Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light. ~ Brene Brown
Being able to orgasm during sex has been an ongoing battle for me for a while now. Performance anxiety sucks and can be difficult to face. I know some might wonder in a long-term relationship, performance anxiety is even a thing. But it can be and it is. Life happens. Medical issues, anxiety, depression, life in general, can contribute to wanting to get our mojo back to its former glory.
Recently, me and my boyfriend have been really stressed. Our relationship has taken a toll with stress with work, finance, worried about the future (like many, COVID19 has screwed us over in more ways than one). Recently he was taken to hospital with an infected abscess in the back of his leg that needed an operation. As you can imagine, healing is taking a while. Thankfully he wasn’t in hospital long, the surgery was successful and we had to count our blessings as it could have been a lot worse.
So as you can imagine, sex hasn’t been high on our list for quite a while now, despite wanting to. Since my boyfriend’s heatwave-induced chafing injury down below last year after the aircon broke at work (and management took forever and a day to fix. He wasn’t the only man with heatwave-induced pain down below) that took months to heal, then coupled with the surgery he’s had(which was also near to his downstairs) it’s paved the way for his own anxieties to really creep in and his confidence in that department is a shadow of its former self.
No matter how much you love each other, every relationship takes work and communication, dealing with roadblocks whenever they present themselves. And sometimes, they can be really difficult to navigate.
Having both parties dealing with some kind of performance related anxiety, especially that we’re both ‘givers’, can make things difficult. We want to please the other person, but our anxieties or physical ailments make us feel we can’t. I’d be lying if I said it’s not deeply affected us, because it has. We’ve talked about how we feel about it. Talking and tears. Tears and talking.
As I put it “I feel like I can’t be your own personal porn star”, to which he replied: “I don’t want a porn star. In fact, I’d hate that.” His anxiety is also rooted in being anxious he wouldn’t be able to please me. I’m more curious about kink than he is (being older than me he’s settled more into himself) and the thought of not being able to give that to me upset him a lot. Honestly, that broke my heart.
Like he reassured me he didn’t want a porn star, I reassured him I didn’t want a latex-clad, flogger wielding Master unless that’s what he wanted too. For all my curiosity about trying new kinky stuff in the bedroom, at the end of the day, I just want him. I’m not going to throw away my relationship with a wonderful, caring man for the sake a few more regular cuffs and spankings. Hell no.
With that, we cuddled, I cried some more (I hate any kind of relationship conflict and it makes me emotional) and we kissed. Kissed lead to more kissing and cuddling, then one thing led to another and next thing I know our pants were off, he got a condom and I was seeing to the lube between my legs. We made love, needing each other desperately, kissing like crazy and hanging on to him, lost in the feeling while he pounded into me. I missed him so much, being like this with him, not thinking about self-doubt or if I’ll come. I just wanted him. I wanted us, in our most vulnerable form.
I always love the sounds he makes when he comes. He buries his face into my neck, moaning, grunting, thrusting into me and I feel myself getting close. I don’t get my hopes up for an orgasm, but I want to go over the edge. I squeeze tighter around him, burying my face into his shoulder, muffling my whimpers as I just concentrate on the pleasure…
And not long after my boyfriend comes, so do I.
A pleasant spasm between my legs, gently rushing down to my toes and a pleasant lightness in my chest. I did it. I came during penetrative sex for the first time in a long time.
I looked up at my boyfriend: “I came!” I said, “Oh my God, I actually came!” He looked down at me.
“That’s great!” he said.
And out of relief, joy and sheer disbelief, my palms when over my eyes, and I cried.