Sex Therapy

I don't wan't gentleness tonight

The pendulum swing between soft feminine lover and entrepreneurial boss witch… isn’t always an easy one to find balance in. My work is slowest in summer. Clients are out enjoying the fruits of British Columbia’s best season, just as I prefer doing. Now that Autumn has fallen, my schedule is more packed than ever. Conjuring erotic rituals unique to each client. Guiding. Weaving. Alchemizing. I love it so much.

And.. it’s a lot to hold.

Momentum is building. My clients are reaching beautiful depths. I’m working from home while my lover is putting in 13 hour days at his job. It’s easier to feel disconnected in stints like these. He’s spending his days in the all-consuming, fast paced film chaos while I’m diving into portals of slow, intentional, sensual rituals with other people.

Two entirely different worlds.

I want to greet him with the enchanting warmth I’ve been exuding all day.. but he walks through the door with the debris of his day stuck to his shoulders. He’s right in front of me but feels so far away. Deep down I know holding each other for a moment and just taking some breaths together would bring us back into connection.. but for whatever psychologically fucked reason - that’s one of the last things I want to do.

I crawl into myself, into the familiar shell of hyper-independence. I feel off tonight - numb even. I don’t want to burden him with my emotional confusion. He has so much going on and I don’t want to add to his stress. I retreat further but he knows me - he feels the distance. He’s trying to bridge the gap and I’m trying to convince myself that I should be able to hold this on my own. He’s walking towards me down the hallway and I hesitate. I start to open, ever so slightly - but my inner bitch is still rearing her head.

I back up.. and start walking towards him again. He lifts his left hand and I push it away as I back up again. I’m not sure what I’m doing. Almost rewinding - rewiring my emotions with every step backwards. It becomes a game. The subtle frustration in the air begins to melt as more playfulness ensues. I walk towards him once more, grabbing his dominant hand, his stronger hand - and press it against my throat. I look up at him and rasp “I don’t want gentleness tonight”. It’s more of a plea than a request. His chuckle is devilish and I know I needn’t say more.

I go on with my nighttime routine and he meets me in our bedroom not long after. “I’ve got an idea for a ritual to float by you, if you’re open..”

In what world would I not be open to that? “Go on..”

He tells me he wants to blindfold me. From start to finish. A journey in the dark where my only task is to receive. I’ve played with blindfolds many times, but never like this, never for the duration of the full experience. He acknowledges how much work I’ve been doing and how much space I’ve been holding for others. There’s a sliver of guilt within, he’s so tired, I want to be the one spoiling him.. but this is our relationship dynamic. We nurture each other. And are highly attuned to when the other really needs it. He wants to pour into me. And Gods, I want to be filled with him.

I drape myself on the bed as he slides the silky mask over my eyes. Complete darkness. He explores my body as if he never has before.. though he’s probably the one who’s studied my terrain the deepest at this point. Slow but not gentle, branding every inch as his. Every feeling of disconnect dissolves. I never get bored of his touch. Our relationship is proving that long term love doesn’t have to come with monotony. He slips between my legs and begins his masterful work. Teasing, sliding, curling. His hands sculpt my pleasure.

I paw at my remaining clothes as heat spreads through my chest, he slides them off with ease. My body contorts. I don’t care what I look like. My hips rise, one leg locking over his shoulder. His fingers pump into me, “fuck, that’s a juicy pussy baby”. There’s on ocean swelling between my thighs. I come undone, hungry for more, grasping for him. I feel deliciously out of control when he makes me come like this - when it catches me by surprise, so quick I’m tumbling over the edge before I even realize.

He kneels by my head so I can wrap my lips around him, filling my mouth with an almost frantic desperation. It’s not long enough and he pulls away, positioning himself between my legs once more. It’s all blurring into decadent overwhelm as he thrusts into me. Keeping his promise of not being gentle. I needed this. Like actually, needed. Getting fucked into oblivion is therapuetic. But it can’t be mindless, nor heartless. When a man is attuned to the frequency of love and is able to penetrate with calculated intention.. that’s when it becomes healing.

My lover bends me over the side of the bed as I lift one leg up. He takes me from behind and - fuck, this is one of my favourite positions. He’s planting himself in me fully with every thrust, a molten rhythm demanding eruption. I feel my g-spot like I never have before. With such intricacy. I can feel his cock sliding over every ridge. I bury my face in the bed, screaming as I feel my nectar splashing down our legs.

Everything is quivering.

I’m boneless and he scoops me up on the bed again, placing me so that my head is face up, hanging slightly off the edge. I smile as I know what’s coming. I love when he slides down my throat like this. I take all of him that I can. Choking on his length and my own saliva. It drips from the sides of my mouth and puddles on the floor.

He pulls my hair and spins me around fast so that his hips meet my bum as he’s holding my legs up. I’m lightheaded, disoriented from all the sensation and lack of sight. An absolutely filthy delight. Relentless in his deliverance. I can’t see.. but oh, I can feel. I can feel his sweat dripping onto me, colliding with my own. He’s got his elbows locked behind my knees and I’m in pure ecstasy. Moaning, laughing, sighing. My taste in men? Him. I love being so obsessed with my lover that every bone in my body believes he knows how to love me best. Oh dear Gods.. am I coming, again? I am, whether I want to or not, he’s wringing it out of me and I can only imagine his face is full of wicked pride.

Dissolution blankets the space and I have a feeling he’s surpassed a threshold - he’s gotten into a God-like lovers trance.. he’s channeling, and when he gets like this… ohhhh, we could be here for a while. In this state, his stamina seems to be eternal. In this state, his body takes over, running on pure instinct.. and it knows exactly what we need.

I don’t know how much longer we were engulfed in the throes of our love making. Long enough to still feel tendrils of pleasure pulling at my strings as I write this.

Several positions that completely liquified my body later, I was laying on my back wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling his neck down towards me. Melding, forging into one beautiful offering of love. I can always tell when he’s close. It just starts to feel so damn good. I can feel my cervix open, inviting him in, purring, coaxing him into release. We’re breathing together - my skin is on fire, his sweat is still splashing onto me, he’s still moaning sacred profanities. Ripples gush within me as I let myself fall over the edge with him. He pulls out and spills himself on me, warmth spreading across my belly, dripping down my waist. His groans are a delectable enchantment for my ears.

We melt. In awe. Again. I’ve stopped being surprised at how incredible our sex is but the delight has only grown. We collapse into eachother, sprawling - touching as much as we can despite out bodies dripping with sweat. I tell him I want to keep the blindfold on for a while longer. I’m not done revelling in it all. We lay there and he traces my body sweetly, intentionally. Probably casting his own sort of love spells upon me. It’s working. I feel him bow at my womb, uttering a simple prayer. He’s hovering over me and I bring my hands to my mask, breathing slow as I inch it up.

I keep my eyes closed as I slip the mask fully off. Soft light flooding my eyelids. I gently flutter them open straight into the gaze of my lover and my heart stutters in the best kind of way. Oh, this love! It slaps me in the face with tenderness. It can be so deliciously raunchy- and moments later, here, now - entirely sweet and wrapped in devotion. A single tear gathers in the corner of my eye and I let it tumble. My heart is yanked deeper into love. As Above. So below. Blessed may it be.