Sex in the real world

So how has sex been for B and me since our first success?

Well, we’re still working on it. As soon as he left that night in October, my low abdomen began aching, and there was a strong constant ache for more than a day. I knew it was not my abdomen, but my cervix, which, due to our position and B’s enthusiasm, had received quite a bit of the action. I read that bent-knee positions shorten thrusting space, so they are not recommended if the cervix is getting sore. I also read that, when fully aroused, the cervix moves up and out of the way. Sigh. And due to the tightness in my hips and legs, B and I cannot figure out missionary! My pelvis needs to be tilted up, but the wedge I bought is almost too wedgey to be comfortable… The whole thing would be funny if it weren’t so frustrating. Okay, we still find it a bit funny.

Our encounters after that first success haven’t always gone smoothly or been entirely pleasurable. I remember finding things a bit chafey and uncomfortable and feeling disappointed/sad/frustrated that sex isn’t a linear progression from successful penetration to good to great. We’ve done it well once and now we know how to do it and it just gets better from here! Right? Nope. That first successful time was the most pleasurable, and I was frustrated that I couldn’t get back to that. I was feeling like a failure at sex. Like I had the female equivalent of erectile dysfunction. I can understand a man who wants sex, is attracted to and loves his partner, and can’t get an erection. And since I can have an orgasm by myself whenever I want, I know it’s a psychological issue. I’ve been very conscious these past few years that if the opportunity for sex ever presented itself, I may very well need sex therapy to succeed at it. Because I’m 31. Because I have CP. Because my only sex has been solo and my body simply has never learned to be around another body.

B wants it to be enjoyable for me and feels bad when it isn’t. Recently, even with foreplay and lube, it just wasn’t feeling good. And it all comes back to arousal and my not getting there before everything gets underway. It’s so hard to talk about because we had the same conversation months ago, when B worried that he wasn’t “arousal material” for me. And if I’m still telling him I’m not becoming aroused, then he’ll still think it’s him! So I took some time and wrote some things down before we approached the subject again.

Here’s what I started to wonder: Have I been conditioned and/or misled by a lifetime of fiction? Of course I have.

In romantic movies and novels everything is sexy and breathy, steamy and flowy. That’s what I think of when I think about sex. That’s what I’ve come to expect. I have not read a single novel that mentions lube or clitoral stimulation specifically. Even the authors writing about realistic first time sex like Judy Blume and Norma Klein didn’t write about those things. But I take heart when I read that most women stimulate their clitoris (or their partner does) during intercourse–and a majority of women fantasize to get really turned on. I always thought that what was actually happening was going to be enough to turn me on, and I’m heartened to read that imagination/fantasy is pretty normal, without meaning role-playing or fetishes. Not that I’m against those–maybe I just haven’t discovered mine yet…

December 7th. So I let B know this–that when I have felt inklings of arousal it’s been in those steamy, breathy moments. I love the tickly, laughing moments, too, but they don’t contribute to arousal. I know that in order to get to that “really ready” state of arousal that I have to just do what I need to do myself. And I said I wouldn’t be comfortable doing that with B there unless he was doing it too! (To himself). So we tried it. We made out, getting steamy and breathy, and all the while I was thinking that I couldn’t do it, that I was still embarrassed. But finally I did and he did and we still kissed, and it was pretty good. I mean, not like it is when I’m alone. But it will just take time and practice. When I first got together with B, I was really scared of kissing him. I’ve come a long way!

Here’s where things stand with me and the possibility of an incredible sex life:

Points against:

Difficulty becoming fully aroused with B, in part because–

Only learned to orgasm via masturbation at 24. Have only ever done it the same way. (Body only knows one way, in solitude.)

Difficult positioning due to CP.

Points for:

Comfortable with the body generally–never have thought sex/genitalia/masturbation was dirty/bad/sinful.

Comfortable being naked with B, with lights on.

Know how to make myself aroused and have orgasm.

Waited for the right person, who is patient and understanding, and willing to experiment.


B and I are doing great. It’s been seven months now since we met via OKC. It’s strange how normal it feels to be in love. It’s not at all like it is in fiction either, no drama or arguing and reuniting (my life would not make a very interesting novel). It’s just good. I enjoy being with B, and there isn’t anything about him that bugs me or that I ignore for the sake of the relationship. What can I say? I love the guy.






October 29th. B came over after work the following Monday, and I answered the door in my robe again. =) After we cleared the  dinner dishes, I don’t think we even sat down. I said, “Are we going to go make out?” And we did. On top of the covers, he took off his clothes and untied my robe. He made attempts at Piccadilly. I know I have to speak up and tell him when it’s good and when it isn’t. But it’s not easy–the sensations change so quickly. By the time I open my mouth to say, yes, there, he’s somewhere else.

Once he teased about my needing “another twenty minutes” and I said, “Have you been timing it?” I’m glad that he’s doing his best with foreplay, even though I’m not being particularly helpful.

B asked, “Do you want to try?”

I said, “I don’t know.” I was scared that it would be painful again.

He told me, “You’re in charge.”

We took out the (organic) oil-based lube and I put a generous amount on both of us, paying special attention to the part of me that was going to need to stretch the most. The thing was, I wasn’t aroused. Once again. I’d felt moments that were good, but nothing lasting to help me along the path of physiological arousal. I tried to say that we could just do a bit more, now that we were lubed, and if I felt ready I’d guide him in. I don’t think I was being clear though. I needed to state: I want you to move against me externally first. He’d done it a bit with his hands before, but never with lube.

So there I was, tasked with guiding him in, with no knowledge of what would happen when I did. We didn’t use a pillow or the wedge this time, but I had my knees bent up on either side of him, my legs almost all the way around him. He started in a bit, and I said, “Ow. Okay, don’t move.” But the “ow” was much less than it had been before. And as he stayed still and I breathed and got used to him, I found–to my extreme relief–that it did not hurt. When he made it all the way in, he pushed up against something that felt good. I was so happy to find it pleasurable that I held onto him and thought I might cry.

He said something about this not being a practice run anymore, and I agreed that this felt like the real thing. And that’s all the play-by-play I think I’ll write here. It was really nice, though at the end I felt like I had to pee like nobody’s business (that’s common, since he’s pressing up against the urethral sponge internally). Afterward I only felt a little stretched, no pain. Lying together after, he asked me what I thought and how I felt. And I was relieved to be able to tell him I felt good.

Before he left he kissed me and said, “To our success.”

Flannel Sheets in October

October 24th. B started his new job on October 22nd. He would now be a working man, complete with an hour commute by express bus every morning and evening. He’d be more tired and we’d see each other less. He’d come over one or two times for a few hours during the week before we’d spend most of the weekend together. The first time I saw him after he started work on Monday was Wednesday evening. We held each other tight upon greeting, having played phone/email tag since Monday. After dinner, we made out with all our cold weather clothes on, until I invited him to climb between my flannel sheets, just put on for the first time this season.

I’d been stretching with my fingers and my toy regularly, and practicing my kegels, and I could tell things were improving just a little. It felt so good to be close and warm together between clean flannel sheets. Here’s what I have in my journal about that night: He spent some time at Piccadilly and it was pretty nice. Somehow there’s got to be more of the kissing and holding and the whole mood, but right now he’s still concentrating on getting it right. I spent some time on top, and it was actually kind of difficult to decipher what I was feeling anatomically. Then he held onto me and turned us to that we were on our sides facing each other, and he moved against me, making his sexy heavy breathing sounds. Though I wasn’t completely aroused, I think I could have gotten there. He was pretty close, and then–our alarms went off. He had to go home and get some sleep before taking the early bus. We laughed and he got up to go. He says I’m “too good” at nibbling his ear. I love the sounds he makes.

October 26th. Friday night B came over again, after his first full week of work. I had just showered and was wearing only a robe when I answered the door. I had another plan. I put the backup sheet on the bed and planned to give him a massage with the orange oil, since I hadn’t gotten to try it out on him yet. When he arrived, I told him I had something to give him, but first he had to take off his shoes and wash his hands. I felt weird asking him to wash his hands (which I wanted him to do after he touched his shoes), but if they were going to be touching my naked self, I wanted them to be clean!

When he’d done as I’d requested, I told him he was getting a survived-the-first-week-of-work massage. A naked massage. He gamely stripped down to his boxers. Sometime I want to do massages that are quiet and sensual, but this time we chatted, and I spilled oil and knelt awkwardly beside him, though I was eventually able to kneel with a knee on either side of him. Then I asked him to turn over and I did arms/legs/chest too. We kissed and had a lovely time making out.  When we kissed and he held me, I felt warm and melty, which is the first time that had happened, and it made me feel hopeful. Off came our remaining clothes. I liked it when he touched me, without worrying about Piccadilly, with all the kissing and the holding and the breathing. I straddled him and kissed him and thought that if we had been lubed up, that I might have tried it right then. It seemed possible. Then he did spend some time at Piccadilly and even asked yes/no questions so I was able to give feedback. But once, he was being really enthusiastic in the wrong spot and it’s just difficult to interrupt and give direction, and moving his hand also interrupts/breaks the mood. Anyone figured out “beginning bedroom communication for introverts”?

B asked if I’d been reading The Guide, and I said I’d been busy with the two articles I’d shown him. I’d been wanting to tell him about my progress. I even put the toy in my nightstand (doesn’t usually live there). I wanted him to see what I’d been working with. When I showed him, he said, “Wow, that’s big!” And it seems big, but his girth is half as much again, at least. I said, “You’re the next size up.” He asked me when I wanted to try the next size up. I said, “Now?” I said that putting the toy in first would stretch me a bit. I actually did it, too. Lubed it up and stuck it in, and he looked down at it there, lifting the covers, and he felt it. We laughed at its highest speed (I never use it that high). He’d never used a toy before, and I wondered how he felt about it.

Of course by this time, things were no longer kissy and breathy and sexy. And I had to pee. Then he went after me, and I put the toy back in while he was in there. Back in bed we kissed and he asked me, you on top? Me on top? So I said me on top. With me climbing up there and getting lube and warning that it’s a practice run, we did not sustain a mood and I wasn’t aroused. And neither was he. And we realized how difficult me on top would actually be and gave up. B said, “You’ve got me nervous” and then amended it to “I’m nervous.” I said I was nervous too. I had admitted I was afraid that it wouldn’t work/would be painful again and that we’d have to stop and both be disappointed again. I don’t know how to sustain my tenuous arousal through the logistics and I was a bit relieved when he said it wasn’t working and we decided to stop.

October 27th. We spent all of Saturday together…with his mom, going on a fundraiser walk in another town. So now I’ve met her. We were back to our town by 7pm, and B and I parted at 9:30 so he could have a day to himself on Sunday before starting another work week.