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.”