The very fact that Mrs. Lion and I ever met was incredibly unlikely. That we found love was amazing. This may seem like an odd thing to say over twenty years later, but I still shake my head in wonder when I think about it.
Way back then, she lived in upstate New York. Her family had been there for ages. She was in an unhappy marriage and was feeling restless. She was determined to meet and mate with someone somewhere. Meeting me wasn’t her first attempt. I was lucky her prior efforts failed.
She put her profile on a dating site. That’s how our paths crossed.
I had been in an increasingly difficult relationship with a woman I met through a BDSM organization. She was a 24/7 self-defined slave. In fact, she was a smart, strong-willed woman who desperately needed to submit and serve. We were together for nearly ten years. I didn’t want for sex or anything else. My problem was that her needs prevented her from any sense of partnership. In her mind, she had to be property, not a partner, ever.
That sort of situation is doomed from the start. I’ve known a few couples who successfully sustained that master/slave dynamic. They did it by consciously recognizing that these were roles they were playing. In reality, they were sharing their lives. The woman I was with couldn’t make that leap. Also, I’ve always been a switch and I badly missed bottoming. That would have been easy to fix if she could live in a more integrated way.
Anyway, I was restless, too. It wasn’t so much that I needed sex as it was I needed to mate, to connect out of mutual desire and raw lust. I found the same dating site where Mrs. Lion had posted her profile. She included a picture of her face. She was smiling. I loved that smile. I took a chance and sent her a message.
She responded. I knew from past experience that it is a bad thing to have an extended online correspondence before a meeting. It’s just too easy to build up a false image of the other person. I was determined to meet in person as soon as possible. We exchanged a few sets of messages. She made it clear she wanted sex, not romance. I felt the same way. We decided to meet at a motel and have anal sex. Why? She wanted it, and I liked it too. Why not?
We met, and I was inside her less than fifteen minutes after opening the motel room door. I suppose you could say that we were two horny people who needed to get laid. It wasn’t that simple. Mrs. Lion didn’t have an orgasm from our anal sex. I did, of course. But then, I had a willing partner waiting at home. No, we might have hooked up on that first date, but neither of us understood the significance at the time.
We met again a few days later for another round of anal sex. Afterward, we talked and learned about one another. We convinced ourselves that this was just about sex. Of course, it wasn’t. When Mrs. Lion talked about plans for meetings and other things, she always said “we” when referring to us. Of course, you say. Well, no, my submissive partner only said “you.” It wasn’t an accident. She never thought of herself as sharing our lives. She belonged to me like the dog or my car. A couple of weeks after I began meeting Mrs. Lion, she moved out.
Instead of motels, Mrs. Lion came to my house, where we had various kinds of sex. She was convinced that our relationship was just sexual. I was starting to realize that there was more going on. I suspect that she knew it, too, but wasn’t ready to admit it to herself. When she tells the story, she says that it got harder and harder to leave. I wished she could stay. I wanted to have breakfast with her.
After a while, she told her husband that she was leaving and moved in with me. She filed for divorce soon after. We got married almost two years to the day after our first meeting. We’ve been happy ever since. The moral of my tale? Well, maybe it’s don’t turn down anal sex on the first date.