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  • Writer's pictureSarah Foley

TSS - 014 ~ MY sexy story part 5: sarah be sexing

Updated: Feb 22, 2022

content warning: sexual assault, rape, childhood trauma



Good evening! Hi! Hello there lockdown 6! This post is skipping forward a heap because I am too bloody excited to wait any longer to tell you that I am now living a combination of sexy sexing times and loved up cuddles. And surprise surprise, it’s not all fun and sexing.


The events of this post actually happened a couple of months ago now but I’ve been swallowed by uni and my four months of full time social work placement. So I’m coming to you now with a little condensed version of how I started sexing again because there have been THINGS happening since then that I’d rather chat to you about.


So here we go!


To understand what is to come, I need to first introduce you to the psychological work happening around this same time. I was doing some very intense and relevant work with my psychologist based on internal family systems theory. Internal family systems as a psychological theory, says that we as individuals are led by a series of opposing, dynamic, densely personified voices and personalities. Some people are cohesively and collaboratively run by their different parts. Their insecure voice may rise when they need attention, are met with attention and love, and can then leave their secure voice to lead you again. I am largely led by adult Sarah. She is sexually empowered, feminist, self-loving and largely secure. However, my therapist began to extrapolate from our conversations, my fears, my concerns, my questions, that I am largely led, in sexual scenarios, by child Sarah. Child Sarah, stuck in her eight year old body, is terrified of sex. She thinks it is shameful, dirty, scandalous, slutty, disgusting. She does NOT want to do it. She will stop at nothing to stop Sarah having sex. Child Sarah was forced to have sex when she didn’t want to. She hated it, and she couldn’t protect herself. Actually, no one did. So she has vowed to always protect herself. No one is ever going to do that to her again. Which is so very kind of her, and very, very protective. But eight year old Sarah does not know that Sarah is actually an adult now, and can make safe decisions about sex consensually, with the option to say no. She is terrified and subsequently, loud.


Once in therapy I began to see that child Sarah was needing to be heard, I finally let her speak to me. She was terrified. She had learnt that adult Sarah forces her to have sex when she explicitly says she does not want to. So she’s anxious, and willing to resist to all ends to make sure sex does not happen, and certainly is not enjoyed, within this body.


So, the journey back to penetration involved some serious collaboration with child Sarah and some very gentle reassuring. In therapy, I engaged in a serious of conversations listening to the most childlike voices in me, and heard what they thought about sex. I was simultaneously maintaining (hurrah) my new meditation practice to re-engage mindfully with my breathing and body. Re-engaging with my body is incredibly challenging and I’m still not fully there, but I’m so heckin happy that there’s at least been movement.



And so.


Sarah began sexing again! June 25, 2021. My two year anniversary with James, the most loved up weekend away sandwiched between Melbourne lockdowns. Miraculously we managed to get our time away and it was stupid. Stupidly heckin romantic. It felt like I was living a life I was already nostalgic for: the greatest moments of my love. So full. Of connection, tears (mine of course), wood fire, loft beds, op shops, bakeries, rain, pizza, chess, white linen. I’d written a diary of collections of thoughts about him, our love, our greatest memories, etc. Corny shit that I love doing. We sat in our cabin in Warburton, next to a little fire, with rain pouring down outside of us, forest all around us. It was transcendental. I had decided by June 25, I was ready to seduce James. I had moved through being ready to give oral sex, and more broadly, pleasure. I had begun to want to push for more, to allow my body to see what it felt like to have more. I wasn’t scared.


On June 25, after lots of making out and cuddling, James gave me oral sex for the first time in possibly six months. With the rain around me, the warmth of the fire, my back pressing into the crisp white linen, I cried. Gently at first, small tears coinciding with James’ tongue, until they streamed down my face. James looked up at me, seeing the small tears multiply, and stopped what he was doing immediately. He asked if I was okay, if he had done something, if I needed anything. But truthfully, I was entirely overwhelmed by the safety and peace of the moment I had experienced. Now this sounds silly, so bear with me, but as James gave me oral sex, I felt a tiny voice inside me say, “See. We just needed you to listen to us. We’re okay. Thank you.” And I was so emotional already at the love surrounding me that to know that I was in this sexual moment and child Sarah felt safe as well as adult Sarah, felt like a win I didn’t know I’d ever have, or need. James curled his body around me and I SOBBED. Heaving sobs into his chest. Happiness, relief, safety. I couldn’t believe that I could receive oral sex and feel every sensation as it happened: my body being met by my brain. The oral sex in its gentleness (to repeat the same word a million times because it was absolutely KEY), brought me into my body and my surroundings and I felt so surreally held. By myself.


After June 25, I wasn’t sure how to transition into making oral sex part of my life again. It was hard, and weird. I had had both the most magical moment sexual moment being in Warburton. But back in Melbourne, away from our cabin in the forest, I struggled to transition back into receiving sexual pleasure. I didn’t feel natural initiating sex, and I didn’t feel the same desire I had when we were away. I was already so busy and used my business to avoid working out how to transition James and I into lovers again.


At the same time as this sexual confusion, I was wanting to try penetration. I was so spurred on by the amazing oral sex, I wanted more. The problem was, the build up to it, was too much pressure for both of us. We both knew we wanted to try penetration but finding the time to recreate the romance of Warburton, seemingly key to my absolute relaxation, was nearly impossible. So it didn’t happen. We also somehow never have any condoms, both of us forgetting every time we were at the shops, and whilst we are very lax with using protection when I’m not ovulating, I just so happened to be ovulating at all of the moments sex was on the cards.


But alas, I already spoiled this post so you know I DO have sexy time involving penetration…


I’ve been life modelling for the last few years off and on, ending up with a few regular gigs that work well for me. One of those is with Brian. Brian has always made me feel incredibly comfortable and lets me chat to him for the whole session which is the best kind of life modelling session in my opinion. Brian had mentioned before that he liked drawing couples, and suggested that I ask James if he would ever be interested in being drawn with me. James isn’t someone who is naked in front of strangers, ever, so I was pretty shocked he wanted to get involved.


Our poses together started very demure, unsure of what to do with our bodies considering the intense thought involved in our sensuality at home. We held each other gently, while Brian chatted and encouraged everything we did. Brian made pretty clear that he had drawn couples making love before and gave us plenty of examples to look at before we started posing. There was literally not a single bone in my body that thought I might be having sex that day though.


But, something sensual happened. It had moments of being forced, and moments of being incredibly seductive, flowing effortlessly from me. Brian made some totally unassuming comments about James’ cock and encouraged me to hold him. And of course, Brian wanted to draw an erect penis, so I began moving my hand up and down to keep him hard. We looked at each other constantly, shifting between silent laughs and actual desire. Something about sitting naked, embracing, being drawn with James, was becoming really fucking sexy. When Brian was focused on painting, we snuck kisses. James pressed his hands into my lower back. Posing with James became a ridiculously hot environment. And so in the next pose, we ended up in a position simulating oral sex. But of course- to keep James hard- actual oral sex occurred. Brian was encouraging any sexualisation of the posing, and James is free with sex, in a different way to nudity somehow, so we transitioned quickly into being drawn and being sexual.


After I went down on James for 20 minutes like a seduction queen, I suggested he go down on me for the next pose. Unfortunately, you can’t see any of the saucy detail when trying to paint cunnilingus. So, I suggested we lay pressed against each other, in a yet to be determined interesting way. Same issue. Brian thought though that James was here going to fuck me, assuming the pressing of our bodies was for that purpose. He could see that I was flailing a little—actually purely because of the awkwardness of the angle, so Brian suggested we sit on a low bench stool-y thing together. Brian encouraged James to fuck me while I sat on top of him. Hmm. James looked at me with confusion and questioning—like, as if we were going to fuck for the first time in months in that context. But, my body didn’t object. James is so heightened to checking for silent ‘no’ messages from my words or body that he would have known immediately if I was saying no silently. But I wasn’t.


So it’s all good and well that I decided I was actually welcoming the idea of the sex we hadn’t had in months, but considering I had been keeping him hard for 40 minutes so far and my clitoris or vulva had not been touched, I was not sure how I was going to be penetrated painlessly. James, working with my nods and eyes, cautiously pushed into me in that weird way you do when you’re quite dry and you have to push in gentle, awkward increments until you get all the way in. I was simultaneously moving up and down to let him inside me. James was so concerned I was still maybe not okay though, and that if I was, it would be painful, so he stopped momentarily from the dry fucking we were attempting and spat my saviour, his saliva on his dick. He looked at me for confirmation before re-entering and I didn’t seem to have any objections in me. Writing it, it all sounds like I was very nonchalant, but in truth, the moments going from not being penetrated to being penetrated, were milliseconds that were clouded by the awareness that we were being watched and had not planned even remotely for this possibility, and yet somehow weren’t objecting to it.


The impromptuness of the situation accidentally took away all the pressure I’d been building in my brain to have the perfect first fuck. It just happened, and it was delightful. Longer than I would have liked, but slower than I would ever allow. Maybe what the doctor prescribed? The intimacy was truly divine, and somehow not interrupted by the presence of an artist drawing our bodies. Brian gently encouraged the motions of my slow fucking of James, and eventually moved us into a different position for the final 20 minutes so I was on top of James. I was dumbfounded that I had somehow got myself into that position and more dumbfounded that I liked it? And most important of all: it wasn’t painful. When the session was over, Brian said that in the past some men had ejaculated, and so James was welcome to go ahead if necessary. Lol. James is far too disciplined to ejaculate in front of someone else. And so we were paid, got dressed, chatted to Brian about The Beatles, and left.


I consider that our practice run now, a shock to the system, that was certainly not bad, and even a little bit good. I had expected from therapy that the first times I had penetrative sex again would not be anything earth shattering, as I rebuilt my sensations, but this first time was really delightfully painless, intimate, slow, and sensual. And we now have incredible drawings of the first time we fucked in months.


I so happened to be going out that night, and had to leave immediately from life drawing, so the first people I debriefed with were not James. I celebrated with some truly special friends and was so excited to go home and continue the fucking we had begun. And we did! And this time, I cried. Lots and lots. In the safety of our bedroom, where I’d been trying to conjure libido for so long, as we returned to sex in a way reminiscent of our early days together, I couldn’t really believe the position I was in. When the second sex was lovingly finished, again with zero pain, I let myself release the build-up of emotion I had stuffed into my already full and healing brain. I couldn’t believe it. I was fucking. It didn’t hurt, I felt truly that I wanted to, and it was with the person I love more than anything else in this entire world.


Like how the heck did that happen? Months of work and suddenly I was just fucking again. But I suppose that’s the way it works, at a certain point, all the thinking I was doing was desperate to manifest itself in my physical body.


Can you believe it?! Are you shook?! WHAT DO YOU THINK?! Sorry I’ll calm down I’ve just been desperate to tell you about my victorious return to dick and there’s been so many updates since then so we will swiftly move forward in the next post to life WITH dick!!!


To end, most importantly, thank you so so so eternally much for being here with me on this sexing journey. I’m so glad I’ve been able to share some good news with you and I’m so excited to hear what you think of this instalment.


From,

your sexing queen

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