Happy Spooky Season Friends! My favorite time of year, mostly because I can be obsessed with horror and gore and people will find it normal for a month. If I examine things further I’m sure I’ll find a correlation between horror, gore and my own sadomasochistic fantasies but I’m not here to psychoanalyze, that’s what my therapist is paid to do. No, I wanted to come on here and talk about more mildly entertaining things like… sex horror stories and I’m not talking about the cringey couple that always gets killed after f*cking in the woods in the most cliche horror movies. I’m talking about your cringey moments in the sack, a faux pas that you may never live down.
It’s a big ask, but… I can hear the wheels turning in your brain, you want to tell somebody about this and who better than your Fairy/Kinky Godparent? For the sake of reciprocity in this somewhat vulnerable moment, I’ll tell you one of my most EMBARRASSING sexperiences ever, like the kind to force you into celibacy! This serves as a warning that this story stars: a vibrator, sexting gone wrong, an untimely natural occurrence and my young, well meaning self. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
Let me set the scene: I’m in my bedroom on one of the last warms days of 2017 before Fall creeps in and I’m horny. My Dom, (you should remember him from A Few Too Many) is at work, as he usually is when we play this game. What game you ask? The game where I send him nudes and naughty messages because I forgot he’s at work and he indulges me in an orgasm pending he gets to see it. On this particular day I must have been extra committed to riling him up (being bad feels sooo good, usually) because I wasn’t play coy. There would be no over the panty rubbing and soft sighs, I came to perform that day, so when he told me to record my edging and eventual orgasm, I committed to the whole package. I stripped bare, found good lighting and pulled out every bit of dirty talk I could muster. I was laying it on thick.
Now if you’re anything like me, after you got your first quality vibrator, you never had a manual orgasm if you could help it. The powerful purr against the clitoris is nothing short of amazing and added bonus, vibrators don’t cramp like fingers. A full charge and you’re off to the races which is what I did. For those of us into edging, the adrenaline of almost falling over can be even more arousing than the actual surrender so I had no problem teasing myself for minutes upon minutes before sliding things home for his entertainment as much as mine. As far as orgasms go, it was great, granted I tend not to have poor orgasms but I digress. I remember my heart pounding in my chest, a thin sheen of sweat breaking out across my skin and my eyes closed in bliss but I wasn’t done. You see, I’m a Leo and the performer in me just knew what to do to drive him wild. He was the most oral man I met, if it were up to him I’d have had permanent resident status on his face so anytime there was an opportunity to taste myself, he wanted me to take it. As sensual as possible, I sucked the vibrator clean, moaning and gyrating and having a grand ole time. I tossed it to the side feeling like it was a job well done- until I looked over the video.
You should know where this is going, if you don’t, you haven’t been paying much attention. Other than me learning my angles, the video gave me a perfect view of my spontaneously menstruating cooch. Yes, you read that right, not only did I just masturbate with nature’s red lube, I just Lovelace deepthroated the shit out of the vibrator. I’ll give you a cringe break.
And we’re back.
When I realized this, I froze cause what does one do? I already swallowed so that’s a lost cost. I contemplated flinging myself out of a second story window but what would that have done other than maim me? Nope, I had to be an adult about it and adults own up to their shit, even when it’s embarrassing and messy so I sent the video. My attempt at saving face (which I found covered in blood in the bathroom btw) was to point out my eyes were closed the ENTIRE time and I would NEVER do such a thing on purpose. I spent hours biting my nails on the edge of panic until I got a text notification, the message was simple but it eased the anxiety that had been mounting for ages. It simply read:
What would I do without you? My lovely, perverted girl?
The easy acceptance shouldn’t have surprised me, Isaac was one of the most chill, inviting people you’d ever meet. He was so rarely phased and I twisted myself into a tizzy for no reason. We went on business as usual with the occasional joke about me timing my periods better. The Earth was still round, birds still chirped, Chipotle still tasted great, my world remained the same and me relaying this very graphic story is to let you know that your horror story, that sex thing that’s embarrassing or that people find gross and you love is A-OK, pending all partners are consenting adults. I recall this story with more amusement than dread these days because there have been mishaps since, I won’t tell all my secrets but let’s just say I’m well versed in body fluids going awry and I take it all in stride. Above everything else, I want people to have fun sex, to explore the edges of taboo with enthusiasm and adequate education, to release shame from one of our most ancient means of connecting.
Don’t take me publishing this story to mean I’ve overcome all of my hang ups around sex and shame. There’s years of whorephobia and misogyny to unpack regarding my sexuality but I intend to stay present throughout my education. I don’t have all the answers, never have but if my stories can help you or even just give you a laugh then, I’m doing something right. Besides, who hasn’t gotten red wings at this point? If you’re not having period sex, what are you doing?
If you’ve lasted this long then you’re a ride or die and I appreciate you. To show that appreciation, I have a little gift for you! Don’t get too excited now, I just figured you wanted in on the fun of regaling people with tales of sex horror stories so I made a lil worksheet for y’all. You can print it out or just type over it on the device of your choosing. If you’re brave, you can send me your stories (firstname.lastname@example.org) and I promise I won’t tell a soul, though I may ask some follow up questions. 😉
Enjoy the rest of spooky season and remember, the freaks come out at night.