Sex with my partner is a bit of a journey of discovery. I think about where the trip could go with us today, pack my suitcase in the nicest after-wash, take another thorough shower and then drive to him.
During the first few weeks, of course, everything was still so new and exciting. How do you look there, how does it smell under your arms, oh where does this scar come from and oops, yes, naked I have a lot more thighs than my jeans showed before.
Getting involved was not that easy and since I didn’t intend to pretend forever or to talk nicely, we quickly went to extremes.
Getting involved was not that easy and since I didn’t intend to pretend forever or to talk nicely, we quickly went to extremes. Here I am, in the most beautiful moonlight, leaning forward, in full, naked splendour. This image has burned itself in.
Just let it fall
It is also burned in that we started slowly and have now switched to “trying everything once” because: You only live once. Over the months my trust grew and I even let – for the first time – my soft, streaked belly be touched. Completely without privacy protection, lying on your side!
Mothers and people with similar connective tissue may know what I mean. This belly, which always points a little in the wrong direction when we push our way through to it in the spoon position. So he legally stroked my firm costal arch, landed on my presentable hip boil and grabbed it courageously.
There was something new to discover here, namely me
Ouch – the situation burned itself into me now. Because otherwise I’m very ashamed. I have never been at a loss for an excuse, an explanation or an attempt to escape. It was different here now. There was something new to discover here, namely me.
So no wiggling out and asking me how he thinks now, but subtle elegance in which I tried to squeeze a pillow between his hand and my buff. Underestimating his strength and ambition at that will not happen to me again. Pillow away, hand on stomach, whispering loving words in your ear, on.
I stayed quiet, focused on the actual act, and rewarded us both with several highlights.
No one is perfect
While my ex was still frustrated because he thought I wasn’t getting wet fast enough, this topic was kind of off the table. Self-love under the influence of love for others grew into really good sex. I always thought I was good at it, but what had I done to myself and my body over the years?
I thought I was always good at self-love, but what had I done to myself and my body over the years?
So I had long since understood that not every penis looks the same, not every man has a hard stomach or slippery nipples. Had that ever stopped me in any way from lusting for, let alone loving, my respective partners? Rather not.
So now I lie in front of, on or under him in all positions that seem comfortable to me and reduce my feeling of shame, but build up my ego. I’m happy when he’s happy, but more importantly, I’m happy when I just stop worrying.
There was an exception the other day, however, when we fell upon each other freshly after the Thai restaurant and I visibly carried the gas in front of me. Sitting on his face at that moment seemed wrong to me. After all, I wanted to see his beautiful blue eyes too.
