Sexy Time?

Shame? Disconnection? Resignation?

Today was the first day that I've pleasured myself since really truly letting him go. Due to varying things I just never got to that point. I've fantasized, let my thoughts flow to whatever decadent corner they please and have been excited, but I just never felt the urge.

Until today.

Whether it was my body's natural way to cope with the pain or triggered by faerie's post and looking at my own pool... well my hand gravitated to my drawer of toys and my mind began to travel.

It was simple, at first, being led by my hand to a hidden room, a wondrous room filled with soft tables, cuffs, and varying implements that would make my skin sting, burn, and tingle. I was naked, yet my master was fully clothed. He wasn't anyone in particular, just mine. My man. My partner in our secret delights. His hands ran all over my body, guiding me to the plush table, bending me over, tweaking my nipples as he traveled to my buttocks.

It slowly built like this, a tease with slaps from his hands, bites from his teeth, a spreader bar between my legs and my arms bound above me. As my thoughts grew, so did my climax and soon I was almost there, breathing hard and actually moaning out loud. That's when something shifted. I was in a different room, a different hand -- Josiah's hand, Josiah's voice egging me on. Swiftly I was turned over and saw his face, with that devious grin he got when he would play with me. And felt him enter me.

And then I came. Hard. A split second later I realized what had happened and began to cry. I felt violated, like I had been raped by my own imagination. As I made myself breathe, took deep breaths to calm myself, my stomach began to churn violently. The warning signs were there and I knew where I needed to go. My gag reflex took over and I threw up. Absently I brushed my teeth, stepped into the shower and went about washing myself as well as I could -- anything I could do to feel clean again. Fresh, renewed, unsullied.

Even hours afterwards I am still trying to make peace with myself. I truly hadn't thought romantically about him since I sent him a thank you letter and gave him back our sex tape. He was just a guy I had dated. Hell, even in my errant dream I had about him the other night he was just a guy I had bumped into, a passing face I had forgotten until hugged me and said "hi." Actually, to be more accurate, when he bumped into me I recognized I was dreaming and made a weird face asking him, "what are you doing here? And more to the point, when do I dream about grocery shopping (or something equally as mundane, details are fuzzy)? My dreams are way more adventurous."

I recognize that he is my first Dom, the first man to ignite and satisfy me sexually, and as such there are things that bound me to him more so than previous break-ups and therefore a different grieving process. Especially when it comes to sex. But what happened just felt wrong. So the question is, how do I have a healthy sexual appetite, without my subconscious bringing back my only frame of amazing sex reference?