these beautiful tits he’d been near for hours now.  He’d be pleased to hear me moan, as he stimulated me to extreme arousal.

Then he would put on a condom and fuck me, with all the force his body held.  I would be very, very happy to take his dick, and be filled by this man who I’ve wanted in various ways for decades.

Yes, it would be great to enjoy sexual pleasure with him and not fall in love with him, project a lot onto him, or idealize him.  Maybe we’ve known one another long enough that the time for that is over, and we could have sex without me glomming onto him like a fucking limpet.

Not to speak ill of myself or speak ill of limpets.  Love to all who cling and all who need.  I refuse to hate myself for anything!  But yeah, it would be sweet to do something different.


It would be safer to have no sex that third day.  Again we would cuddle an hour.  But after our break, that last half hour in bed, he would pray for my body.  He would touch each part of me, and pray to Mother God to bless that part of me, and thank her for all the good my body has done.

Then I would pray for him also, touching all the parts of his body.  That would be the only time I intentionally touched his naked balls and dick.  It would be a sweet pleasure, to bless him there.

When he walked me downstairs this third time, we’d hug goodbye for a long moment.  We’d look into each other’s eyes and feel grateful for the nurturing experience.  He’d check in with me the next day, and again check in when he was home.  I would not be in love with him, but stronger in myself, for all I’d given and received.


What do you think?  Pretty kinky, huh?  What would you ask a service top for? What do you most need?

By Nest

Curious, disabled Earth Goddess, telling the truth.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *