(continued from “A Retrospective: Part 3“)
The play was good, the sex was good, the conversations were good. But all the while, I grew increasingly nervous that J would lose interest when he realized I wasn’t really dominant.
I guarded my heart, kept reminding myself that J might be a good fuck buddy, but nothing more. I tried, but maintaining some detachment was damn near impossible. Everything felt natural, organic, and comfortable. The time we shared didn’t feel like “play”–it felt real–and some part of me wondered whether I was feeling something J wasn’t. Of course it was fun, but it was also intimate, satisfying, and sometimes, pretty intense.
J made suggestions about how we might play, and I was eager to hear them. I didn’t have an extensive repertoire of BDSM experience, and I was grateful for his suggestions and reassurances. Almost without exception, when he made a suggestion or mentioned something, we tried it. Perhaps I set up a bad precedent in taking his suggestions so often.
J kept bringing up facesitting (one of the least kinky things we had discussed or tried, if it’s even kinky at all). If you’ve read this blog before, you probably already know I’m self-conscious about my labia. Cunnilingus (just that, forget about facesitting for the moment) is a sort of intimate contact that I don’t share with partners easily—I need to feel secure in the relationship, feel good about myself, and I really need to be in the right mindset to let it happen at all, let alone enjoy it. Facesitting and smothering… in physical and emotional positions where I’m in control… well, that’s way more intense than just plain oral sex—that’s me shoving my labia into someone’s face. That’s intense.
I understand that many women think of receiving oral sex as receiving pleasure, and men think of it as something they give to their female partners. That’s not it for me. Allowing someone that sort of intimate contact is my giving them a gift—one of the most personal and intimate gifts I can give. It’s rare, and it’s precious, and it’s important to me. I don’t give that gift away easily or often.
In addition to my apprehension and self-consciousness about my body and receiving oral pleasure, I don’t orgasm easily. Whatever you want to call it, my difficulty coming to orgasm, my partner’s often-inability to bring me to orgasm, it’s been a problem in the past. Egos get bruised, I feel damaged, I’ve lied and faked, and ultimately, I think some of those issues contributed to the destruction of a few past relationships.
But J is very into oral service, and he kept bringing it up. At some point, I shared a little with him about my difficulty coming to orgasm, and explained how it burned some of my past relationships. I didn’t tell him everything, but enough, I think, and I warned him not to push me.
He didn’t ask many questions. It wasn’t that he seemed disinterested, but more that he was so confident in his own skill. With that egotistical, beautiful smile I’ve both loved and hated, he proudly explained that he had never been with a woman and been unable to bring her to orgasm with his mouth. I mentioned that lots of women fake orgasm and told him that I had faked in the past. I told him why I had faked–because I didn’t want to bruise egos, I didn’t want to “fail” at having an orgasm, and because I didn’t want it to hurt the relationship. His confidence in his ability seemed unchanged, and he asked me to promise that I’d never fake an orgasm with him. I promised.
In a conversation a few days later, he asked how I had been able to come to orgasm in the past, and I told him. I was glad that he asked, relieved almost, but that only lasted a few seconds. J responded with “in my experience, it’s all about…” His experience with women—what it was “all about”—didn’t match up with my experience with my own body.
In various conversations that followed, I wasn’t as honest about my concerns nor as forthcoming with my own experience as I should have been. I don’t like talking about any of it, especially with someone who seems to think he knows it all. At some point, J suggested I invest in a different vibrator (for when I’m by myself). That conversation pissed me off enough to include “Don’t attempt to school me on my own orgasms…” as an item in “the rules.”
Still, when oral service came up in conversation, he expressed confidence in his abilities and he nearly begged me to let him try. His suggestions started to feel more like pushing, and the harder he pushed, the more concerned I was about whether it would become a problem—-my hesitance to give him that gift, and my often inability to enjoy it.
Despite my hesitance, I had promised him that I wouldn’t fake an orgasm with him and I meant it. Honestly, I don’t think anyone ever intends to fake an orgasm.
continue to Retrospective, Part 5: Dumb Service Top