Posted By Afro-Awesome Guest contributor
On Nov 19, 2018
By DykeRoad
In the beginning I thought there was only one way to fuck: The straightforward way where you either asked the person you wanted to fuck if they wanted to, or you got asked. Later on, I found myself in situations that made me think that fucking can be as contentious as it is intimate. A battle of egos that can be made to look like there must be a victor or at least someone who acquiesced.
My belief in fucking being “straightforward” may have come from my first experience of it. The process of getting my ‘cherry popped’ began via SMS text. I asked a trusted friend if he would do the honours. He obliged and we agreed on a Saturday when I would go over to his place to do the necessary. I went over as planned and we watched some Formula 1, and chatted. He showed me a recent HIV/STD test, and took out the KY Jelly.
When it was time, he started by going down on me. Afterwards he let me sit on top so I could control the penetration and the thrusts. It lasted until I decided I’d gotten the general gist of things, then I calmly said we needed to stop, got off, put my clothes on and walked home.
It was interesting for me to discover that ‘straightforward fucking’ is not every woman’s mantra. Of course, people are allowed to draw and redraw their own boundaries when it comes to sex. This can be done at any point during the iteration, as consent has to be ongoing. Furthermore, in sex, you may not always start out knowing exactly what you want or where things are going and that’s OK because it can be a fun adventurous journey. However, having entertained some not-so-fond experiences, I have to ask whether certain discussions are better held at points where it doesn’t look to me like we are about to fuck.
To the woman who didn’t want me to fuck her because I would have been her first and she would be “giving it up” to someone she wasn’t in a relationship with; it would have helped me tremendously if we’d had this talk while your clothes were still on. To my now ex-friend who does not have the decorum to look me in the eye when we meet in the same circle of friends, are you satisfied in knowing that your assertion that we couldn’t stay friends if we fucked is false because we didn’t fuck and yet we aren’t friends? Finally, to my friend who has graciously taken on fucking with being friends, I would like to say thank you for renewing my faith in No-Strings Attached sex.
Here goes….
We started kissing in your living room. The first few kisses were slight. I let you kiss me so I could discover how you liked to be kissed. They kept coming easy and shy, like you were testing the waters, and my mind was allowed to wander. I wondered what was coming next, if I was being too lucky, if I should fuck you on the couch. I also tried to remember if it was possible for people to see us through your glass windows and door.
I had to stop thinking and start acting when your kisses told me you wanted to do more. I wondered what you would think about the way I brought you to orgasm. I asked if you wanted to go to your bedroom. We sprawled out horizontally on the bed, you underneath me. It was easy to take off your dress and panties. My clothes came off at a remarkable speed too. I laid you on your front and kissed your back, licking and grazing it with my teeth all the way down until I could angle my head and lift you slightly to get underneath you and wrap your clit in my tongue. I heard you moan and I believed we were on the way to a night spent knocking boots. I turned you onto your back to get a better licking. I wanted to put my fingers to good use while I ate you out but you didn’t want me to fingerfuck you. I came up to kiss you and took your fingers to show you how I liked to be fucked. You said I felt hot. I told you that “hot” was the average temperature of vaginas. You fucked me with good vigour. So much vigour that I began to doubt it was your first time. I tried again to feel you but I wasn’t allowed to. Our first orgasms with each other never materialised and I walked away feeling empty. Did we not make it as friends because we didn’t fuck?
I would ask the woman that this concerns if I could. I wonder how she felt coming to spend the night knowing that I had other ideas for our sleep over. Did she feel tingles betwixt us when she came in to spoon me? It was warm enough to sleep nude but I got into bed clothed not to alarm her. How much of the night did she spend awake in anticipation? And did her heart skip a beat when I turned around to face her, pulled her close to me, went in for a kiss, not on the lips but on her neck? She responded by running her hands along my body and I took that as a good sign and started reaching for her panties. We tousled in ways I thought signified fucking was about to ensue but then she said some interesting things: that she was straight, that she didn’t fuck with women, and that we shouldn’t fuck because she wanted us to be friends.
But who says fucking prevents us from being friends?
The first time my latest BFF and I got together, we never actually “got together”. It was a bizarre case of who would fuck who. We had this crazy power struggle and I got so tired that I relented and said I wanted to sleep. My predicament was insane; she was naked and I already felt how wet she was. All I wanted to do was eat some pussy but she told me she was a giver and as such there were places I couldn’t go. I told her that I like to give as much as I receive and that these were the conditions under which we could fuck. We eventually did fuck another day under conditions that I was more accustomed to. Afterwards, she told me that the 69 I’d enjoyed so much was something she’d never done with her girlfriend. When she asked me to rate her performance, I wrote her an email of the things she could have done better. She took this on board pretty well because the next time she gave me head, she came pretty close to blowing my mind. She had come into the bedroom and told me all she wanted to do was make me cum. I decided I could be OK with that. She pulled me to the edge of the bed, knelt on the floor and put her face between my legs. I wasn’t allowed to do anything but feel great and try to not draw the attention of our friends in the next room.
Aside from fucking when we get the chance to, we chat every day and support each other in ways that regular friends do. I also love the fact that we support each other when it comes to other women we individually become emotionally attached to. Complicated much? I don’t think so. Its just an example of good old straightforward fucking.
I’m writing about some of my experiences of being in ‘near-fucking’ situations, and to top it off, one of not letting silly negotiations get in the way of the joys of sex.
For more on issues of fucking and pleasure check out this piece on how to eat pussy like a champ or this one called ‘ A Meal‘ by a baby dyke. There is also ‘Do You Want To Eat Me?’ and also Hey You, about a little tryst a conference. There is also this one about ho you relationship is not over just because you aren’t having sex and this one about types of lesbians it sucks to have sex with.
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