There was blood everywhere. I’m talking knife to the jugular level. It looked like a friggin’ crime scene. I felt like we were in an episode of CSI. I left a bloody handprint on her white wall.
She was already wearing the strap-on when I arrived. She was walking, living, breathing sex, definitionally. No joke. If you look up “Sex” in Merriam Webster’s dictionary, her picture is there.
Her hands clutched my upper arms. Once our skin touched, it was all over. With the potent electricity and excitement of being together, we skipped foreplay and went in for penetrative sex immediately.
My first reaction post-blood was to act embarrassed, but the sheepishness was feigned. I felt like I was supposed to be worried and upset, but I wasn’t. I was turned on. I didn’t care about the mess. There was something so raw and animalistic about the whole thing. It didn’t take long for her to realise I wasn’t freaked out (or in pain, BTW). She admitted to being very into the blood too.
It’s called blood play, but information on it is pretty sparse. If you Google it, you’ll mostly find information on donating blood to the Red Cross and HIV statistics. Not helpful. Still, I wanted to know everything there was to know. Because I haven’t stopped texting this woman about blood sex.
This whole accidental experience had put blood on my mind. What is it about blood? Am I a freak for being so very into this? Why are people into it? Wait – are people into it? If I wanted to have it again, what would I have to do to make it happen?
What is blood play, first of all?
Now, you might have read the anecdote above and wondered what the actual f**k I was talking about. That’s OK. Like I said, there isn’t much information out there about using blood during sex. Blood inspires strong reactions in people. I had a boyfriend who legit fainted when he saw blood. I once started my period during sex and he went pale and nearly puked. LOL, good times.