BDSM, Coming out, Craving for more, embracing pain, Fantasies, Submissive tendencies, What Women Really Want

When Fucking Is Not Enough

I wish he would just do whatever he wants to. If he worries about me getting off, it just feels so forced even if he does everything he normally enjoys doing. I wish he would stop before we move from kissing to something else.

He would look me in the eye and command me.

Lay on your tummy.

And he would hit me. He’d hit my buttocks. He’d caress my neck and thrust me on the bed by my neck, strangling me at the same time. He’d come on top of my back and suffocate me. He’d whisper things in my ear.

You’re not going anywhere. I’m keeping you here, quiet. You have to be still, so you won’t get hurt. I don’t want to hurt you.

He’d do unspeakable things to me. Unspeakable because even I’m not sure what I’d want them to be. Everything I want is a reflection of what turns him on – and the other way around. I want more pain. I want more. But I don’t want him to do anything he doesn’t want to do. I don’t want him to do anything that doesn’t turn him on. But I want him to play with me more. Outside sex. In a sexual space, but outside the hunt for orgasm.

Then he could do whatever the hell he wants. Fuck me, pull my hair, strangle me in all sorts of ways, kiss me, caress me, play with me. It kills me that he wants the same thing. Somehow we just don’t seem to get there.

Yesterday he stopped right in the middle of things and just lay there on top of me. I was gasping, swetty and really, really close, but felt it wane when I saw the hurt and scared look in his eyes.

What’s wrong? I asked, already a little disheartened. We unraveled. I tried to grap on to his cock after a while, finish what we started but he pulled it away and said it needed the rest, so things would maybe work some other day this week. I was in a shock. We hadn’t had sex in three or four days, so how could his cock be all bent out of shape. I told him that. I also told him that I’ve been living in need and it was his fault. He told me that he was also living without any.

But you are the one who doesn’t want to, I answered. We lay there quietly, my head on the mattress still on the same level as his cock. I put my head in my hands, so I wouldn’t have to see it. Seeing it makes me so happy, makes me want to touch it and play with it. That was now definately on hold.

Finally he said: It just didn’t feel that sexual. I didn’t feel enjoyment.

I pondered on that for a while. I cried a bit.

Then I realized. I said: It’s not anything physical. It’s all in your head.

He nodded after a minute or two. Yeah. I think that’s true.

You just don’t have the courage to do what you want to. Why are you so scared to do what you want to?

I don’t know.

He pulled me close to him and hugged me to show me some things were not unclear. We kissed.

It just isn’t enough for either of us. We should have settled that already but it just keeps on coming back. It used to come so naturally. All the side dishes. We didn’t have to think if we could have sex without them or what they meant because they were always there. It’s harder when it’s not a shared secret anymore. It’s so real. Now, we have to make peace with the realization that fucking just isn’t enough. How could he otherwise have said it just didn’t feel pleasurable? He was fucking me for goodness’ sake! What else do you need? Well, obviously. A lot more.

Caressing his face I whispered: You should do whatever you want. To me. That is what I want. That is what turns me on, too.

I could feel his cock twitch against me. It started to grow. He smiled tentatively. Yeah? he asked. Yeah, I said. And then he did. He strangled me, pulled me agains him from behind, up from the bed and fucked me like there was no tomorrow. I get hot just thinking about it. But it was a minute or two in the end.

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4 thoughts on “When Fucking Is Not Enough

  1. That. Fucking hot. And so sweet.

    “You should do whatever you want. To me. That is what I want. That is what turns me on, too.”

    Too right.

  2. Oh, thank you, Thumper. *Blush*

    It is a vicious circle to be turned on by what turns on the other. It makes it hard to give instructions or to interact in a way as to get there. Damn.

    For example, we were kissing yesterday and I kind of felt that he was taking on a more aggressive role so I tentatively just stopped kissing. It’s a thing I (we) have that he just takes me like a ragdoll and I don’t reciprocate at all. It’s oddly perverse, too, to be kissed and not do anything back. Makes me shiver just thinking about it, in a good way I mean. Well, yesterday Wonderboy stopped after a while and asked “so you want to do it like that?” It felt like an accusation, so I answered “I sensed it was something you were trying to get to. Was I wrong? We’re doing this together, you know.”

    We ended up doing different things, mainly him hitting me in different tender spots, and that was his idea. Sometimes I think that if he hasn’t yet decided to go somewhere himself, if he hasn’t yet asked me or commanded me, I can ruin the buzz if I’m too quick to be subject to his will. But I really want to.

  3. And now that I’ve had a minute to consider it I realize how incredibly privilegded I am to be able to say that. Because I probably wouldn’t be happy at all if all he wanted to do was, well, fuck.

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