Let’s talk about sex!

Anyone who feels that the sex they are having is excellent will be able to tell you that communication is the key to good and satisfying intercourse. "Just tell your partner. You two need to talk. Ask what he wants," are the most common tips of manuals and best friends. But if everything was that simple, people today wouldn't need therapists. 

I used to be smart about communication, too, but I wasn't and still am not the best example. Because I always enjoyed sex, if I don't count the first awkward one, I strived to express my desires, to have the courage to tell them, but in the end, I retreated into myself. And then it built up inside me until it exploded like an atomic bomb. Looking back, I think it's funny. I did not express my desire not to hurt the one beside me and let him rest on his laurels of the best in bed, but at some point, I had to drop the bomb.

Communication is terrific, but it's hard as hell. While everyone is smart enough to know that with the person you're close to or you love, it shouldn't be difficult, every time I had to bring this topic up, it felt like I had to build a tower with pebbles that could crumble to dust with just one wrong word. My fear only grew stronger from experience to experience. 

This happened with a more experienced one for the first time, or at least he said he was. Today I would think twice if I even took off my shirt and pants if a man told me he had dealt with all types of women and knew exactly what to do. At the beginning of my sexual journey, I did not know this, so I was in awe, but at the same time, this caused some expectations in me. I gave him one point for slow undressing, but even this one was quickly lost during the oral stimulation of a peach. The first few minutes were exemplary, a lot of tongues, although not always in the right places, and then the nibble began, which soon turned into biting a clit. I thought it would fall off that night, and I must sacrifice my pleasure forever. 

Unfortunately, that didn't make me turn his head or stop the game. No, instead, I started to cry, and the peach dried up like the Sahara, and out of my throat came a moan that inadvertently predicted my fake orgasm after just a few minutes. His face was shining with pride, and I could not knock the smile off his cheeks at that moment. There wasn't even a trace of my peach's juice on it. But his white teeth, the enemies of the clit, glowed in the dusk. After a few get-to-know-eachother evenings, which were getting rougher, and my peach was being rescued by more and more frequent screams, I had enough.

I started talking about things I like and also mentioned oral sex. Then a smile disappeared from his face. The only thing left there was a disgusted and confused expression. I was expecting a storm, but I got a tsunami. He said that I have no idea what I'm talking about and that I'm really fucking special. Since then, our relationship has gone downhill. I lost his teeth forever. 

Oral sex has always been a problem. I was able to control the speed, as well as the postures, but the lowering of the face between my legs seemed more intimate, so it was more difficult for me to give directions, and most of them were grateful to me for indulging in their work, whatever it was. Only later, when I was much more relaxed during sex, I realized that this would not work or I would lose my pleasure forever. 

Besides rotating the tongue, I also had trouble discussing that sometimes sex does not suit me. Everyone understands the days, but hardly anyone understands the weeks. But there are times when, even though I love sex immensely, I prefer to lie in bed and watch a thousand reruns of an episode of the series I like. That's when dic pics, pornographic videos, or talking about sex won't make my peach wet. At that time, I need physical contact to have sex. It is sometimes difficult to tell someone who feels an intense tingling between his legs, even more difficult if most of the time you are the one who is overly sexually aroused at any time of the day.

Sometimes, when this happens to me, I prefer to keep the information to myself. I'm thrilled if someone else takes the initiative to have sex, but it's not from me at that time. That's when I'm in a different world. Since I don't want to look like someone who doesn't enjoy sex, as men like to say about women, I don't tell them the truth. Because this is usually not me, and I'm afraid they won't understand, and I'll be deprived of sex forever again. Just as I was in a relationship above, deprived of oral stimulation. 

Nothing is black and white. Talking about sex can be good when a reasonable person is standing before you. When it doesn't, no goddamn conversation helps you. At this point, most of the manuals would tell you that your partner is not worth it and that you should get out of here as soon as possible, but if it is, you might want to wait another minute or two or maybe talk on the third day will lead to bombastic sex.