are you curious?

what if the way to the pleasure of your delicious messiness was to fuck your way through the pain of it?

to fuck like your life depended on it, even?

what if you could stop thinking about it, and surmount the greatest emotional messes through the wisdom of your own exploring hands?

what if the only thing you really fear is feeling something different?

i’ve been fucking my way to freedom lately.

tonight was intense.

i wore a dress with nothing underneath. lace and silk. blindfolded myself as an experiment, both to see if other senses would heighten, and to tether me to sensation. to help me return to my skin in moments of frustration, when i’m lost and confused in my own body, wondering where to go next.

i remember to breathe when i feel the fabric upon my cheek.

i hit record, lied back, and began to explore. a very slow start. though i was intrigued by the blindfold. it was distracting at times. mainly the sound of it, but nevertheless, i enjoyed it.

once i freed my eyes things were different. no music tonight - a change i’ve been playing with.

i’m so sensitive. i wondered whether the music i tended to play was actually hindering my experience. overriding it. replacing the contents of my consciousness with something else.

spoiler alert: i was right.

i noticed… more of myself. felt like i was going deeper into my own emotions than i ever have.

but first there was nothing. just empty space. i lied there for what felt like ten years, feeling a whole lot of nothing coming.

a swell appeared.

frustration. why isn’t anything happening?

in this moment, i became utterly distraught with self conscious thoughts. i noticed myself contracting. closing in. not knowing what was on the horizon. confused. where is this coming from? my head spins.

deep breath.

i found a moment of gratitude when i remembered the pleasure i’ve experienced in my own curiousity.

i remembered how juicy it felt knowing he wanted to see this.

i wondered why i suddenly questioned everything.

with each passing thought i noticed myself less attached to what it meant.

i moved back into sensation.

pain.

“fuck this,” i think. “maybe i’ll just grab my vibrator and not deal with it tonight.” but i stop myself because i know avoidance is not how i progress. and i know i have the energy for this journey. it’s just… not what i expected.

i fantasize a lot. set the stage. one of my favorite kinds of foreplay. but fantasy and reality don’t always meet. and tonight they most certainly did not.