26. Anal sex? are you anal about it?
This is the part where I must say, “This is not my favorite subject to talk about.” I’ve been dreading getting to this one, actually wondering if I should skip it. I guess it will defeat the purpose of “Erotic Truth” if I don’t speak on it.
Excuse me a moment.
Okay, I’m back.
Many years ago, I was in a relationship. Sexual heaven and hell resided in him.
The Heaven: He was the man who introduced me to how heavenly oral sex could be. He was the first man I was involved with I ever told about my sexual fluidity philosophy. He was the first man to embrace it and encourage its’ pursuit. He made me feel comfortable with being a sexual being; I was very timid in the past.
But things changed. He changed. He changed for the worst. A monster took his place; I no longer recognized him.
The Hell: He belittled me almost all the time. He became possessive. I couldn’t have friends--male or female. He stopped being patient for sex. He took when I wouldn’t give and not just in the traditional hole.
You get where I’m going with this?
So I am not gung-ho about the idea of anal sex.
I do like that area being stimulated as far as the licking and rubbing of the outside of it. With the finger, I find myself freezing up slightly but if I am relaxed enough, the finger is able to slide in. Although I know my vaginal area gets wetter when my anus receives stimulation, my mind still flashes back, and I’m hit with panic.
Perhaps it’s not having the control that’s the main part. I feel like I’m helpless, even when I know I can just tell the person to go slower or stop.
But I didn’t have that option then; my stop wasn’t heard; the person kept going anyway, no matter how much it hurt.
I know the person in my life now wouldn’t hurt me, but the memories of the past still haunt me. Not as bad as they used to, but they still do.
Maybe it would have helped if I had been able to really talk to someone about the situation but I had no one back then. He had chased away almost all my friends; I carried around the pain and suffering.
The only way I could deal was to push it in a corner of my mind and hope it wouldn’t resurface. The things you don’t deal with eventually return, so now I’m battling this with someone it shouldn’t be an issue with because he isn’t the one who did the crime.
So I guess I am anal about it, until I have fully healed; that healing isn’t entirely on my timetable.
Deuces.
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