Masturbation Monday

Good Conversation Turns Me On

You know what turns me on? Good conversation.

Yes, a tight ass, soulful eyes, and strong hands are nice. Love them, actually.

But an ability to get down deep into the heart of a topic makes me wet. When John Brownstone tells me something I didn’t know, sharing a piece of his soul, I want to roll over and spread my legs.

Of course, a thick finger deep in my swollen cunt works, too. Absolutely, a tongue on my clit or hand in my hair sets my skin on fire.

But tell me your dreams, your fantasies, your hopes, your worries and I’ll rub myself against your body, desperate to get as close to your body as I am to your mind.

We make time nearly every night to talk before we go to sleep. Sometimes we stay still and quiet, basking in the moment together. Other times, we share hopes, dreams, and plans for the future. And sometimes, like the other night, we work though an argument.

Our arguments never make sense to me. We rarely fundamentally disagree, and I want to please him so much that I’m happy to compromise on most (but not all) things. (Note: that only works because he’s also willing to compromise. I don’t just roll over and accept everything he says or does.)

So when there’s an argument or a fuss, it’s usually because we’re not understanding the other’s point of view. We agree on principle but the delivery sucks.

It took two full days to have time to deal with it. I knew I was “right” in as much as you can be when you’re arguing about almost nothing. But I didn’t know why I was right, and I wasn’t sure how he felt.

“Are you ever going to tell me what that was about?”

Silence. When you’re with someone long enough, you learn to tell their silences apart. This was a thinking moment. I’ve also learned not to rush him through a thinking silence. He needs to collect his thoughts before he shares them.

“I don’t feel very Dominant. I don’t feel like I have much control over anything.”

It was a light bulb moment. I felt the truth when he said it and realized I understood and agreed. The reasons why were right there in front of us. They were things we’d been thinking and talking about for over a year.

This time, we went deeper into his feelings, how we could work on it, and what he needed from me as my partner and my Dominant.

It was a serious moment, and I treated it as such. But if I had been wearing panties, they would have been soaked. Every deep conversation makes me feel a little closer to him. I want to crawl inside his head and learn more, swimming in his thoughts and feelings until I’m coated in them. And I want to hump his leg, ride his cock, and be as physically close as possible while we share that mental connection.

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About the author

Kayla Lords

I am an erotic author, sex blogger, podcaster, freelance writer, an opinionated marketer, and speaker. You can find me online sharing my innermost sexual thoughts and experiences, teaching other bloggers how to make money writing about sex, and helping kinksters have healthy BDSM relationships. I'm also a masochistic babygirl submissive with an amazing and sadistic Daddy Dom and business partner, John Brownstone. Welcome to my kinky corner of the internet!

6 Comments

  • Yes the art of conversation has been lost with computers and phones and other devices for quick modes of communication. So when I have the attention focused on me, focused on them speaking and as you said, saying something you don’t know, teaching. Explaining something, or even just rattling on about something, working through it out loud while you listen… OMG… makes me wet too. I love a good conversationalist, I HATE having to carry the conversation. It’s just nice to sit back and nod and listen and focus on them, observe, their facial expressions, how their lips move, the unheard uncontrolled conversation that it their body language… Damn HOT.

  • “Every deep conversation makes me feel a little closer to him. I want to crawl inside his head and learn more, swimming in his thoughts and feelings until Iā€™m coated in them.” Absolutely YES to this

    Mollyx

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