Page 40 of The Other Side of Paradise

She laughed. “This is why it’s good to talk about it. Otherwise you end up all stuffy and awkward. C’mon, your turn.”

My turn? Was it my turn again already? Jesus. She gave me a shove on the shoulder.

“C’mon, there’s something on your mind. Just spit it out. It’s less embarrassing the less you overthink it.”

“Praise.”

She grinned. “Like a praise kink?”

“Uh, basically. I dunno.” I put a hand over my eyes. “Normally I don’t want to be loaded up with compliments or I start to feel like I’m being patronized to. But, um… well…”

“But you like being patronized to in bed.”

“Well. Fuck. I don’t know. Yes, I guess. I don’t know, it feels like the power dynamic… thing…” I groaned. “I didn’t overthink it and it’s still embarrassing. I feel lied to.”

“Power dynamics are hot, though. I get that. Like it’s just never really been a thing for me, but I understand the idea.”

“What, praise, or power dynamics?”

“Power dynamics. Like, I don’t want someone taking away my power and agency. That feels gross and like… like I’m being punished. And I’m not into being punished in bed, like,oh, you’ve been a naughty girl, Daddy’s going to have to punish you.” She wrinkled her nose. “Gag.”

Gag was right. “What about the other way?”

“What, punishing Daddy?”

“Please, literally say it any other way. I mean, with you in power.”

She made a face down into the drink, where she cradled it in her lap. “Oh, I dunno… I’ve never really tried that. I’ve never done really intense kink stuff or anything.”

“How is that more intense kink stuff than the other way around? It’s literally the same thing.”

“Well, just, you know, like… it’s kinda different when it’s, like, femdom, right?”

“I’m a lesbian. It’s always femdom when it happens for me. Why would it be different?”

“Huh. I guess that’s a good point.” She laughed. “I dunno. I guess I’m just stuck on gender roles. Thinking about me taking power just feels like I should be there in ten-inch hooker heels with leather and a whip telling a man he’s pathetic and miserable.”

“Yeah, so, like, there’s really a whole spectrum… you don’t have to go quite that far.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I had a friend whose boyfriend one time wanted her to step on his balls.”

“I miss five seconds ago when I didn’t know that.”

“I wouldn’t want to do all ofthat.”

“You don’t need to become a leather-clad ball-stomping dominatrix.”

“I dunno… it just doesn’t feel like I’m cut out for it.” She sipped her drink, a long, contemplative look on her face. I’d never thought I’d see somebody have such a serious thinking face about whether they wanted to top or bottom.

“Okay, c’mon. It’s your turn now.”

She grinned. “Cowgirl.”

“Jesus,howare you so cool and relaxed just saying things like that?”

“It’s a lot of fun getting to set the pace and stuff. And if a guy is doing it then a lot of the time it’s just, you know, like… in, out, in, out, no subtlety, no finesse. When you’re on top, you get to grind and move the angle and stuff.”

“Uh… uh-huh.” I tried not to think about Stella on top. Of… well, me. I thought about it anyway. I was going to think about it again tonight. I was going to think about this conversation every night for the rest of my life, most likely.