You may need to read this previous post to understand what I am about to write.
I thought it about it all last week…the question he asked me: What are you willing to give?
And what I finally came up with was: complete control of my body…and complete trust.
It seemed revelatory to me, but he already knew.
Last night, in order to avoid a big conversation about it, I texted it to him. He sat close enough to me on the couch that I could reach out and touch him, but saying the words seemed beyond me at the time. So in true “check yes or no” fashion, I, like a child, sent him a note.
He, like an adult, responded by asking me why in the world I was texting him when he was sitting right next to me. I was confused by his seemingly dismissive reaction, considering how much thought I’d actually given the prospect. But he explained that he was not minimizing anything; he just already knew it. I proffered the question: Then why did you have me think about it all week…if you already knew what I’d say?
But, then, psychologically speaking, isn’t that exactly what he should have done? Coming to this conclusion on my own is exactly what should have happened. And his knowing the conclusion before I even came to it shows his deep understanding of me.
Later in the evening, as I got ready for bed, my mind flitted to masturbation. I often masturbate before I got to bed, to release tension and help myself relax completely into sleep. But, I considered it. If I was offering complete control of my body, it meant I should ask before I did a thing of this nature.
After kissing him goodnight, I added a bashful request to use my vibrator before I went to sleep.
He asked me if I just needed a quick release to fall asleep, and I answer yes. Opting not to let me use the vibrator (by myself), he instead came and took care of the issue himself. He placed his mouth on me and inserted the vibrator, sucking and licking me to climax.
He didn’t fuck me. He knew what I was after and, because he knows all of my buttons, it didn’t take long.
Just as I had provided something he needed from me – the request (which was likely more powerful – and surprising – than telling him he had control over my body).
I found a little piece of that cathartic space that one does when following direction and being handled expertly. That space that brings more than just an orgasmic letting go. A few tears of pent up energy slid down the sides of my face when I came, and I softened more deeply than I would have if I’d masturbated.
There is a long and winding journey ahead, but this was a patently positive step in the right direction for us.
Before he left me to sleep, he told me I was not allowed to masturbate without permission. His command, at first, brought a tiny bite of panic; however, his hands slid across my torso softly petting me calm, and I felt with every cell the freedom that comes with giving up control in this way.
I don’t have to worry.
He’s got this.