Point-blank asking for what I wanted felt safer.
“Sure.” he turned toward me and leaned in as I placed my hand around the back of his neck, wrapping my arm around him as he wrapped his around my waist. His full lips were soft, delicious and blended perfectly with mine.
When we pulled away, we smiled at each other and he said “I’ve been meaning to ask you, um, would you like to spend the night sometime?”
The critical peanut gallery in my head that tells me I’m a dirty slut for having a sex drive was quiet. I acknowledged the depths of my desire which felt alarming and breathtaking at the same time.
We agreed to figure out a day and time for our sex date, and when we parted ways, my eyes flooded with tears. Relief and a feeling that I was crossing a huge finish line, in reclaiming the severed sexual parts of myself filled my chest.
There was going to be a “before” and an “after”.
Previously, I was often hurt because my intentions weren’t communicated. I was usually looking for more, even when I was wanting something casual. I didn’t know then that casual was ok, that sex did not have to equal a relationship and I could be loved anyway.
I carried the belief that if someone wanted more, it meant I was more. I was constantly trying to figure out how to get more while keeping things casual. I only saw myself as valuable when someone else did. Underneath the surface were always the questions “Am I acceptable?”, “Do you see me?”, and “Do you want me?”
I was unable to have sex for pleasure because I was turned off from myself and concerned about what my partner would think, as well as what it would mean afterwards. I couldn’t accept that sometimes no-strings-attached sex was enough, and ok.
I felt happy, and excited on the day of our sexcapades. I searched my body for signs of nervousness as I met up with him, and only found peaceful contentment. My belly wasn’t clenched, and my shoulders were relaxed. I wanted his easy energy. I wanted to dive into his gorgeous smile. I wanted his body against mine simply because it felt good.
I didn’t need him to commit, or profess his undying love for me. We were here for the same reasons, to physically love and be loved. To hold each other with open palms and share this part of our lives together.
The experience was full of tenderness and adoration. His gaze, the softness and passion of his touch all blended together like a kaleidoscope of pleasure that was there for the taking.
I touched the underside of his arms, the backs of his knees and traced his collar bone. I let myself be turned on by the sight and feel of him. I was excited to give to him, not because I felt I had to, but because I wanted to.
That day sparked the beginning of the happiest sex of my life. Free from worry, doubt or confusion.
When I decided I was allowed to have sex for a myriad of reasons and still be valuable, I made everything about my sexuality and desire ok.
From that encounter forward I stepped out of shame and made communication, fun, and pleasure my top priorities.