F is for Fantasy & Frustration

Fantasy

Do you have a specific, go-to, tried-and-true, always-gets-you-there fantasy? I have several from before-V, and since he came along he has somehow managed to corrupt me even further with some of his. I can’t say the ones he’s implanted in my brain don’t get me off – because obviously, they do – but they delve into some darker corners of sexual fantasy that make it uncomfortable for me to admit to enjoying. And it’s not exactly enjoyment (even as I am orgasming.) Maybe the being uncomfortable with it is part of what gets me off about it. He has said that the fact that I fight against enjoying these things so much is part of his pleasure in forcing me to use them as wank material. And frankly, I don’t know if I get off because of the material, or because he forces me to use it.

So I am curious, during this month when he isn’t telling me what to think about while I fuck myself: what will  I think about? Will I go back to my tried-and-true? Or will my mind go willingly to those other places, those places he has led me to (blindfolded and bound)? What will it take to get me off, both mentally and physically?

This month I’ll be keeping track of what gets me off (and doesn’t quite manage it) in the notes V has asked me to write up regarding each orgasm I have for #30DayOrgasmFun. I’m curious to see, with no prompting from him, where my fantasies will go. I already have one data point: the first night of #30DayOrgasmFun, I came spectacularly with what (for my perverted little mind) is a pretty mundane fantasy, and one I remember having way back when I first started exploring kink.

V’s instruction was to use a household item as a pervertable. I chose a candlestick. There is something iconic (and cliche?) about fucking oneself with a candlestick. I think I remember there being a horror movie – or maybe it was one of those late 70’s “college boys just havin’ fun” movies that were supposed to be funny – with that in it. In any case, I have never done it before (I don’t think so anyway…I am tempted to do a search on Kink & Poly for it…. Okay, okay. No, I won’t. If I don’t remember it – and there’s no pictures! – it didn’t happen.) Anyway. I was fairly certain it was not something that would get me off. It’s long and skinny; not characteristics I usually look for in a dildo. But then I started using it. And…okay, I might have to revise my list of things I like in my pussy.

When I think about it, though, one of my favorite things in my pussy is fingers, and oftentimes I need something – anything – thrusting in there to get me over the edge, so why not the shape of a candlestick? It slid in and out deliciously (I had covered it with a lubricated condom, and the slide was perfect. Not too slick, not too grabby.) And its minimal girth still worked on the oh-so-sensitive inner walls of my vagina, stirring up exactly the right feelings.

In moments my mind was drifting…I didn’t try to think about anything specifically…

But then I was. I imagined myself naked on the edge of a bed or chair, knees bent and legs spread, being made to fuck myself in front of a group of men, who were all clothed. I could see their cocks straining against their slacks, and occasionally one would rub himself through the cloth. But what really got me off was what the lead guy (V?) was saying. I’d forgotten that sometimes it isn’t the scene that gets to me, it’s those dirty, nasty words. “Go on, fuck yourself.” “Keep it up.” “Don’t stop.” “Show us what a dirty girl you are.” “Fuck yourself for me.” “Fuck your hole.” “Make yourself come, you little slut.” “Come for me.” And then, at the last moment, my fantasy man had his cock out (like he couldn’t resist anymore) and he was pumping his hand up and down on his cock, and he ejaculated just as I came.

Heh…I am remembering another detail…the candlestick was red in real life, and in my fantasy too. Everything else was washed out and hazy, but that candlestick was deep red as I shoved it in and out.

~whew!~

So um, yeah, I am looking forward to exploring my fantasies – new and old – as this month of orgasms proceeds.

Frustration

So that was “fantasy” – what’s this about frustration?

Exactly the very next time I needed to have an orgasm – Day 2 of #30DayOrgasmFun – I failed. Miserably.

I tried. Diligently. Used Baldy. Used my fingers. Used toys. Really fucked myself. But no matter how I tried, my mind cockblocked me.

I know this about myself: when I am with a partner and there are…unresolved feelings – angst, anger, resentment, just run-of-the-mill pissyness – sometimestimes, BDSM play can successfully snap me out of that bad headspace. Not always, but often enough that I have had to admit that it works occasionally. (I am thinking of a certain night recently, when all I wanted was to be mad, and he insisted on taking me down and caning me, even while I spewed my angry words, and he replied, with the cane coming down, relentlessly on the back of my thighs. I wouldn’t for a moment have considered not being there, not subjecting myself to it…it simply didn’t occur to me that I could say “no”. That is not my choice, and, somehow in all of this, I have internalized that. And…somehow…it worked. It calmed my angry head, it soothed the angry beast inside me (and perhaps him.) Sometimes, even sex works that way. But when I am alone? Nope, nothing works to shift me from living in my pissy, angry head and into an erotic, sensual headspace.

So. Frustration. I wanted to do the thing. To enjoy my body. To transport myself from my mind into just my body. But it wasn’t to be. The mind had put up a stop sign, and my body obeyed it.

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