This morning I had a brief window of time in which no one else was home. I decided to take a long hot shower. I let the water beat down on me, caressing my sore muscles. I savored the smooth feel of soap on my skin. Unsurprisingly, I decided to bring myself to orgasm. As I guided the stream of water to my clitoris, an image suddenly sprung to mind of a device that Harold made to help himself get off and recently decided to share with me. It’s basically a dildo on a three-foot-long stick. There in the shower, the thought of that cock-stick really got me going, but I found it difficult to mention it to Harold later.
I can see so much potential for this implement. I could be fucked remotely. I could be positioned in such a way that I can only get the tip inside myself. I could be teased mercilessly then finally fucked hard while I come like crazy. It could be used anally, as Harold intended. Or I could be bound, suspended from the ceiling, impaled on the cock-stick, and stimulated on the nipples and clit.
We ended up doing that last one, but it was rough getting around to it. Harold and I are pretty adventurous, but we have our comfort zone as far as power exchange. Almost everything we do is directed at Harold. I tend to Top. It was uncomfortable for me to want to do something that let Harold be totally in control of me. I felt very vulnerable asking for what I wanted because the fantasy felt private and I wasn’t sure what he would think. I was scared of being rejected or ridiculed, not because of Harold, but because these things are so deeply ingrained. We normally just do things. This thing I had an emotional attachment to.
Because I was nervous, I mentioned it to Harold lightly, with humor and sexiness. He seemed to respond in a positive manner. I mentioned that we should take the cock-stick down to the cabin with us for our date. He forgot and I had to remind him. I felt more nervous, but still okay. We got down to the cabin and started talking. I explained exactly what my fantasy was – that it’s a big turn on to be almost penetrated for a while and then really fucked. That I wanted to be tied up. He reacted in a way that felt like rejection to me.
Now, I know down to the ground that Harold loves me, respects me, honors my sexuality, and wants me to fulfill my every fantasy – but this is one of the first times I have brought something to him that had a lot of emotional baggage for me. What he actually said to me was that he didn’t think my idea would work very well in terms of getting me off. What I heard and felt was that he thought my fantasy was foolish and not worth trying. Additionally, I must be a very bad person to even suggest it. Woah!
I didn’t unpack all of this reaction at the time. I calmly explained again what I wanted to do and why it would indeed get me off. And it worked. We did what I wanted. I was extremely excited and turn on. It was amazing! I had an incredible orgasm. It felt so good to take this fantasy that required another person and actualize it.
Afterwards, I felt sad. Harold and I laid on the bed, wrapped around each other and I suddenly felt like crying. I acknowledged all of those feelings of rejection that I’d stuffed before. We talked through it and I could see that Harold had not really said the things that I had imagined. He finally got how open and vulnerable I had been with him. He apologized for not being more aware. We worked it. He told me a hundred times that I’m okay. And I am okay.
It makes me wonder about everyone else out there. We have it pretty good in that we can generally ask each other for what we want and secretly dream of. What about all of the people who feel like they can’t ask their partners at all? How about the people whose sexual life is carefully hidden from everyone because they live in fear and shame and longing? What do those people do? I get it, I truly do, but I’m not going to let fear and shame rule my sexuality or my life. My fantasies are mine to explore!