Stressed sex, frantic fucking, and BDSM mindfulness

A woman lies back in a bubble-filled bath with her eyes closed and her hands washing her hair. Photo.
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An inability to relax has characterised much of my fucking over the last few months – maybe longer. Sex, in my opinion, is incredibly important and something I take very serious… but it should also be fun and playful. I hate feeling stressed while fucking, but recently it feels like that’s all I’ve been feeling.

Content warning: brief discussion of mental illness. This post also includes affiliate links. 

Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised that I’ve been fucking with one eye on the clock, unable to let go of my anxieties and just be in the moment. Between being queer and having vaginismus, PIV sex has never been at the centre of my fucking menu – but lately it has felt like I have been having sex where the focus has been orgasms. And not in a fun ‘getting off is brilliant so we should do lots of it’ way, but a ‘orgasms mean the sex is over, right?’ way.

This is hard to confess. It was hard to admit this it to myself, even as I was filled with twinges of discomfort as I wondered why I was so driven to make whoever I was fucking come, so the weight of pressure would lift. It’s even harder to say it here, in a piece where my partner and play partners will read. I want to reassure them that I have loved the sex, or I did speak up if I wasn’t loving it. Fucking is fucking brilliant… it’s just that in a whirlpool of other shit that I can’t shut off, it’s also somehow become fucking stressful.

Sex is usually my safe space – in the same way that sex writing is my healthiest ever coping mechanism. I didn’t think it had stopped being that, and maybe it hasn’t. But reflecting on it, this weird tension has been there for a while, and I’m not sure where it started.

Why it started is much easier. Stress is seeping from my everyday life into my kinky adventures: I’m just emerging from a period where I wasn’t comfortable taking my knickers off during sex. I’ve been uncomfortable and on edge in a way that I wasn’t sure my partners had picked up on, though they clearly had.

It probably doesn’t help that wanking became homework for me recently, as my vagina therapy required me to masturbate and play around with my vaginal dilators. My own orgasms have become more elusive, especially during partnered sex, and especially-especially if a play partner wants to feel actively involved in my orgasm instead of just watching me scroll through tumblr porn on my phone with a Doxy pressed against my clit.

And then there are time constraints on the sex I have that make it hard to relax. Sneaking in an alleyway blow job after brunch before I catch my train? That’s not exactly going to be a stress-free experience. Bathroom blow jobs and enthusiastic make-outs with a cute human before work? Super fun, but not conducive to not watching the clock.

It’s scary, being in my head when fucking is stressful. When I want to linger in the warm, cuddly sex haze with my partner, but an itchy anxiety brain keeps pulling my away from it. It’s scary – in fact, it’s terrifying – to realise that there’s a part of me that hasn’t just fallen out of love with fucking, but actively wants my partner to come so it can be over.

But what button do you press in your head to stop you – even a tiny bit of you – getting stressed out by fucking? I’m trying to practice mindful fucking – where I let go of the shit in my head and be in the moment. Face-sitting has – happily – featured in a lot of my fucking recently. There’s an element of submission and dominance in oral that lets me relax. I am submitting to the sensation of a partner’s mouth on my cunt, but I am also dominantly grinding my cunt into their face.

I’m not putting my pleasure at the expense of them breathing (please be cautious and aware of the risks involved if you want to explore breath play) but that idea is there and powerful as I ride their face. Their worship – or control – of my body is beautiful. And I think my partners enjoy me letting go a little more as we’re fucking. (A partner recently told me: “I loved the feeling when you relaxed into it and your ass opened up for my tongue.” I think about that a lot.)

Relaxing is hard. Trusting my partner will tell me if they need to get off, and realising that their orgasm doesn’t have to be all my responsibility helps. Impact play – or anal play, apparently – which lets me give over to the sensations helps. It is BDSM and kink that I come back to when I want to practice mindfulness in my fucking: it’s not therapy, but it can be therapeutic. And it helps the fucking feel less stressful.

 

You know what the an excellent antidote to stressed fucking is? Jerking off! This post is brought to you by the Ruby Glow, a hands-free, non-penetrative vibrator that I love for luxurious wanking. It’s ‘sit on’ design is perfect for riding while you read erotica. You can get your hands on it at  The Pleasure Garden for just £39.99.

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