Decided to Have Sex with Him for One Week Whenever He Wanted (Here’s What Happened)
It started with porn. We watched porn together sometimes,
more his desire than mine, but whatever, it was kind of hot. I mean, porn is
weird and unsexy and a bit depressing if you think about it too much or pay a
lot of attention to it, but if you can find a good one and pay attention for
the beginning only, it can be good. It’s like watching a horror movie and you
tense up and your blood pressure rises even though you know it’s fake — given the
stimuli, your body can’t help but produce a physical reaction.
Anyways, we watched porn together sometimes and I knew he
watched it alone. I’m not like, “the cool girl” who’s totally okay with her
boyfriend watching porn but I knew it was an uphill battle and one that wasn’t
going to end well for either of us, so I tried to use it to bring us closer
together. One night, loosed by a few stiff drinks over ice we drank on his
balcony, watching the city lights come on and turn off — the full metropolitan life
cycle in one night — I asked him what he liked about porn, and whether access
to me or all the other women in the world (hotter ones, I even gave him) would
be better, ideally.
grab this to encourage you and your lover to get away from the daily grind……
His answer surprised me, it wasn’t about quality or
quantity, but about availability. With me, (and he loved me very much, he
clarified), he had to woo me, constantly. Sex was never a
given, and this is a biological difference
between men and women. He was trying, all the time to make me think of
him sexually and to initiate sex and even my higher-than-average female libido
couldn’t keep up with him. As loving and as open and assuring as I was towards
him, he was still getting rejected by me in this way, often (and even more
often if he would be honest about how frequently he wanted
sex).
And so watching porn made sense to me in a way it never had
before. The fantasy, the real fantasy, was a world free of rejection, from the
tired trope of the guy who wants sex more than his girlfriend does. I felt bad
about it, to be honest, as much as I loved him, why did he have to suffer these
feelings that he was somehow not enough?
I took this sort-of imbalance in our sex life as a challenge
— what kind of system could we get on that would work for both of
us?
We decided that for one week, we would be running our
relationship on his biological frequency instead of mine. I
could try anything for a week. He was too cautious to be excited, as if I would
change my mind if he showed too much enthusiasm.
We started on Monday with morning sex before he left for
work. Today was the first day of Sex-On-His-Terms week and I woke up to his
breath on my neck and his hand running up my leg, grazing the boy-cut panties I
wore to bed — and running back down again. He was ready to start.
I opened my legs to him immediately. There was something
freeing about the choice already being made. I was going to have sex with him,
I was necessarily “in the mood” because I’d already decided I was going to be. Decisions
are a lot of work, and knowing this one was already made felt relaxing and
luxurious. Like morning sex. I made him 45 minutes late that day. He blamed it
on a faulty alarm clock.
I napped afterwards and woke up to several text messages
from him, rare for having just seen him off a few hours ago.
This morning was so
hot. I can’t wait for more.
The second was more forceful than complimentary:
Stay in bed. I’m
coming home for lunch.
I laughed. I have to admit, it was hot to snuggle back into
linens, smelling him, waiting for his return — to be instructed not
to dress. It was the kind of thing where I might usually touch myself and think
of his hands instead of mine, but his return was coming so soon that I didn’t,
I just waited for him and smiled my cat-who-got-the-mouse smile when he walked
in, already unbuckling his belt. I was wet for him, more than usual — it was
all the waiting. He felt like a stud, I could tell, as I crawled across the bed
towards him, still naked from the morning sex, and climbed on top of him. I rode
him without even unbuttoning his pale blue work shirt. I wondered if it would
smell like me for the rest of the day.
Tuesday evening, I made a lasagna so I would have plenty of
time to get ready after I was done cooking. I showered and sprayed perfume in
all his favorite places. I dressed in lingerie instead of clothes and then when
he texted me that he was leaving work, I tried something silly I’d read in this
book ( you will find it at the end of the article) once. I was kind of
sexed out and I needed to get back in the mood so I put on some relaxing music
and laid in bed. Without trying to get off or do anything other than relax, I
placed my vibrator inside me and thought about him — again, nothing too
intense, just kind of opening myself up for the evening. As robotic and forced
as the action seemed at first, when I put it away and got up to pour wine for
dinner, I was in an entirely different mood. I wasn’t tired anymore, I
was desirous, the knock at the door was one of promise instead of
obligation.
I kissed him, open-mouth, in the stairwell, surprising even
myself with my unwillingness to even walk up the stairs before I touched him. I
was already ready, already wanting him and he, in turn, was turned on by my
suddenly elevated interest. I wanted to feel his weight on me, and I placed my
hands on his lower back, pulling him into me and feeling his jeans rub against
the thin fabric of my negligee. I turned, finally, to lead him up the stairs to
the kitchen and felt his hands left the back of the slip and grab my ass fully
in his hands. I almost couldn’t keep walking, the needing-him sensation
inside me about doubled with that touch. While we ate, his hands never stopped
touching me — rubbing my thigh, pulling me into him by wrapping his arm around
my shoulder, brushing my hair back from my face. It was, oddly, an extremely
romantic meal we both prolonged because the tension building between us was so
fun to play with. Every touch was becoming unbearable.
After dinner we didn’t go to the couch or pretend we were
going to do an activity for a bit. We went to the bedroom. We kissed like we
hadn’t kissed in forever — long, deep, high-school kisses. He walked me back to
my bed and laid me down beneath him, kissing my collarbone and murmuring sweet
nothings between breaths. He slid a finger inside me and held his face above
mine, watching my reaction, cherishing my reaction. He told me
I was beautiful, that he loved watching me respond to him.
His confidence at this point was intoxicating. He knew I was
on board with whatever he wanted to do and instead of it turning him into a
greedy tyrant, it relaxed him, it opened him up. I felt closer to him than ever
before.
When he pulled me to the edge of the bed and entered me, it
was slower and more lust-filled than usual. This wasn’t get-it-over-with sex.
This was vacation sex on a Tuesday night. He took a pillow and I obligingly
lifted my hips so he could place it underneath them and return to pushing
himself into me, deeper now. He places his forearms next to my arms as he
leaned over me, maximizing our skin-to-skin contact.
Convinced now that this sex session would be leisurely he
pulled out of me and bent down, flicked his tongue over my clit as my eyes
rolled back into my head and I squirmed before him. I wondered if he could
taste himself in me?
His finger was inside me again, swirling around, feeling the
width of me while he kissed and flicked me on the outside. He stimulated me all
at once, like an expert. Every erogenous zone was on fire. I heard myself
begging him to fuck before I realized that was even what I wanted — and he was
on top of me again, thrusting into me like I asked, like I needed,
filling me, driving me over the edge.
For once, I came before he did — in a hot sticky dizzy wave
that came roaring out of me.
He came next, catapulted into it by me spasming around his
dick. I felt his heat inside me and his breathing slow, finally. Lying supine
next to my breathless match, I couldn’t believe there were five more days of
this.
Sex is a bit like a secret society;
everyone’s doing it, it’s just that no one talks about it. Kinkly’s
mission is to start that conversation, answer your questions and help
you discover new and exciting things about sex, love, and your body.
Guaranteed to be illuminating, enlightening, fun … and a little kinky.
And that’s OK with us!
Sex Hacks will encourage you and your lover to get away from the daily grind to get down and dirty. If you’re a newbie to the adventurous scene, or are looking to add to your already stacked repertoire, this handy guide has something for everyone. The tips and tricks vary from foreplay to fetishes, from new positions to variations on old favorites, and features:
• 150 hacks to build a better sex life
• 75 color photographs for clarity Download PDF $2.99
Sex Hacks will encourage you and your lover to get away from the daily grind to get down and dirty. If you’re a newbie to the adventurous scene, or are looking to add to your already stacked repertoire, this handy guide has something for everyone. The tips and tricks vary from foreplay to fetishes, from new positions to variations on old favorites, and features:
• 150 hacks to build a better sex life
• 75 color photographs for clarity Download PDF $2.99
TAKE A LOOK AT BOOK INSIDE SCREENSHOTS BELOW
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