Oral Sex

Feb 142017
 

Ocean waves

The evening wind is a gentle pressure against our bodies as we look out at the waves, the light of the full moon reflecting on the gathering seafoam. His hand squeezes mine. I tip my head to try to encompass the vastness of the sky. I feel myself expand to hold it all – the huge luminous moon, the velvet sky, the endless ocean, and his love. He holds me, kissing my face, tasting my tears. “What is the ocean to you?” he asks.

She is mother. The ocean is infinite unconditional love. She is the goddess, Aphrodite. My sadness and rage can be taken in and transformed in her waves. She is birth and rebirth. She is life.

Intense emotion rises in my core. We stand shoulder to shoulder, balanced between moon and waves. I want to scream into the waves, but it’s too hard to find the right moment to release. The pressure inside builds, but I still can’t let go. I know he feels me struggle, but he just holds the space in love. I breath in the wild ocean air, letting it penetrate and purify me. When I exhale, every shred of pain I am feeling is carried out with my voice and swallowed by the waves…

 _______

We are tangled in the sheets, wet with sweat and desire. I arch my back, pressing my ass against his erection. He holds me against him, one arm pressed against my throat, one hand pinning my hip in place. I writhe and moan because I want him to fuck me more than I can ever remember wanting anything. His voice is soft and firm in my ear, but I can’t process what he says. I am consumed with wanting. Teeth grasp hard at the junction of neck and shoulder. I flinch and cry out, then fall still at his touch…

 _______

I can’t seem to stop talking. My voice has decided that I won’t sit still and be quiet. Freed by the ocean and made vulnerable by his trust, I tell him everything about my life. I want to know everything about his. We make dinner together in the tiny kitchen that makes frequent contact necessary. We sing along with Queen and dirty dance in the kitchen. I kiss him deep as the ocean and pull back a few inches. He shudders at the energy of it, his blue eyes wide…

 _______

Reflections of TylerI can feel the rhythm of the waves in my body, desire running from my cunt to my heart and back again. Looking down at his beautiful face, I want to hold on to this moment forever. I slide his cock inside me a centimeter at a time. I am awash in love. So slowly, I rock back to take in his whole length. I want him slow and soft. His hips lift to meet me and the sensation is almost too much. I lean down to kiss his chest, but the angle is not right. Braced by his hands on my hips, I lean back, feeling the flow and ebb of the ocean building inside me. There is only this – our bodies rocking to meet each other in spasms of ecstasy, our spirits entwined…

 _______

Children run on the sand, chasing the waves then racing back screaming in delight. I am filled with a deep contentment as we walk along the beach in the sunlight. I decide that sandpipers are my new spirit animal. We laugh at how they move. We take photos of random things on the beach. I see a dog in the distance that turns out to be a log. We have to stop to kiss every few feet. I feel so present, anchored in this moment, this place, this human by my side…

 _______

We snuggle down to sleep. My body hums with desire simply knowing he is near. I wrap my arms around him, pressing my breasts against his back. I try to sleep but the scent of his warm skin make me feel drunk. The back of his neck needs kissing. He gasps when I wrap my fingers in his long hair and pull his head back. His surrender leaves my cunt soaking wet. I grind my pelvis against his ass, wishing so hard that I had a cock. We fuck energetically, tension building until we can’t stand it.

We slide the dildo into the harness and he start to give me head. My toes curl and my back arches in pleasure. I can feel him sucking my cock. It’s unbelievably sexy. “How should we do this?” he asks…

 _______

We wash each other’s hair. We rub soap all over each other, sliding around in the steam and spray of the shower, while music surrounds us. He kneels in front of me wrapping his arms around me. I feel loved and honored in his embrace. He stands up and we gaze into each other’s eyes. We kiss and the feel of him on my lips ignites my passion. I plead for him to fuck me but he laughs and tells me to wait. I go down on him instead, floating on a tide of sensation…

 _______

When we fuck, it is rough, like a wrestling match, and yet he is always gentle. We fuck all over the bed, rolling around and laughing when not utterly intent. Fucking is not close enough. I want more of him. I want deeper. I moan face first into the bed, my hands grabbing fistfuls of pillows while he thrusts into me from behind. There is no me any more, only a fierce hot need. “Use your nails!” I order, “Harder!” He complies, nearly drawing blood down the length of my back. The edge of pain pushes me into pure bliss. We both come together…

 _______

We come over and over in a spiral of building trust and learning bodies. We make love until our bodies give out. He stops mid-fuck, “How is your body doing Love?”

“My body is feeling great.” I protest, urging him to continue.

“Yes, but how is your body doing?” Oh. My body should stop.

He leans over me, with his long hair tickling my chest. I gaze up at him, full of love and desire, “Let’s be mermaids…”

 _______

Evoe and Tyler at the oceanBefore we leave, we walk along the sunlit beach one more time. I hover on the verge of orgasm, laughing and shivering with joy as each wave rushes to embrace us and we dance away. We see driftwood that looks like a sailing ship stranded on the shore. Our mood is bittersweet with the knowledge that all things must end, yet we are grateful for beginnings. Birth and rebirth. I walk into the waves to wet my hands. I touch the seawater to my face, my heart, and my cunt. I offer up my prayers to Aphrodite, “Lady, I am your vessel. Thank you for the love I have experienced. Let me be open to your flow. I will be a vehicle for love in the world.”

We walk toward the car and he takes my hand…

Jul 282015
 
Photo credit: David Steinberg

Photo credit: David Steinberg

In the stillness of early morning, I watch him sleep. It might be the first time in all the years we’ve been together that I am up before him. I contemplate getting up to make coffee, but I know he will wake up as soon as I do. I want him to sleep. He looks so peaceful and I overflow with love drinking in the details of him. He looks both strong and vulnerable. My eyes go where I want to touch him – tracing the muscles of his arms, shoulders, and back. His soft lips are slightly parted. I am filled with longing remembering kissing him last night.

Yesterday was fun. We made love all day long, my orgasms getting more intense each time. He never came, although I gave him exquisite sensations. I enjoy instant gratification but there is something to be said for drawing pleasure out for as long as possible. Watching him sleep, bits and pieces of the day before drift through my mind: snuggling in bed, the warm steady weight of his body on mine, relaxing in the hot tub, his teeth teasing my nipple, showering together, long slow lingering kisses, shocking him by licking his asshole, painting each others’ nails, tormenting him with my feet and a lot of lube, watching the sun set in brilliant color along the beach, the just-right scent of his skin, feeding each other deliciously squishy bits of mango, and what have been hours of him going down on me. All capped off by seeing a shooting star just as he told how wonderful he thinks I am.

Photo credit: David Steinberg

Photo credit: David Steinberg

Now, I can’t help myself. I have to touch him. I kiss and caress my way down his chest and belly. By the time I make it to his cock, he is groaning and mostly hard. Filled with need and desire, I am not in any mood to be slow or gentle. Gripping the base firmly, I take the entire length of him into my mouth. He communicates the intensity of his experience with his hands against my back, pressing and scratching.

I am so immersed in the moment – warm tangle of blankets and limbs, his scent and taste, the texture of his hair and skin, the hard and soft of his cock on my lips and tongue – that it takes me a bit to realize that he is begging for me to share my cunt with him. I oblige, shifting my body to straddle his face.

What had been warm desire becomes fiery passion. I am not sure whether to focus on his impending orgasm or mine. I love the rhythmic pounding of his cock against the roof of my mouth, the tightness of my lips around him, the twist of my tongue at the tip, and the quick plunge down again. But his clever tongue is doing something to my clit that I can’t ignore. I am gasping and moaning so hard I start to forget to suck.

Photo credit: David Steinberg

Photo credit: David Steinberg

I climb off of him, face down, ass up, and tell him to fuck me. He pushes my knees further apart and slowly slides into me. His hands curl around my hips, pulling me to him as he thrusts. I feel completely possessed. I’m not sure where he ends and I begin, but I am grateful that we fit together so nicely. He is pounding into me hard and fast. I am rocking back to meet him with all the force I can muster. This is the most turned on I can ever remember feeling. The sensations are fierce, the quest for fulfillment urgent, yet the pleasure feels infinite.

I like this position because it feels amazing, but I rarely come. He slows down again and I ask for the vibrator. Without pulling out, he leans over the side of the bed to grab it for me. When I turn it on and put it against my clit, we both jump. For a minute we both just let ourselves be overwhelmed. Then he starts to slowly pull out and in again. I know the vibrations are translating to his cock as well. It feels so good it’s like pain. I think I can’t stand it, but I make myself keep going…

Feb 222015
 

Reflected in the windowHappiness is being in the middle of a naked snuggle pile. I could see us reflected in the glass ceiling of the solarium: Harold and Woody both curled around me, our legs entwined, hands still roaming each other’s bodies. We made a beautiful tableau. After more orgasms than I can remember, I was feeling diffuse and abundant love. They were taking advantage of the lull in the action to geek out together over cool higher math.

My body was saturated with sensation. I was hyper aware of every touch, the unique scent of their skin, the warmth of our bodies together, the blues songs that filled the room and became part of the fabric of our existence, the taste of ginger beer spicy on my tongue and in their kisses, and the sunlight blessing us all. I could close my eyes and feel myself sustained by their strength, nourished by their love, safe in their arms. Not only do these men bring me great pleasure, they also make me relax and live in the moment.

Those moments were pretty incredible. I adored having all the extra stimulation. Being able to make out while someone goes down on me or having a cock in each hand is satisfying. It’s surprisingly challenging to give two hand jobs at once, especially since they each prefer a different style and rhythm. They had the audacity to suggest that I was doing it wrong, but I think it was just an excuse to spend time going down on each other.

It was hot to watch them, two mostly straight guys who have come into their own sexual power in their 60’s. They were passionate with each other. They performed fellatio with a hunger, like they’ve spent their whole lives thinking about what they would do if they ever got a chance. It obviously felt good. When receiving, they each groaned with head thrown back and body arched. I felt a momentary twinge of jealousy to be excluded from this ardent display, but watching them was so primal that I felt connected anyway.

The three of us are so full of love for each other. We respect each other and we feel comfortable being vulnerable. Each of us could ask for the things that we specifically enjoy and wanted. It was okay to laugh and cry and discuss Euler’s identity. I’ve been fucking geeks for most of my life and never realized how sexy logarithms could be, but it certainly worked for Harold and Woody.

Reflected in the windowIt’s amazing how many different ways in which three people can combine. It takes a little bit more work than two people, but we are creative. The advantage to making love with older men is that they take their time. We can have sex for hours and it focuses more on my pleasure. The disadvantage of older men is that I have yet to make them both hard enough at the same time for double penetration or other such hijinks, but I think we’ll get there eventually.

It was a lovely afternoon, from eating sushi with our fingers and catching up to a wild tangle of mouths and limbs – from sensual overload to furious fucking ­– from soaking in the hot tub to dinner and a movie with the family – from Euler to Richard Feynman to Gregory Chaitin. Threesomes have a certain caché, but the time we’ve spent together isn’t like that. We aren’t just there to fuck. We are friends. I have incredible sex with each of them separately. Together we create a function of complex variables that has an amazing integral.

Jan 312015
 

Going downI wake up to him going down on me. My body responds before I am really awake – legs wrapping around him, back arched, hands making fists against the sheets. In the tent under the blankets the scent of his skin surrounds me. The darkness is soft and warm. I focus on the feel of his tongue passing over my clit. When did I get so wet?

I need this man like water in the desert. I’ve been so horny lately, so stressed. In the very early morning he comes to me like a river. He flows over my body. His tongue says, “Be hot for me Baby. Go ahead and burn. I will ease your fever.”

I let go. Sleepily, blissfully, I melt into him. The whole huge complexity of the world narrows to one point. Love. I can forget about everything else for a while. My burdens will wait. I exhale and release all my tension. I’m floating, but his body anchors me. This is the safest I have felt in days.

Heat builds under his mouth. I realize that I am making loud moaning noises and I try to be quieter, but it doesn’t matter. I am pressing myself against him as hard as possible. He pins my wrist to the bed with one hand and captures my soul. I don’t know if he’s doing it on purpose, but this small decisive action tells me that he owns me. I give him everything of me. It’s all his.

Making loveHe is still licking my clit with quick intense motions that make me twitch. Now his other hand roams up to my nipples. He gently pinches and my sounds get louder. I want everything all at once. I want to be right here forever. I want to come. “Harder,” I tell him.

He tweaks my nipples in earnest and my body stiffens as pleasure lances through me. Oh my god. I am gasping with each small jolt of pain. I am overwhelmed with love and flooded with lust for this man. I want more!

I love the weight of him on top of me. It feels secure, like a seatbelt. His is my shield against despair. I writhe under him, swollen with desire, blazing with need. He kisses me deeply and it is like diving into a lake on a summer’s day. His face is moist with my juices. I thrust my impatient tongue between his lips. His mouth is firm on mine. I invite him in.

I feel like a volcano heading for eruption, all lava and pressure. The feel of him inside me, pressing against my g-spot is nearly enough to make me explode. He hands me the vibrator.

That moment just before orgasm is the best – the slow build to powerful peak, poised at the edge of incredible intensity, striving both to slow the inevitable and speed the climax. I find it compelling and excruciating all at once. I think I live there.

He fills me. I am rocked by his motions. Suddenly, like seeing a waterfall approaching, I know I’m going to come. I get swept over the edge, and I am tightening around him in powerful waves. A flood of emotion Connectedovercomes me and then evaporates. I am awash in love. Sweaty, steamy love.

We snuggle in stillness for a few moments. Maybe this is the best part. I feel grounded, connected in a way that has been elusive lately. There are no words here, no need to talk, just us. In the early morning, in the warm quiet dark, we lie in each others arms and we whisper, “Let’s try that again in a few hours.”

Oct 192014
 

Kyle,

In my fantasy you show up at my hotel room, sweeping me off my feet with your suave and dapper style, but it’s Daddy’s hand on my backside that makes me melt. I can’t stop kissing you. I want you in my mouth. Oh Kyle, we only have a few hours. Whatever will we do?

At the hotel door

First kiss

Taste you
Under your boot
Spank me Daddy
Tongues and teeth
Nipples
Grind like this
Take me now
On my knees for you
In your mouth
Your chest

Sweet in your arms

 

(Special thanks to Kyle from Butchtastic for helping me to shoot this fantasy sequence! Stay tuned to see what happens when a couple of gender queered sex-positive bloggers get wild. There’s lots of kissing, talking, giggling, and strap-on wars…)

Sinful Sunday

Aug 252014
 

Love the tuxedoWhen I look in the mirror I am usually pretty happy with what I see. I like my body, my hair, my face – but sometimes I get frustrated when what I see doesn’t fit with how I feel inside. I like being female, but there are times when I feel very male. I struggle with how to present myself as a male. How do I express who I am as a man?

I recently fulfilled a long time fantasy to dress as the man I see myself as and it was really pretty much a perfect evening. I had so much fun! My friends got married and held a masquerade ball. (Congrats guys!) The invitations said, “dress to impress” and I immediately thought about wearing a tuxedo. I’ve always wanted to wear a tux. It seems the epitome of men’s fashion, suave and debonair. What could be sexier?

I fetishize tuxedos to such an extent that just picking up the tux gave me a high like participating in a BDSM scene for a couple of hours. I went to the Tuxedo Club in Kirkland and they were amazing. I had a lot of anxiety going in because I worried that it wouldn’t be right. I was there for over an hour while they explained each piece. I love the details – cufflinks, spats, pocket watches and such. They worked with me to make sure that I had exactly what I wanted in a tuxedo. I left feeling exhilarated.

DW and EvoeI wanted the perfect date for this wedding reception, so I invited DW. I got dressed at his house and he was full of useful information, like tips on how to better use a compression vest to bind my breasts. (“Pull together and you’ve got cleavage, pull up and out toward the armpits and you’ve got pecs.”) I am so grateful to DW for all of his graceful instruction and sense of humor. He also looks damn hot in a tux.

We had fun at the party. I saw people I hadn’t seen in years, and a few of them didn’t recognize me! I felt amazing: strong, sexy, grounded. DW and I got increasingly friskier, groping each other surreptitiously while everyone focused on the bride and groom cutting the cake. It felt good when his fingers brushed against my clit, but I kept wishing that I had decided to pack so he could feel my cock.

DW and Evoe kissingWe left while the night was still young. We stopped at a grocery store because DW insisted on getting me food I could eat, something that earns him a hundred gold stars in my book. Walking through the store in a tux made the experience real. I was not just going to a costume party, I was in public. It was awesome. I want to own a tux so I can put it on to run to the grocery store. (After 5:00 p.m. of course, as DW pointed out.)

Once we had taken off the tuxedos and I had eaten, we retired to the bedroom. DW has a perfect way about him. I feel comfortable and I trust him, which makes it possible (just barely) for me to submit to him. He brings me right up to the point where I would have to stop. I find myself sitting in uncomfortable places that I would not normally tolerate with anyone else. And then I feel amazing afterward. This man has incredible skill.

Pre masquerade He called me “boy” the entire time. I dropped to my knees in front of him. He urged me to take his cock deeper and deeper into my throat, slapping my face when I didn’t try hard enough. I gagged and tears ran down my face, but I eventually found my rhythm.

He wrapped his fingers in my hair and dragged me to the bed. He bent me over the edge and bit my back while I squirmed in protest. He was gone briefly then came back with what I think was a belt. He used it to encourage me to use proper responses to his attentions. It sounded like this: “SMACK. (breath, breath, moan…) Yes Daddy! SMACK. (sucked in breath, exhale) Yes Daddy!” Between the belt and his hand I started to get the hang of it.

Our play got gentler after that. I did more cock sucking. We snuggled. I orgasmed. He is a fabulous kisser. He wove incredible fantasies for me. He rolled me over and fucked me hard, like I had been wanting in a desperate kind of way. I also wanted him to come all over me, so he straddled my hips. We took turns with lube and his cock. He talked dirty to me (cuz I’m a dirty boy). I played with his nipples and really felt like a boy. I could feel my cock and I wanted him to sit on it. I wanted to fuck him with my cock while he spilled on my chest. It was toe-curling, back-arching, super-hot fucking.

Morning strollI had so much fun. I’m still on that high a couple of days later. It’s interesting to me that none of the (sometimes crippling) anxiety I feel in social situations plagued me at the reception. Perhaps it is the power of the tuxedo. Maybe I feel more confident as a boy. Could be that DW puts me at ease. Whatever it is, I’ll take it.

I’ve felt great all weekend. I put on the tux again to take some photos with Harold, this time with me on top. Those images turn me on so much. Like crazy horny. I’ve never had that experience with photos of myself before! I don’t even know what to make of it. Renting a tux has been more than a costume for a party, more than cross-dressing, and more than a fetish. It’s been a dream come true.

Aug 212014
 

Going downWe’ve been laying naked on the bed, chatting in that comfortable stream-of-consiousness way that we have together. The windows are open to the warm air and the sounds of nature. My body is alive to his touch. I am drawn to him, but without any sense of urgency. We belong to each other and we have all afternoon together.

He gets up – I think he is in transit, maybe to get a drink of water or check his phone, maybe get something from the sex toy bag – but he gets stuck. He snags between my legs. My knees fall open, his gaze glued to my cunt. Before I really register what is happening, his tongue is lapping lazy circles around my clitoris.

I had been pretty relaxed to begin with, but I close my eyes and drift through waves of pleasure. He’s good at using his mouth and he knows my body. I just give myself over to his care. My mind wanders. I think about the very first time he gave me head. I was lying in exactly this spot, but in my memory it seems different. I feel myself getting wetter as I get more aroused and I remember that first time being the same, although I interpreted it differently.

I open my eyes and look down at him, “Hey Sweetheart?”

He opens his eyes and looks at me, but doesn’t stop licking, “Uhmmmm?”

“When you do that, do you kind of…spit on me?”

His eyebrows raise, but he doesn’t answer.

“I’ve been thinking about the first time we made love and I was pretty sure you spit on me on purpose to have extra lubrication.”

He sort of nods, keeps licking.

I’m feeling a little foolish but continue on, “I thought that it was a good idea to have extra spit. Now I do that when I go down on someone.”

He pauses for a moment, “I drool.” He goes back to teasing my clit.

“What?”

“I drool during oral sex. I can’t keep it all in my mouth.” He lifts his head and I can see that the whole bottom half of his face is wet.

I begin to giggle. So much for my suave oral sex techniques!

Aug 152014
 

Hotel sexMy head is still swirling with images from last weekend – memories of taking the train to Portland, experiencing my first leather event, and swanky hotel threesome sex all invade my mind. It was a good time. I felt like a teenager running away from home, full of excitement tinged with a trace of fear. I felt like I was getting away with something wicked and I relished every moment on my own. I made it all count.

Harold dropped me off at the train station, where Hobbit and her Princess Girlfriend found me. On the way down to Portland they explained the basics of leather culture and titles. They were both very gracious in answering all my questions. Although I’ve spent most of my life on the edges of the LGBT  and BDSM communities, I have never directly attended a leather event. (I love new experiences!) In Portland, we met up with Woody, DW, and Shawna.

Shawna's formal look

Photo courtesy of Leland Carina

My Sweet Girl, Shawna, was running for Ms. Oregon State Leather. I wanted to be there to see her in her element. And I was there, with the taste of whisky in my mouth, the smell and creak of leather around me, music blasting, and the trace of a lover’s fingers along the back of my neck. I felt alive in a way I rarely experience, but value more than anything. I got to see Shawna and the other competitors explain how they would serve the community. I watched the outrageous manifestations of their fantasies come to life onstage. I witnessed the contestants poise when answering pop questions. I learned a lot about leather culture observing their numerous outfit changes. Underneath everything was a sense of humor and unapologetic sexuality.

Everyone I encountered was warm, respectful, and self-contained. It’s the first time I have ever been in a bar or club and not had someone come on to me in a sticky or obnoxious way. People did talk to me. I had fascinating conversations with interesting people. But I never even came close to having to tell someone to fuck off. It’s nice to be fully and comfortably in my sexual self and not have to defend my boundaries because someone else thinks that all my shiny is for them. I think these leather folks are onto something.

Shawna's victory pose

Photo courtesy of Leland Carina

Mostly, I was happy to see Shawna win the title. My Sweet Girl is now Ms. Oregon State Leather 2014! I’m so proud of all that she’s accomplished and I know that she’s going to spend the next year doing great things for the leather community. I am endlessly amazed by her humility and grace, as well as the strength of her convictions and iron will. I love her.

I was proud of myself because after the contest was over, I did exactly what I wanted to do. I did not go to the after party. I did not go out to eat with friends. I went back to my lovely hotel and engaged in self-care. I ate food that I brought with me, that would not make me sick. I put ice on my broken toes. I read my book.

While I enjoyed alone time, I was excited when DW texted to say that he was in the lobby with Shawna. I took the elevator down to get them. In a surreal moment, we went back up with a couple that had just gotten married. They asked about Shawna’s Ms. Oregon State Leather sash!

When I think about you...It’s such a joy to sit and talk to friends. Even better when we snuggle up in bed together. I think DW delights in helping people actualize their desires because soon hands were roaming and Shawna started moaning. DW had her ask me for fisting (which I had mentioned being into earlier). We had her spread across the bed between us – DW’s cock in her throat and my whole hand inside her beautiful cunt. Fisting is such a deeply spiritual experience for me, although I normally have more of an opportunity to check in with the person I am inside. Her vaginal contractions were so strong, she would force my hand out over and over. It was the most amazing thing.

When Shawna felt she’d had enough, she switched to giving DW head from on top. I played with his nipples and sat on his face until I came. Shortly after, DW orgasmed.

It was four in the morning. I usually go to bed no later than 10:00, but some things are well worth staying up for. Shawna and DW left to return to their hotel room, but Shawna confessed that this was her first threesome. I feel honored that she chose to spend the evening with me. I hope I did right by her.

Satisfied and dreamyI tumbled into a contented, dreamy sleep, only to awaken at 8:00 a.m. That’s sleeping in for me! I stumbled around figuring out coffee and rejecting room service. Woody texted me from the Bolt Bus on his way back to Seattle. I got him to sext me while I used my vibrator to come over and over. I wonder what the person next to him thought.

My own trip home was good. I thought lots of deep thoughts. I felt both satiated and hungry for more. I really love the train. It’s so relaxing to stare out the window and think in peace. My fantasy life is rich, but occasionally, real life eclipses my imagination.

Jun 082014
 

A-okayTwo weeks ago I wrote about starting a difficult conversation with my partner of 14 years, Joel, bringing up things I was unhappy with in our sex life. It was extremely painful for us both when I admitted that I wasn’t getting everything I desired, but it gave us a chance to talk through hurt feelings and realize that we really do want the same things. It’s a relief to let go of old resentments and just enjoy being together.

Our whole relationship has been lifted to a new level. We are spending more time hanging out together, working as partners, making love to each other. He says beautiful things to me all the time, letting me know that he respects me and is attracted to me. I really listen when he tells me about the loneliness he feels spending half the week away from home and the jealousy he feels toward my other partners. We take care of each other. We are dreaming and planning the future together.

We’ve been like this all along, but I feel so much more aligned with Joel right now. He is way more present with me. Maybe the things I wrote before kind of woke him up. Maybe stepping forward to talk about these uncomfortable things made it possible for me to be more present with him. Either way, or both, I believe we are happier together than we have been in years.

Last night Joel came into the bathroom to keep me company while I got ready to go out. I had 20 minutes to be totally ready to walk out the door. As I finished applying mascara, he commented on my cleavage. I’m not even sure how it happened, but I was almost instantly out of my pants and underwear, balanced on the edge of the counter, bracing my feet against Joel’s shoulders as he buried his face in my cunt.

When the sensations got too intense to stand any more direct stimulation, I bent over the sink and asked him to give me a few swats. His hand landed a few well placed spanks, leaving my ass hot and stinging. My face was level with his cock when he unzipped his fly. I gave him a few strokes and looked up at him. I wanted to be fucked. Joel positioned himself behind me while I braced myself against the sink. It took us a moment to get him inside me because I was so wet. Feeling him thrust into me, pulling my hips back to meet him, made my toes curl in ecstasy.

He came, pushing deeper into me and holding back his orgasmic cries. We held position for a few moments, hearts pounding, breathing hard. Then he held me and we laughed. I wiped up and finished getting ready.

I thought about this encounter compared to the one I wrote about 2 weeks ago. In many ways what happened was the same – quick, in the bathroom, cunnilingus, fucking, no orgasm for me – but my experience of it couldn’t be more different. Two weeks ago I felt like I hadn’t fully consented, that I was being used, and that we weren’t connecting. Last night we made love in a way that I felt in control of, was super sexy for me, and brought us closer together. I made a conscious decision not to try bringing myself to orgasm because I wanted to spend my evening in that turned-on state. Call it prolonged foreplay. The time limit actually contributed to my ardor. I love a good quicky.

I am so much happier now than I was a few weeks ago. I wish I would have been brave enough, ready enough, to have these conversations with Joel sooner. I think that resentment kills relationships quicker than anything else. Letting go of the things I resented has let me feel close to him again. Communicating better about what I want has let Joel participate in my life in a way that we both want. I feel more involved in his life as well. Everything simply seems easier. I’m going to keep talking.

Apr 072014
 

On the beachI suspect that, at some point, everyone has to look at how sex defines their life. How do I identify as a sexual (or non-sexual) person? Where does sex stand in my hierarchy of values? What is sex anyway?

Harold and I went away for the weekend and we discussed many of these concepts because I’ve been struggling with thyroid problems again. My sexuality as I have known it is on hiatus. I wrote a post about thyroid function and sexuality a while ago. When I reread that list of possible symptoms for hypothyroidism, I realize that I have been experiencing every single one. If I look back I can recognize a very gradual decline of my thyroid function over the past 3-6 months, with the last month being extremely difficult.

We needed some time away by ourselves. My extreme fatigue and lack of desire make it hard for us to just flow together sexually the way that we are used to doing. I’m missing that sensation of immediate lust that feels like sap rising in tree or riding a carnival ride – a thrill of warmth that starts in my cunt and moves up to my heart. Intellectually, I am still very interested in making love, I just don’t feel it. It takes more time for me to get my mind, body, and emotions aligned so sex flows. 

When sex stops being easy for me, I am forced to examine all of my assumptions about who I am as a person and in a relationship. Harold and I spent a lot of time talking, as I tearfully wondered if I would ever really want to have sex again (which is kind of silly because we then went on to have lots of sex, but I needed to examine my fears). We sat on the beach and I poured out my heart, asking him if he would still love me and want me if we never had sex again. How would we connect? And slowly, I remembered all of the ways that we love each other. We make love in many ways that I would not consider “sex” and while I adore our sexual connection, it was a relief to realize that I will not lose him if I cannot recover my lust.

Leave your hat onTo be clear, the only person pressuring me to be sexual is me. I get really frustrated that this isn’t something I can think my way through. I get scared that I might never feel that thrill and transcendence through sex again. Much of this weekend was spent processing a loss I don’t even believe is permanent. But sex is strong like that.

Sometimes just knowing that a “no” is okay, lets me say yes. Knowing that I didn’t have to perform sexually in any particular way freed me to simply be present in the moment. I knew that Harold would meet me no matter what I brought to our lovemaking. This is an amazing gift and it’s what keeps us together.

For any couple that’s having troubles connecting sexually, I have this advice: get naked, get in bed together, and talk. It’s okay to touch and snuggle. Look into each other’s eyes. It works for me every time. Being naked is vulnerable, and skin to skin contact makes me feel closer as oxytocin is released through this basic intimacy. As our bodies, minds, and emotions sync up internally and with each other, we naturally flow into lovemaking.

We made love in a tiny little loft, warming our bodies after sitting on the cold beach. We kissed slowly, then more urgently, opening to each other. Hands explored flesh, squeezing and caressing. I lay on top of him, feeling him harden against me. We took turns going down on each other, then switched to 69 because we had to have everything all at once. I wanted to take him with my strap-on, but we got caught up in the moment. I had to feel him inside me, just for a minute…

Sex still isn’t easy for me right now. I normally orgasm in about a minute and am capable of multiple orgasms, but we have to really work for me to cum right now. It feels great to be riding that edge for so long, but sometimes I just want to get there already! The fact that the batteries were failing on my vibrator didn’t help. I worried that Harold would get bored or tired, but he was perfectly willing to do whatever for as long as I was enjoying it.

Fields of springThe next morning, I took a shower while Harold worked on his laptop. I ended up masturbating, wanting to see how my body responded to my own touch. It took a lot of fantasizing, but I was eventually able to get myself off. Immediately, I started wishing that Harold was there (never mind that we were in a tiny cabin and he could hear everything), and feeling resentful that he didn’t care to be sexual with me (never mind that I had told him to go ahead and work and I hadn’t invited him to shower).  I had to laugh at myself for being so passive-agressive, then went and seduced him into fucking me right there in the kitchen. He didn’t mind at all.

I’m glad that we had time for me to examine the recent changes in my sexuality. We had awesome sex, but I am most grateful to spend time together doing relaxed things – talking, shopping, walking on the beach, drinking lambic out of the bottle like teenagers, looking at flowers, watching a movie, napping, and sharing meals. It’s the first time we’ve gone away and I brought my crocheting rather than, say, a trample table.

I don’t feel kinky. I don’t feel like much of a Top. I don’t feel particularly sexy. In fact, I feel sick a lot of the time. I am not up for wild rodeo sex, but that doesn’t mean that I am not sexual. I still want to kiss, to be close, to share dreams. If I think about it, I still want to orgasm. I want to connect with my partners. Everything is an effort right now, but sex is worth the effort.

Flip offIf I never feel that hot lust again, it will be like losing a limb. For now, I am content redefining my sexuality to make wherever I am the perfect place to be. It’s a relief to know that I don’t have to be crazy kinky to be loved. I happen to like pushing my sexual limits most of the time, but that isn’t the whole of my identity. I can define sex any way I like.