This is a blog post I wrote a week or two ago but didn’t have time to finish for the serious bunny like fucking we were doing because of what I’m about to talk about now.
When Wonderboy got home he told me that he was suffering from severe orgasm denial. He had wanted to play with himself so bad in the morning, and he wanted to let me know. This was the second time ever that Wonderboy has confessed that he wanted to play with himself, and that he had been kind of aggravated that he couldn’t.
Why, you ask? Why would he tell me he wanted to play with himself? Well, we made a deal. We will only have orgasms with each other. It’s not really orgasm denial seeing we are giving each other plenty of those. But I do feel there’s a shade of power play in there, which I really enjoy. In our case, it swings both ways. (At the time anyway.) I’ve told him, that he can play, but can’t come. He has no wishes in my regard. As a matter of fact, we’ve come to the conclusion through the good, bad and the ugly that I need so much more orgasms than him that it’s okay, even recommended, that I sometimes play alone.
And I have. He was kind enough to buy me a vibrator in order to show that he was wilfully assisting me to have more orgasms, even if he wasn’t involved in them. Time passed, and as my earthly passions tamed down some because of my depression and anxiety, I came to realize that it was all too easy to play – and leave any uncertainties unresolved. He couldn’t rebuff me, after all, if I didn’t make the moves on him.
I made a choice for our relationship’s benefit. At first I stopped watching porn. This was a while ago, some months maybe, because I realized that it was just enforcing my old sexual hang-ups. It was also somehow disconnecting me from Wonderboy, and the sex we wanted to have with each other, because seeing what I like in porn is such a huge turn off for me. I can’t deal with the power imbalances, let alone watch someone (in this case the woman) get hurt and degraded. That has been coming into our bedroom as a huge shadow on his back. I haven’t been able to distance myself from the porn I’ve seen, and from the male gaze that I don’t want to submit to, and I feel I am, if I do the same things – or more to the point – things that look the same.
I also read a article about a research, which I immidietly put into empirical testing. The main point of the Straight men, gay porn and other brain map mysteries is in my mind that the orgasm is such a powerful tool, a drug even, that it’s possible to alter brain maps with it. My problem has been that I’ve only ever been able to come by fantasizing about something completely different from what’s actually happening – even if what is happening is exactly what I’d normally fantasize about. It’s been a defence of some kind, and one that has given Wonderboy much grief. If you’re making love, connecting in all sorts of levels, sharing your most intimate kinks, and the other one still has to close her eyes and focus on something else to come. Well, I would be devastated.
So, when I read the article I was somewhat relieved and somewhat concerned for all the people who don’t or haven’t yet had sex but are screwing their brain maps with, say, Brazilian fart porn. I felt like I had been given another chance. I started to try masturbating and fantasizing with only Wonderboy in my mind. It didn’t go well at first. I’ve always had trouble adding any loved ones to my fantasies because of the overwhelming feelings I have for them. But after some odd sessions I managed. Hooray for me! I had succeeded in something I’d always thought impossible. I’d started to change a brain map I had.
Now, this gave way for a whole lot of questions. Wouldn’t masturbating by myself just enforce my brain maps that didn’t correlate any intimacy to orgasms? Wouldn’t it enforce the need to fantasize all over again, even if I was fantasizing about Wonderboy (to some extent, anyway)? The answer I got was yes. It would. I had gotten this far, so why wouldn’t I test my hypothesis all the way. After all, it couldn’t hurt, it could only help with my problems combining intimacy with sexuality. So I quit. (Wow, that sound kind of final.)
What it has done for me is, that I’ve become much more attentive to Wonderboy. I want to cuddle and caress him even more. I like surprising him with a freshly made dinner or a cleaning when it’s not my turn. I’m more attuned to him in many ways, and I am more open about what I want and when I want it. It used to be unheard of that I would suggest almost anything, except for sex itself. After that it was always just about Wonderboy. It’s pretty hard to be solely responsible for the intimacy and love making of two, and that’s what he’s been doing while I was sailing the safe seas of Fantasy Island.
I am happy with the decision I made. It has brought us closer, even though Wonderboy soon altered his view and went back to masturbating if I’m not home. (And of course, any other opportunity he chooses.) I have to overcome my fear of abandonment and face the possibility of rejection because he is my sole source of sexual pleasure. I love him for it.