About six months ago, I went off of hormonal birth control. I'd been having issues with recurring yeast infections, and although I'd been on it for a long time, there's some research linking estrogen levels and yeast, so we thought, hey! Let's try this other thing.
It has, for the most part, be awesome. I don't take a pill every day, I lost a few pounds, and my moods are better (I think...). I invested in an IUD which, for the most part, has been great. But the side effect I wasn't expecting? Sex drive.
Holy cow, I have one. Who knew?!
I've enjoyed sex and masturbation since I figured out how to have an orgasm (I was about fourteen, I think). But going on the pill at sixteen and not going off of it until recently, I didn't really want sex very often, like, out of the blue. Sometimes, sure, I'd go home, jack off, fall asleep. When I was making out with someone, or dancing with someone, I'd get turned on. But it didn't just... happen. There was no un-triggered desire.
That has all changed. And wow, does it... wow.
I'll be going about my day, pre-setting for a show, doing paperwork, whatever it is, and all of sudden find myself flushed, nipples perking up under my bra, swelling happening all over the place. I'll be standing in line a the supermarket buying milk, and will suddenly, inexplicably, need to have sex right now. The other day I walked home from work (it's a good walk - maybe forty five minutes), and the entire way I was throbbing, pulsing, thinking gotta get home to jack off gotta get home to jack off. I tried pretty much everything to forget about it; I listened to This American Life, I concentrated on what I had to do the next day. But it wouldn't go away.
Don't get me wrong - I love it. But it gets really... distracting, a lot of the time. And because I haven't ever had to deal with this kind of sex drive in my adult life, I'm very new to learning how to deal with that. Like hey, no, you can't go get yourself off in the bathroom right now. You have to stay on book in case the actors call for line. No, you cannot touch yourself walking down the street. You, instead, have to sit with this feeling of being extremely turned on, and... that's it.
And it's not that I don't like feeling turned on, I do. But I'm learning how to deal with my body demanding things of me that I can't give it all the time. It's not like popping out for a sandwich when you're hungry (but oh dear, if it were, I'd never get anything done).
I love wanting sex more, most of the time (and so does Sir, especially because it takes less time for me to get to the please-fuck-me-now place, which can both extradite things if we're in a hurry, or make the denial all that much more entertaining). But I also have so little experience with it, that I'm not very good at handling it when it does come up conveniently. Because here's the kicker:
I never really learned how to initiate sex.
I was always up for sex; but looking back on my past relationships, I was usually in a take-it-or-leave-it sort of mood (until the making out started, usually, at which point, I'd be all in). But I have no idea, with this new drive, how to go from sitting on the couch eating ramen to humping profusely. And I'm sort of stumbling along with it, but sometimes, it's hard. Sometimes I don't know a sexy way to say "No, I don't want to watch TV right now," or "No, I don't want to go out to breakfast," but instead "I'd like to fuck your brains out a few times before we do."
It came up for Sir and I as an issue, partly, because he was feeling (sometimes) that I didn't really want to have sex with him, but that I just wanted to have sex. I think that was, in part, a fascination with the new oh-my-god-all-the-sexy-feelings, and partly because, again, I'm not so good at initiating. But I thought about that a lot, and I think he's right. I think sometimes, totally consumed with my lusty lusty, I just really want and need to have sex. The leap that isn't obvious to him (but is to me, so to aggravate things, of course, I don't feel like I need to clarify it or make it obvious to him) is that he's the person I like having sex with best in the world (that's including myself), and that I really, really enjoy making him all lusty lusty too. But I think the way I was expressing it might have seemed a little... careless.
Part of what's been hard, to, is our rule about me asking permission every time I masturbate. It was difficult, especially when we were having a hard time around wanting to have sex vs. wanting to have sex with him, when I couldn't satisfy myself because I felt guilty asking him about it. So I asked for that rule to be put on hold for a bit. I'm hoping that we can go back to it soon, if for no other reason than it's really, really hot.
That being said, I've been masturbating more frequently than ever, but it's started to feel... utilitarian. Not all the time, but sometimes. Like, I have this (sometimes insatiable) sex drive, and masturbating is just staving off the tidal waves until I can really have the kind of sex I want to have. And thinking about that, thinking about what really, really gets me off, in the thighs quivering, can't move, barely breathing kind of way? The answer to that is, simply, sex with Sir.
Nothing else compares (not that we need to get into comparison). He is incredible in bed, we're incredibly compatible together, and he just... turns me on to notches that don't exist otherwise. He takes me places I can't go on my own, and, I hope, I take him places he can't go on his own either.
It makes me think about this sort of... reductive way I've been looking at sex and sex drive. As in, desire of one person + stimulation = desire of another person + stimulation == mutual masturbation == sex == masturbation separately. I'm not sure if that makes sense, but it's sort of like... like, there are things you can experience by yourself, or with each other, but they're all just more weights on the scale, so the speak. No matter what the combination or circumstances, the things happening are always the same, and therefore the sum is always the same.
As it turns out, that just isn't true. The whole scale gets thrown out the window when we get together, and I don't want to get too hippie woo-woo about it, but there's some sex magic that happens when he touches me, and when I (if I'm good) get to touch him back. It's not even more than the sum of it's parts; it's a whole new fucking recipe, and it's awesome.
So, do I want sex? Yup. Can I ask for it when I want it? Yup. Do I need to get smoother and better and more clear about how I ask for it? Yeah, but that comes with time and practice, and it's okay if I'm a little fumbly now. Do I also want sex with my partner, specifically, because it's one of my favorite things to do on the planet? Yes, a thousand times, weeping, pleading, begging, yes Sir.
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