Embracing My Need for Sex
I’m no longer ashamed of my libido
I have always been fascinated by sex. It began when I was a little girl. My younger brother and I found a stash of adult magazines in the hallway closet. They were packed in several boxes and stored in the back of the closet. One day, as we were playing around the house, we went into the closet. We found the boxes and began going through them.
I was both amazed and shocked by the pictures we saw. The magazines were old copies of Playboy and Penthouse. On the covers of both magazines were scantily clad women with their private areas discretely covered. Although, you could still figure out what was being hidden. My brother and I giggled and laughed as we went through the magazines.
There were many articles in the magazines. Long articles that took up several pages. The articles focused on sex and sexual issues. Being kids, we didn’t understand all the ins and outs of sex. But the magazines were the beginning of our education.
There were other magazines in the boxes that were much more explicit. Scenes of naked men and women in various, compromising positions. I was fascinated by pictures of young couples getting busy on elevators, in offices, and in spaces where sex normally didn’t take place. The taboo feeling of some of the scenes increased my interest all the more.
As I grew older, I began reading romance novels to gain a different perspective about sex. Although I was a tween, I had an advanced reading ability and was bored by books geared towards my age. But I didn’t have the maturity to read romance novels. I could barely get through a novel because I would start blushing at the sex scenes. It would take me several days to finish a book. The sex scenes were so explicit I felt as if I were right there.
The novels that held my interest were the ones where the women embraced their sexuality. They weren’t afraid to take control of their sex lives. They wanted sex and made it clear to the men. In the bedroom, they were the boss and the men were at their mercy. I wanted to be just like those women.
As a young adult, my first sexual experience wasn’t torn from the pages of a romance novel or porn magazine. I lost my virginity on a dirty floor of an abandoned house. My boyfriend at the time was pumping my novice vagina from the back. The pain was negligible and our act only lasted a few minutes.
The next time we got together, it was at my house in my bedroom. My mother was still at work and my brother was at a friend’s house. My boyfriend wanted to finish the job of taking my virginity in the traditional way. This time, the act hurt like hell and there was blood everywhere. My vagina ached for days and I didn’t like the feeling at all.
But my sexual journey had become and eventually, the pain turned to pleasure. My boyfriend wasn’t a sexual master, but he had a large penis that was good at hitting every pleasure point in my vagina. Unfortunately, he was also an abusive asshole and after several traumatizing incidents, our relationship ended.
Since that time, I have been on a journey to be more forthcoming about my sexual needs. I’ve had lovers that were good boyfriends but not good in bad. And vice versa. I’ve always been involved with men who started off as great boyfriends and lovers to slowly lose their edge and libido. Meanwhile, my libido was raging like a storm.
I like foreplay. I want to be eaten. I need a man who will hold my hand and kiss my forehead. I like laughter to be a part of foreplay. I’m into pillow and tickle fights. I like snuggling before and after sex. Those are my turn-ons.
It took me many years to get to this point. I’ve had men tell me I was being too bossy or demanding when I wanted them to perform specific acts. Eventually, I became quiet and accepted whatever sex was given to me. Some men didn’t care if I came or not as long as they did. I was often left angry and frustrated because my needs weren’t being met.
Eventually, I embraced the sexual diva within me. I didn’t bother with men who couldn’t satisfy me or weren’t into meeting my needs. I like rough sex with men who know how to be intimate and use their equipment. No junky johnsons for me! If a man wasn’t hitting it, I was quitting him.
It feels great embracing my sexual self. I know what I like and what I expect a man to provide. I’m not about a guy’s money. I want to know his mind, his heart, and his dick. If he can throw down in the bedroom then I know my vagina will be taken care of. And I also know that to get to the bedroom, the man has to show me he deserves entry into my temple.
Fuck is such a vulgar word. But I like saying it. My young self wouldn't dare utter fuck. But now, fuck it, the word is a part of my daily language. When it comes to sex, I wanted to be fucked. I want my toes to curl. I want my pussy to be wet. I want my body to shiver with anticipation. I want a large, thick dick about to tear my pussy up. Afterwards, I want to bask in the afterglow.
I love sex. Every woman should be able to. We, women, need men (or other women) to make us feel good in bed. Sex is important. I know if I’m not sexually happy, I’m not happy in the relationship. Men must understand that they need to know how to please a woman. They need to be able to explore a woman’s body and find all of her pleasure points. If not, you’ll get no love from us!
