I need to be able to let go – and it’s damned hard for me to do. Over the years I’ve had to hold on and keep it together for so long, that even awesome orgasms only bleed off a bit of it. Mostly I’m still holding on – those subconscious muscles are tensed, and often I can’t figure out how to relax them no matter what I do. Lucky for me, I have amazing partners who are there to help me.
Still, over the years I have figured out some ways that work. And funnily enough, it’s mostly kink-related.
Being flogged is fantastic, as it kicks in the endorphins for me: I’ve had to warn tops before they start that I’ll probably begin laughing, and that it’s not at them! It’s me flying on feeling good as they bring those falls down on my arse and thighs and shoulders. Many a private play party has had a soundtrack of Dee-laughter to accompany it, and it’s fairly entertaining (or so I’m told…).
Being bitten is also something I find very helpful – although depending on the partner I may well bite back! Hylas is particularly good at biting me to an endorphin high, and knows just the right places to bite so they bruise well and are excellent for poking for the next week. There’ve been pictures of me after bites have sent me into a laughing jag – not something that happens often, but it’s a great time!
(I also often bite myself to bleed off a bit of tension. I don’t think of it as self-harm, as I’m not harming. It’s more like self-maintenance. My self biting can be gentle or hard, for a long time or hardly at all. The fleshy part at the base of my thumb; the edge of my hand; and my wrist tend to be my go-to bite places.)
However, sometimes it’s not what a partner’s doing to me that’s cathartic, but the situation I’m in with them. The headspace. Those times I’m more likely to cry than to laugh – but it’s just as helpful.
Recently Apollo and I were able to have PiV sex again, for the first time since I damaged my back. It was slow and gentle and intimate. I was very aware of touch and movement; of how we fit together; our interlocking pieces. There was closeness as we cuddled and moved together, closeness as we kissed. Nearly a decade of being together meant he knew my body and what I enjoyed, and how to move so as not to exacerbate anything. I was supremely grateful for it, as I came to a gentle orgasm beneath him.
And afterwards, as we cuddled together, I cried. Not something I was expecting to happen! But, as I figured out later, I’d had weeks of barely being able to move. Of having to be careful if I chose to help when giving a handjob – moving too much of my arm jostled my spine. Of having to rearrange myself if I wanted that cock in my mouth. Of not daring to masturbate, or have an orgasm. And of, ultimately, not being sure if I could be sexual any more in the way I wanted. Having penetrative sex – no matter how careful we had to be – was proof that I was indeed on the mend. Thank heavens!
But this afternoon was the big Letting Go™. Tethys and I were having a hot and sexy Skype date, and I was well into fuck-space: rampantly needy of orgasm, of fucking, of being used, of … something more. I had orgasmed many times by this point, and we were both panting with lust. My hand was curled against my cunt, with my nails digging into the flesh of my labia, my clit, and my mound. It was like a paw with sharp claws digging in, but I didn’t want to let go. I kept pressing, digging, holding on.
I managed to tell m’Lady that I needed to Let Go, but that I wasn’t sure what Letting Go was – if it was an orgasm, or something else. My voice got very shaky as I tried to explain it. Zie understood – which was more than I did – and gave me permission to Let Go, to do whatever I needed to, in whatever time it took. I asked hir if zie could keep on jacking hir cock, and growling for me – I knew I needed those things to tip myself over. As zie did so (and it was hot to see and to listen to), my paw tightened even harder on my cunt. My other paw dug into my leg.
And this is what happened. I growled. I orgasmed and leaked juices through my curls and claws. I started crying before I finished orgasming, bawling for about 10 seconds. And then I started to laugh – before the tears had stopped – and the laughter just kept on. It was hilarious! I gradually uncurled my hands while I was laughing and took off my glasses and hiccuped my giggles and wiped my face while m’Lady laughed with me and just kept on chuckling for the next fifteen minutes. And then managed to get up on my unsteady legs and get a glass of water.
I still don’t know what the heck that Letting Go was – but I really, really did it! And that was a new one on me. All the rest of the stress over my back, over my planned life changes, over being ill and missing m’Lady – it’s all sorted out, it’s all unwound, it’s all dekinked.
That mental muscle is untensed. So are all the physical ones. I’ve laughed, I’ve cried, I’ve come my brains out.
And now it’s time for a cup of tea.