Using my Words

(Note: I am typing this more for my sake than for an audience, so…you’ve been warned)

(Hmm, Independence Day.  What an odd day to write this…but it works for me…)

So, lemme start with some background:

1.       (distant past) Once upon a time, when I was young, I wrote down how I felt about a person in a letter to my brother-in-law.  The notebook wherein I had written said letter was found, and I was openly mocked by 15 or 20 people, including the person that I had mentioned having feelings for…since then I don’t put important stuff into writing if I can help it. In addition, because of my own reticent nature and upbringing by older parents, I tend also to repress verbally when it comes to sexual matters.  I’m not quite so tied up and Victorian that “legs” become “limbs”, but it is far too easy for me to “lie back and think of England” mode rather than to use my not inconsiderable vocabulary to express my sexual needs and give my partner direction.  (Yah, I don’t have issues there, I have subscriptions.  I’ll have to unpack that eventually.)

2.       (somewhat recent past) The dear friend who helped introduce me to kink encouraged me to “learn how to use my words”.  He worked with me to get me to be able to speak more about my feelings and/or needs.  So, anyway, one (several) of my challenges on this path relating to courage is to speak – to my partner, of my desires generally and specifically, and to write.  Write anything.  Analysis.  Desires.  Whatever.  So, this is me writing.  It won’t be brilliant or moving or erotic (sigh.  In fact, inane is the adjective that’s coming to mind at the moment), but it is something that I need to learn to do.

3.       (very recent past) This week has been so very interesting (in that Chinese kind of way), and a great deal of scar tissue has been activated by events entirely out of my control.  All week, I have fought to keep myself from slipping back into that old crazy, because NOBODY needs me to go there (least of all me).

Alright, that’s the background.  Now, to the point…

This morning, we were curled up in bed, and my sweetie was simply holding me, being respectful of my stress.  Normally, this is a pretty easy thing for him, but he really went hard at yesterday’s fighter practice and that gets him amped.  So he was trying to comfort me while holding back his own urgency.  This wasn’t fair, clearly, but neither would me rolling over and “thinking of England” have been (an unfortunate tendency of mine).  Today I tried the “and” approach, hoping we could both get what we needed.  First, I asked if he could stroke my skin in long, slow pets.  These are still comforting, but since I am a sensation hog, they also woke up my sensual side, got me purring and wanting more.  Yay for my first use of words.

We lay there spooning, his arm curved above my head and our hands loosely clasped there.  Another suggestion came to mind.  I asked him to shift his hand slightly and grasp firmly around my wrist.  The contrast of the secure grip with the soft, sensuous pets distracted me even more from this week’s internal monologue of nuts.  Trapped by my wrist being held slightly above my head, I turned my body in, to get more petting, which was becoming increasingly intimate. 

I asked my sweetie to wrap his leg around mine, further pinning me in place and in a position that left me both secure and exposed.  This completely re-focused my attention to matters at hands and ramped up my interest levels intensely.  Both of us soon found a certain noisy satisfaction.

(ok, latent Victorianism kicking in for a sec, sorry, but in case you haven’t been keeping count, this now makes three instances of using my words to express specific needs or wants.)

But, he wasn’t done yet, as is often the case.  We curled up once more, panting a bit, and he continued that maddening long, slow petting.

Needing to focus, I asked my sweetie to grasp my neck, just at the collarbone, and to give some of the weight of his hand to my chest.  This is a pin that feels like it could be a chokehold without ever truly becoming one.  With his thumb and forefinger just putting the slightest pressure on my jugular vein, and his meaty hand bearing down just enough on my windpipe and sternum, I could only freeze.  Every bit of my attention riveted on his hand and getting oxygen.  In slow, halting words, I explained to him exactly what was happening in my head and where I was focused.  He listened carefully and responded.

This time the orgasm nearly bowed me double, and I’m afraid I clawed him right on a bruise left from practice.  He didn’t seem to mind.

I still need to suss out why that neck grip works (though I’m sure I know folks who could explain it).  It seems to have a similar effect when you are training a dog and want them to be calmer. (Not touching that)

So, today I used my words and it worked. J And I’m writing it down and leaving it out there.

…Independence Day…yep.