Touch my back: oh yes, just like that

I’m noisy in bed. Ok, not just in bed: partners have teased me in the past for making similar sounds while eating sushi to getting eaten out. While nothing sounds like the giggle I make when someone touches my clit in just the right way, they’re not wrong. I am very vocal in my pleasure. Recently I’ve found something new that makes me make sex sounds – though to me it is sex. I want them to touch my back.

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It started when I was masturbating, reading super hot erotica and grinding my clit into my Doxy, and I felt tension building in the small of my back. You know, the hand-size hot-spot at the base of your spine where a dominant partner should put their hand to hold you in place after bending you over for a spanking? I’ve thought about it before, because I’ve definitely written about it before: when I mention characters getting pinned down, I’m imagining someone touching me there.

Partners of mine have touched that exact spot before, of course, but I’ve never been so aware of it as I was in that minute. The tension felt a little like when my cunt pulses with need – tight and warm and desperate to be touched. Almost without thinking I twisted, reaching rough to dig my nails into it, and came hard and fast. After I flopped into a pile of pillows – panting – I tried to work out what had just happened.

I’m a sex nerd, so obviously I had to experiment a bit. Firstly, I should explain that when I masturbate with the aim of getting off – rather than teasing myself or to just touching my cunt because it feels good – I do so when lying on my stomach. The next time I jerked off, I pressed my vibrator against my cunt and propped myself up on one elbow, leaving my other hand to wander to the hot spot at the base of my spine.

Pressure felt good, though was hard to do myself to the level I wanted it. Scratching it also felt good – it conveyed some of the desperation that was characterising the scenes in my head that I was getting off to. Ever impatient, though, simply digging my nails into the small of my back was the best way to effectively enhance my orgasm. It felt so good, and it continued to feel good the next time I tried it. And the next time.

The result of my exploration was conclusive: my back has become an erogenous zone.

By the time I told my partner that I wanted them to touch my back, I was less focussed the hand-span at the base of my spine. I wanted them to touch me there, of course, but I wanted it all over my back. I wanted nails dragging down my back, hard enough to leave faint red marks. I wanted a soft flogger coming down on it again, sometimes harsh, sometimes comforting. I craved touch there like I craved my fingers on my clit, it made me hot in a way that touching my tits didn’t.

My back has become an erogenous zone, and it’s one I’m currently desperate for my partners to touch.

It’s different to the tension I carry in my back when I’m stressed – it’s not a physical manifestation of my anxiety as painful tightness. It feels deeper in my body in a way I can’t quite explain, and it’s definitely a sexual thing. However, a back massage – especially a particularly firm one from my fuck buddy – scratches both itches. It might be given with the intent of helping me relax, but will end with me squirming under him as he sighs, teasingly, at how I’ve managed to “corrupt” something non-sexual.

I don’t think I could come from it without clit stimulation, but it’s become my go to ‘warm up’ activity for when I can’t jump straight into sex. It feels good. It tickles when they touch me lightly and hurts when they dig their fingers in. I’ll giggle and beg for more and try to twist myself  away from the touch. Not because I don’t want them to touch me like that, but because it feels so good that it’s almost overwhelming.

I might no longer describe myself as a submissive-leaning switch, but being overpowered by my partner like that is still incredible hot to me. Especially when I’m being overwhelmed and pushed into my bed – or my sofa, or their body – by my partners’ clever hands. In the same way that I am unable to control my reactions when someone touches my clit with a determined precision, I’m helpless against someone putting their hands on my back right now: I’m so needy for it that a single touch will render me helpless.

Twice now I’ve turned around and flashed my cutest eyes at my fuck buddy. Twice now I’ve answered his ‘what do you want?’ question with a cute smile before I asked him to touch my back. My partners have quickly learned that the fastest way to get me turned on right now is to put their hands on my back – and for once it’s something I’m happy to enjoy playing with rather than needing to understand.

And if you can hear someone having what sounds like very loud enthusiastic sex in my flat, it’s probably not sex. It’s probably someone touching my back – oh yes, just like that.

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Quinn Rhodes

Quinn Rhodes (he/him) is a queer, trans, disabled sex writer with vaginismus. He’s a slut and a sex nerd who writes about his adventures in trying to fuck without fucking up. Quinn can usually be found wearing stomp-on-the-patriarchy boots while falling in love every time he fucks.