Trent Evans Letters

Day 5: What was your first kinky sexual experience? 

Hmm, I kind of accidentally shared my first officially kinky experience in Day 3 and 4. However, there was something that happened long before then that I can relate to you for Day 5. I am a little leery of sharing this, so I will need to self-censor this just a bit – sorry about that!

When I was quite young (19) I was, as many kids are, not fully aware with regard to the subject of my sexuality. It’s ironic that as a young man, I could think of little else, yet my thoughts on the subject were unfortunately marked by the facile shallowness of youth. I like to think I was a little deeper than my friends when it came to the subject, but how can one really know? It wasn’t like I asked my friends if they got off on tying up and spanking their girlfriends!

My girlfriend at the time (truly a sweetheart, who deserved better than me) and I were always playfully wrestling, physically grappling. I know that may seem weird to some, but I know for a fact lots of couples do this, whether they admit to it or not. It was cute, an excuse to have our hands all over each other (and a way for me to subconsicously relish imposing my physical will on her). Anyway, though she was a strong girl, I was far stronger than her, and these little impromptu grapplings would only ever have one end – unless I agreed to only use one arm. In those cases I’d still win, but it would take a lot longer:)

One night we were messing around while getting dressed to go somewhere and we started up again. She was particularly feisty, and I (of course) got into it as well. I had somehow ended up crossing her arms behind her back, my hands wrapped tightly around her upper arms. I remember us just standing there a moment, she struggling against my grip and me simply holding her still. Then I marched her forward and pinned her against the wall, she grunted but it wasn’t because I’d hurt her; I think it may have simply been surprise. Hell, I was surprised myself.

Instead of letting her go though, I just held her there pressed to the wall. Her roommate was getting ready to go out too, and she was in another bedroom not 10 feet away. Somehow that made things better, more…I can’t think of the word. Let’s say interesting. She struggled again and started to say something, but I shushed her letting go of an arm and laying two fingers over her mouth. She stood stock still, shocked I think. I’d never done such a thing before. I stood there a few more moments, pressed up against her, pinning her to the wall. I released her other arm and then moved her hands up the wall, placing them above her head as if she were reaching for the ceiling.

Now, at that point I was shocked too. What the fuck are you doing Trent? Reenacting some scene from Cops? So, dumbass kid that I was, rather than ponder some deeper meaning, I just thought with my cock. I liked this, whatever the fuck this was. So I just went with it. She was wearing jeans and a thin camisole (she hadn’t yet gotten a chance to put her shirt on before we threw down). I planted my palm between her shoulder blades and pressed her hard to the wall. She didn’t resist – not one fucking iota. Unreal.

Then I reached around her hips and pulled her toward me, which left her ass sticking out awkwardly toward me. I unbuttoned her jeans (god I love tight jeans on a woman, but I digress) and yanked them and her panties down to mid thigh. I fondled her ass, squeezing her buttocks, gently pinching the soft flesh of her inner thighs. I loved her ass, what can I say? Then I got another wild idea. I pushed her hips back against the wall with the rest of her, fitting my body closely to hers, grinding myself against her naked ass. Her partial nudity while I was fully clothed was something I liked, but at the time it didn’t really register. Then I reached around and pulled her camisole up, and she did the most shocking thing yet. She helped me. She actually pulled herself away from the wall as much as my pressing hand would allow, to allow me to pull that cami up and over her tits. I don’t know where her bra was; maybe she wasn’t planning on wearing one.

I pressed her up against the wall again, hard. She gasped at the coldness of the rough painted wall on her breasts, but otherwise made not a sound. I  leaned against her, urging her to rise up on her toes, to press herself as hard as she could to that wall, with my implacable strength and weight against her. We just stood that way for several long moments, and it felt as if time had slowed down. I remember looking up at her hands, still flat against the wall, high above her, just where I’d put them. We hadn’t yet spoken a word.

Then I let her go, and she turned to me. As my hands played over her body (pretty much 24/7…) she stared at me. I will never forget how wide and  moist her beautiful brown eyes were as she gazed at me, our faces mere inches apart. I thought for a moment that she might cry, but I think it was something else entirely. She loved it. It had excited her.

Many times as we mature, there are moments in life that we later look back upon as signposts or turning points on our journey to becoming fully formed people. This was one of those times. Was it kinky? I suppose not technically; it was a man physically dominating his woman. A lot of more or less vanilla relationships have elements of this to varying degrees. But what it really served as was as an “Aha!”  moment. She actually likes this! And holy perv discovery Batman, I LOVE this!

Maybe this is technically breaking the “rules” of 30 Days of Kink a bit, but I do think it certainly relates, at least tangentially, to kink (or the kink mindset). Hope you liked reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Until Day 6…

Best,

Trent