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I pulled out the two dresses I'd brought with me — both of them sluttier than anything I'd wear at home, but AC seemed to call for it — and my boyfriend started unpacking his bags.His dress shoes and button-downs came out first but were quickly discarded.The waitress did a double take when he ordered a second round, I’d kiss him.

” We looked at each other, smiled awkwardly, and got out of there.

“That may have been the first time I was sexually harassed,” he said, smiling.

This went on for a little while as he polished off two glasses of neat scotch and I nursed my whiskey and ginger ale.

He’d think someone was looking at us strangely, I’d kiss him.

He drinks beer and whiskey, doesn't dance when we go out, plays far too many video games, and all-in-all is a dude's dude.

Which is why I was pretty surprised one night when, after leaving our friends at a bar to go smoke a joint on an East Village stoop, he pulled out his phone to show me pictures of a strangely familiar looking girl pouting at the cellphone's camera.

We bought toys, planned vacations, and dirty-talked our way through how to make realities of scenes that both of us had accepted would always just be fantasies.

We both knew that there were people out there who shared our kinks, but had only been brave enough to explore them anonymously over the Internet.

I'd been asking boyfriends to tie me up, hold me down and hit me harder since high school, and my tastes had escalated at a pretty steady pace.

But when one of my best friends revealed to me that he had a hidden stash of makeup and panties, I was intrigued.

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