A List of Firsts

While I've got a few more of the other kind of firsts I'll be writing about, I wanted to write about this past weekend. These firsts are not of the carnal kind, but everything doesn't have to be about that.

I joined a group of campers this weekend for a trip to Pigeon Mountain. I haven't camped since my father pitched that pup tent in our backyard in mid-1960s. I might not be 100% right to call this camping trip a first, but I'm going to anyway. It would be fair to say that this was my first REAL camping trip.

There was a group of 5 of us. I knew 2, and met the organizer and his partner there. All of us arrived on Friday. By design, my phone battery was nearly dead, I shut off my work phone deliberately around 4pm. The only high tech equipment I had with me was a couple of digital cameras.

The first big first was on Saturday. The group of us hiked a trail to Rock Town. I saw some of the most fascinating and beautiful rock formations I'd ever seen. I learned that that part of North Georgia was at one time a coastline. Those rocks formed underwater. We found a rock suitable for climbing, and the group leader set us up to climb, gave us instruction, and let us go. I managed to scale my first rock, it was a climb of about 20'. It took me a few tries, but I made it up. It was great. My first rock climb.
That's not me, but it is the rock. The ass is pretty nice too.

On the way to Rock Town, we encountered a rattle snake. Thankfully, I wasn't the first person in the group, I would have stepped on it. It was stopped on the trail about 3 feet in front of us. The snake was about 2-2 1/2 feet long, and brown, grey and black in kind of a herringbone pattern. I think we startled it, it pulled back a bit like it was going to strike, it's rattle sounding an eerie and steady tone. After a minute or so, it moved across the trail back into the leaves in one of the most smooth and graceful motions I've ever seen, giving us it's permission to pass. It was the first time I'd seen a rattle snake.

On Sunday, after packing up for the trip back home, 3 of us headed off to Pettyjohn's Cave, maybe 5 miles from the campsite. I was a little nervous about this part of the trip, but now know I would have regretted not going. It was a short hike to the mouth of the cave. We geared up (helmet and headlights), and descended into a small, nondescript hole surrounded by boulders. All of the rock floor was very smooth, polished by centuries of use and covered with a layer of mud. In hiking boots, my footing was uneasy. The entrance opened up into a larger cavern. The cave floor was essentially piles of rock that had fallen over the years. Not small rocks, but large boulders. The cave had a flat ceiling, and nearly 90 degree angles where the walls started. We treked into the cave a bit. I got to a point where I wasn't confortable going further, my friends went just a bit further before deciding to come back. My first stalagtite, my first stalagmite, my first real bats, my first time in a cave.

At night, before going to sleep, I listened for the first time to the symphony of the wildlife. Bullfrogs and their honking bass in sometimes and almost perfect unison and sometimes in and almost perfect challenge/response as if they were communicating with each other. There were creatures that sounded like a banjo. The insects and birds provided the soprano voices. An occasional coyote howl brought in the alto. There were sounds I'd never heard, from animals I've never seen that filled in the tenor. When the sun came up, the birds added their voices. It's random harmonies were beautiful.

The list of firsts goes on - my first time sleeping on the hard ground because the air mattress leaked; my first time sitting perfectly quiet, staring at nothing, and absolutely loving it; the first time I wasn't terrified by a spider; the first time a 2+ hour drive went by too fast.

I almost started the trip with a fear of the unknown, but put it into my head that I needed to just let go, and absorb and enjoy every second of it. There was no bad part of the entire weekend. I loved it all...

Realization

I started this post 2 weeks ago, and never finished it.

In all my previous sexual experience, I'm realizing that I put things into boxes and forced myself to live by predefined roles. The top fucked the bottom, and the bottom serviced the top. Those definitions created some vague but serious boundaries. Versatility was there, but once the roles between me and my sexual partner were defined, they seemed to not change.

In these new experiences, the top and bottom roles seem to be a bit reversed. Whether or not there's release, the top is there to service the bottom, and the bottom is there to be serviced. That's not to say that those traditional roles don't have a place too, but they're not nearly as clearly black and white.

I've had the opportunity to be both a total top and a total bottom over the last 3 weeks. This new life is about pushing limits but respecting them at the same time, or setting limits and trusting that they'll be respected. Respect and trust become the most important aspect of every scene.

As the bottom, I have to rely on my top to push my limits and I have to allow them to be pushed, yet speak up when that limit is reached. Theoretically, if I'm going to get off, my top is going to have to somehow make sure that I do; I'm going to be incapacitated. As a bottom in this place, I have to expect that my top is getting significant fulfillment from the experience.

As the top, I am taking control of my bottom. Now it's my bottom that is incapacitated and not able to do anything for himself. It's my job to make him happy, and to get him off. In my old world, I tended to focus on the bottom more than myself. While it was me fucking him, my priority was bringing him to climax, then focusing on myself. That old tendency not only carries forward easily, but is expected I think.

As a bottom, I've been open to new experiences and my tops have helped me experience them. I think they're making me walk when I want to run really, really fast. They exhibit genuine concern for my well being. They are teaching me how to respect others when I assume the other role. They are teaching me to trust. Those elements alone are what has made the larger experience so fulfilling.

As a top, I realize now that the only limits I really pushed were my own. But that was only one experience with a person I hope to have more with. That same need to walk rather than run is still there. I can't do everything in one night, nor do I want to or should I. It's critically important that the bottom trust me. I don't think I would have done anything any differently than I did, and I think the experience was a good one for both of us.

I know that because of my limited experience I'm writing from a very narrow point of view, and that the roles are very flexible with the concept of a selfish top just a real in this world as it is in the vanilla world.  But just as I was never really fond of a selfish top (or bottom) in that old world, I think I prefer to accept the roles as I see them today.

Or maybe I'm just crazy...