Image via Pixabay
Every relationship has its own tradition, our own way of doing things and the story of who we are. Sometimes it happens in an instant, and sometimes it builds over time…and sometimes it changes.
Our tradition as always been that John Brownstone leads and I follow — in all things. I like it that way. So does he. But as our relationship deepens and grows over time, so too do our traditions.
Waiting for sex, for him to let me know he wants me, works most of the time. Until it doesn’t. Until I feel compelled to do something different.
Sometimes the tradition of our relationship is just that…a story we tell ourselves, a fiction easily changed by reality.
The first night…
Curled up into his side, I lay there in silence. Thinking. About how good he felt next to me. About how much I wanted to touch him.
I reached out and stroked his sleeping cock. It lay quietly, nestled against his testicles, unassuming. As I ran my fingers up and down the length, there was no immediate twitch, no evidence that his body was springing to action, ready to go. It was a gentle moment.
“Mmmm, that feels so good. I love it when you touch me like that.”
His voice was a deep rumble in the dark. If he’d stayed quiet, I might have gotten bored within a few moments…or worried that I was starting something I didn’t really feel like finishing. But the utter lack of assumption of why I stroked him, other than to make him feel good, gave me confidence, spurred my movements. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to, essentially, pet his cock.
So where and why and how did I climb on top and rub my bone dry cunt against his cock? Who was that woman who let go and “took charge” even if only briefly? I don’t know. Neither did he, I think.
Riding on top isn’t a talent of mine nor am I in good enough shape for it to be fun after the first 30 seconds. Under normal circumstances I wouldn’t say anything, let him fuck me, grit my teeth through the shaking muscles.
“Can we change positions? You’re having to work way too hard for this, and we’re both going to get hurt.”
So pragmatic and practical. Where was the erotic submissive fantasy of never having to say a word as the Dominant magically knows what to do? Yes, I have fallen victim to that way of thinking on more than one occasion.
He agreed. We never talked about it but I wonder if he was mildly surprised at how forthright I was both in the initiation and the conclusion of that moment.
The next night…
Nestled into his side, my thoughts calm for once, I reached out and stroked his cock.
“Mmmm, that feels good, babygirl. I love it when you touch me like that.”
“I know, Daddy.” I took a deep breath. “But I don’t think I’m up for sex tonight.”
“Me neither, babygirl. I’m too tired.”
The pressure was off. I could touch him, arouse his body even as I helped his mind relax, with no expectations. Another expectation — a former tradition, if you will — broken in an instant.
I can touch him, turn him on, and not have to live in guilt that I didn’t “finish” him. And I’m capable of speaking my mind, letting him know what I want and need…and what I don’t want or need.
Does this mean my days of wanting him to take control and lead are over? No, of course not. Does this mean I’ll always be this assertive and good with my words? Hell no. But it does mean old cycles can be broken, even if for only a moment. You don’t have to do the thing you’ve been told you have to do, you thought you had to do, or what others expect you to do.
We know this, I think. But we don’t always realize how insidious this thinking is.
Even in the healthiest relationships where we can be exactly who we are on any and every level, we have a belief about who we are and what we do. Sometimes we’ll keep repeating a cycle even though our mind and body scream for a change. We’ll question whether “the person we think we are” would do something like this.
Can I be a willing and happy submissive and still tell him how I want to fuck him or that I don’t want to fuck? Of course I can. But knowing and doing are two different things.
This week, I broke tradition, upended our (current) sexual routine, and surprised us both.