I never figured that a post with a title like “Naked Dancing Pixies” would be a hard one to write. Nevertheless, I’ve sort of been avoiding it for the last half an hour.
But I think I need to blog about this, because it’s scary and intimidating and at the same time unbelievable.
There’s a bloke in my life. For further reference, I’ll call him IO, because he’s the bloke I blogged about in If Only. He’s a lovely friend, a lovely flirt and I… well, I just feel good around him. Albeit slightly uncomfortable. But that’s mainly because he’s so sweet to me, and sometimes, that just becomes too much.
That isn’t his fault. It’s mine. I can’t really process what he tells me, because it’s him and… well, I dunno. I never really expected all of it to come from him.
Fuck, how do I write this?
He wanted to distract me from the noises in the house. I wanted to be turned on. Hence… cybersexting.
At first I couldn’t really believe that he was asking me to slip my hands down my knickers. Then, my brain started whirring. How does this work logistically? (Yes, I’m such a slut for logistics…) I mean, I can’t type and finger myself at the same time, right?
But fuck logistics. I did as instructed. Waited for what came next. He told me to stroke my outer lips, until my breathing was ragged and my fingers were wet.
I sat there, with my hands down my pants, feeling incredibly self-conscious. The noises upstairs weren’t making it any better. I was terrified that I’d be caught in the act.
But when he told me to get myself wet… I got wet.
Like proper, sopping wet with a throbbing clit to match.
I’d never been put on the spot like that by my own body. I’ve never ever felt so incredibly aroused.
So aroused even, that frigging felt way too intense. Fuck, MOVING felt too intense. I have never actually squirmed in my life until that moment.
His words kept coming. I felt so naked, although I was clothed. He does have a way of making me feel like that.
I knew it was going to hurt if I went any further. There’s only so much my body can take, and this just felt like crossing a boundary too far above my head.
I asked him to stop. And then I completely fell apart.
I sobbed because I felt betrayed by my own body. Like it didn’t want me to quench this arousal. I did not expect this. And I didn’t like it.
And in the process, I think I accidentally upset IO. Which I hate myself for. It’s so not his fault and he shouldn’t feel guilty.
I don’t know what that says about me. I don’t really know how to feel after twice going through such intense sexual emotions with him.
What I do know is that I am fucking terrified of ever experiencing something so physically intense again. Doesn’t matter who with.
I want to feel like I’m lifted. Like a naked dancing pixie in the air, giggling her arse off because of how much she’s enjoying this magical thing that is ecstasy. I want to leave my body and hover above myself. I want to evaporate in glitter.
This might all sound massively corny, but that’s how I want it to be. I don’t want it to hurt.
And I don’t want my fucked-up brain to EVER make me feel so self-conscious again.