I’ve talked a lot on this blog about my current lack of ease of being able to make myself come. To the extent I abstained for 4 days. But although I orgasmed four times the first day after that, and really easily, it’s slid back to how it was before.
Last time I tried to make myself come, I struggled and when I took a step back to look at what my head was doing, I realised I have a huge conflict which is impacting on my masturbatory habits.
You see, my fantasies until recently have been faceless, anonymous. Quite brutal at times but really dark, all about control being stripped away from me. I’ve always had these and always been able to get off on them; they’re my staple, my go-to, my guaranteed quick wank.
But lately and this was my revelation, since the coaching to overcome the years of baggage of that abuse incident, I’ve changed in more ways that I initially realised.
I’ve spent my entire adult life keeping myself boxed up. Keeping my desires tucked away. And even with TSH, when I’ve been able to let that out, I’ve still not known myself to the extent I do now.
The coaching made me understand my sexuality far better: I came out as poly, I wanted to sexually explore more. Things like, I want to be able to give a decent blow job without freaking out and I want someone to go down on me with me actively enjoying it and wanting more.
TSH and I have habits and cycles and baggage and it means some of the things I want, I can’t have with him. The circumstances with FLG mean that they can’t happen with him either.
But it doesn’t stop me fantasising.
My fantasies have shifted in my head. No longer anonymous, my head is saying “what if?” and finding new scenarios to try out.
For example, FLG and I are meeting up next week for a long lunch. It’ll all be in public spaces and we’ll have no time to do anything more than talk and kiss. Both things will be lovely of course, but there’ll be an underlying ache of wanting… more. Without realising, my head went to “what if we could find a way to fuck?” and ran through a whole range of different ideas that aren’t me.
I like clean, sanitised, hygienic, comfortable. Give me duvets and Sunday morning spankings and snuggles in bed.
Instead, I found myself thinking about blow jobs in isolated public toilet cubicles, or being fucked from behind as I brace myself against a sink.
I’m not a risk taker, yet my head is taking me in a different direction.
And I think that’s the problem. My head is split between old, reliable fantasies and the newer ones where I’m exploring my new found sexuality in a safe space.
Both things work, just not at the same time.
I don’t think I’m broken any more, just transitioning into a new phase of myself.
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