I like to keep her in suspense, pt. 1

I couldn't tell who was more enthusiastic about the potential: him or i. Our encounters, whether in person, over e-mail or instant message almost always landed on the planning of the evening of our quartet. I mentioned earlier here how K and i had been brainstorming on the possibility of taking our casual (if not very passionately pedestrian) conversations between the two of us (and sometimes those that included our partners) to a more interactive level. Me being the greedy, often horizon-before-the-foreground sort of person proposed an outrageous scenario wherein my girl would be the central focus of a great deal of erotic energy. K initially went along with it, but as time went on, he articulated reservations about it that i myself had not had the stomach (aka humility) to confess.

I still remember his course-changing offer. It seemed so simple yet so outlandishly exciting. In fact, the very subject of the evening was something i could never have hoped for him to present. I had aspirations that perhaps a dozen or more foursomes down the line he might present this activity as a possibility. The reasons for my reticence was because K is known not on a community-wide level for his expertise in this field of bondage, nor on a national level, but on an international scale. He has taught classes on the subject to audiences around the country. He has contributed his services to both breathtaking, commissioned works of arts and spiritual, holistic healing sessions. His talents in this avocation have exposed him to the elite of the elites within the fetish world. I literally held no water to him in comparison.

Nonetheless, i leapt at the opportunity. In doing so, i unknowingly left behind a great deal of issues i would eventually need to address. When the time came, i realized that i had uncertainty surrounding whether the chemistry of my power dynamic would mingle with that of another's, despite the levels to which i prided my ability to control myself and my girl. This is analogous to being confident in one's ability's to sing in the shower and not knowing if that confidence would travel to the "Gong Show" once you made your appearance there.

Another thorn i discovered in my jumpsuit once i landed from the thrill of the impending evening emerged in a rather provocative form. I do not like to share my girl, nor does she like to be shared. Granted, we have played on a large(r) stage, in front of multiple others (read: complete strangers) and amassed great thrills at these displays. But couple-a-couple, we had not yet attempted.

I wrestled with these existential questions in an atypical fashion. In large part, when faced with issues of great emotional contention, i come to my girl. However, in this case, i couldn't do so. It had been my decision from the very beginning of the negotiations with K:

my girl would be kept completely in the dark

It didn't make logical sense to go to her with the meat of my vulnerability but withhold the "bone" to which it clung. Anytime she asked (which was seldom because she knew she would not get satisfaction to her inquiries) about the logistics of the upcoming evening, her questions were met by a firm but playful "you aren't serious..." stare.

With enough to occupy my mental faculties, i satiated my need to organize the approaching scene. Relying heavily on K's guidance, i set myself to acquiring the necessary equipment. His expertise served as a (most likely too often-indulged) shopping spree of knowledge. Frequently, he would ask me questions about my specific wishes for each stage of the evening, and habitually, i would lean on his expertise for the answer. Quite frankly, it was like wandering into a rock concert without an instrument case and the drummer asking you how much tom-tom you felt the ampitheatre needed. "Are you serious? Oh, wait...you are. WOW."

The small but not insignificant details worked themselves out. Soon we had a date (is it really possible to coordinate four incredibly busy metropolitan schedules?) and a location (my place or somewhere else? does anyone have an animal allergy or an aversion to keeping their noise to a civil volume?). All that remained was to let years of fantasy and serious mental focus to take control of the evening, and all would be fine.

...right?

*this continues on here