It might sound scary, and boy was it scary when it happened, but there were some good consequences from my possible bad reaction to painkillers on the motorway.
When I needed to stop the car, when I panicked and lost my nerve, which I never ever do, Wonderboy was calm and kept asking questions. Are you alright? Do you need to stop? Don’t stop there, there are cars joining in, go a bit further. Everything is okay. You’re going to be fine. Do you need water? Take some water, it will help. Can I do anything?
When I finally came back, buckled up and before I started driving, he first hugged me and kissed me. No matter I had been puking. No matter I was dirty and cold from the smudged snow outside. He caressed my hair and took me into his arms and warmed me up.
Later he said: I would’ve called the emergency number, if you’d passed out. He was calm and sure of himself. He wasn’t afraid and didn’t let my panic become his. And somehow, in all the fear and panic I was in, I thought: This is the man who will make it possible for me to go through labour. He will stand my my side, and I can trust him.
It was such a profound revelation, that it’s hard to describe its total toll. It was the first time I have ever totally given myself to someone. I was really not in control, I let someone else take care of me. I didn’t really even do that as a kid. I was pretty headstrong, wanted to do things by myself. But I did it now. And I realized, that Wonderboy can carry me. That he expects to. He is, after all, in love with me. He will not let me down.
I feel that something truly shifted as a consequence. When we made love I could feel his cock inside me, sending small waves of pleasure like I was made out of pleasure. It felt like it used to, before. I felt only happiness and pleasure. I wasn’t worried or pushing for something. I was enjoying, not thinkin about pregnancy or his pleasure. Solely mine. Bathing in his love and his devotion.
I wanted to watch his face. It used to make me uncomfortable, seeing it open and fragile like that in the throes of passion. But it just made me happy. It made me hot.
Sadly, all this commotion, hardships unnumbered had left Wonderboy in a state of uncertainty about our sex life. He is too tuned to my pleasure, worrying about my emotions and not concentrating on his own. He even confessed that most of the enthusiastic blowjob I gave him today went unnoticed because he was contemplating would certain dominating actions make me sad. It’s hard to enjoy something, if you have to worry about someone else’s possibly hurt feelings at the same time, so he couldn’t really get into it.
So, I finally broke it down to him. Let’s make up a safeword. If I don’t use it, he can be sure I’m okay and loving it, whatever the play and whatever and however forceful my yelps and actions. We decided on red. It seems to be working so well for an entire community, and it’s pretty non-hilarious, so I’m probably able to say it without losing it.
And that’s where we’re left at today. With a safeword and a promise to negotiate eveything from now on as well as we can.