I had some unexpected sex this weekend. I mean the sex wasn't unexpected, it was the way it happened that was unexpected. I dropped hints to Mr. McKay all day that if he wanted to get up to something, then I was more than willing.
We had dinner, we were relaxing and it was growing later. To be honest, I was on the edge of annoyance because I knew if it got any later I would be too tired. Even though I didn't say as much, I kind of got the "chill out" look from my husband.
Finally, finally, finally, he says he's ready. Let's go upstairs. I'm trying to shake off my annoyed and pouty mood from just seconds ago. But I still have the sinking feeling that all may be lost for me. I've lost the horny headspace. Cookies and bed sound kind of appealing.
I'm trudging up the stairs, Mr. McKay is a few steps behind me. Almost at the top and he grabs me, pushes me down.
My hips are bent over the top step so my upper body is laying on the landing. He pulls down my pants. I'm immediately wet because I think he's going to spank me.
He smacks me once and I squeal. But then his tongue is on me, his hands are pulling my legs open and he's licking into me.
My mind will not turn off. We're on the stairs. In front of our door, which has windows in it. Granted, little windows, but still. We have neighbors!
I can't relax, I can't get into this. Oh, good god his tongue!
I'm having an inner struggle—I can either relax and enjoy, or surrender to the thoughts running through my head and call a halt to the whole thing. I don't like being a quitter.
Here I am hanging on the edge of a pretty massive orgasm. I can feel it building up. But it won't kick in. My face is smashed into the carpet, I'm moaning, my nails digging into the pile, leaving dark trails in the fibers. I can't quite get there.
Then Mr. McKay wraps a hand in my hair and wrenches my head back. I lost it. Seriously, the hair pulling, coupled with the oral, plus double penetration with his fingers? I was done. Only I wasn't. Because apparently I had no say in it, not that I'm complaining.
It was a great night and it made something clear to me. A few weeks back we were both kind of tired, but also pretty horny. I mean it happens. Neither of us were feeling too adventurous. And it ended up being nice. Being close and having any kind of sex is always nice, I do love my husband. But I could almost describe that night as an annoying orgasm.
I know that seems ridiculous, but that's the only way I can describe it. Nothing was really working, so that by the time we did actually achieve in getting me off it seemed like it had taken forever, and so much effort was put in that the outcome paled in comparison. I would have almost been happier just not having it all. Which sounds like a statement of crazy. Anyway, I can't be the only person who has ever had a frustrating orgasm.
The point is, I thought the link was spanking. We didn't have any kind of spanking that night, because I didn't want to seem like I needed it. And then when this happened I thought, shit, maybe I do need it. Every single time. Well how freaking high maintenance is that? And also, did I ruin myself forever?
I remember reading an article once, probably in some very reputable magazine like Cosmo or something, and it said that you could actually ruin sex for yourself if you used a vibrator too much. I mean, the rationale made sense, actual penises don't vibrate, and it was kind of saying if you became too dependent on achieving orgasm with a vibrator then you were setting yourself up for failure.
I don't think this article was very scientific. And I also don't see what the big deal is if you need to use a vibrator even when you're with your partner. Who cares? But this piece of information entered my head when I had the frustrating orgasm and I thought it was because there had been no spanking. I had not become dependent on a vibrator, but maybe I am dependent on spanking.
For some reason that annoyed me. I know I enjoy spanking, and it gets me hot, but I don't want it to be the be all end all. Maybe I shouldn't even be thinking that way, because if it is then I can't really change it.
But then the sex this weekend! There was no spanking, except for that single slap (and really, that's nothing). There was hair pulling and nipple tweaking and honestly, that helped. All of it did: being pinned down, being taken. The roughness of the whole situation.
I'm feeling slightly vindicated that I am not, after all, a one trick pony. I can have amazing orgasms without spanking. I guess it's all the same category, if you really wanted to dissect it. Which I don't.
The thing I find funny is I did not know what would make me come, but my husband did.
Life is good.