smut theory


“Did you like how I sucked your dick?” I asked my spouse.

“Yes,” he said.

“Did you like how I swallowed your cum?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

“Does you dick like me today?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.  “It loves you.”


It had been a while since I sucked his dick, maybe a week?  Normally it’s an everyday activity.  I stopped because something about dudes was bothering me, the demands.  The world seemed full of men who wanted something from me, and my body was fed up, angry, full of no.  I couldn’t do that generosity.

My spouse is not a dude.  But I associate dicks with dude-needs, and every time we were in bed and got to the point where I would normally have sucked his dick, I hesitated.  I didn’t have the energy to do that work: taking him in my mouth, giving him pleasure so attentively and responsively.

I couldn’t navigate the physiology and physics of my disabled body, to produce the least amount of pain to my neck, shoulders, arms, and back.  No, I couldn’t give all that.  If I couldn’t do it joyfully, I wouldn’t do it at all.


Then my period arrived.  I always shout with joy from the bathroom–I wonder if the people we live with recognize that monthly exclamation of happiness.  “Ah, Nest has her period again!” they think as they smoke their cigarette in the courtyard.  “All is right with the world.”

There are two days of anticipatory cervix pain.  When I finally start spotting, I’m so happy.  Not that I thought I was pregnant–just joyful to move though my cycle.  The awaited guest has arrived.  Aunt Flo is always welcome at our house.

It’s hard work, to menstruate.  You might think the gates open and the flood arrives, gravity doing the work.  Thank you, Jagaddhatri.

But there’s pain in my cunt and lower back.  The inflammation goes up in my whole body, so more pain everywhere.  My gums get sore, my pinched nerve hurts worse, and my leg muscles get more spazy.

It’s messy, with more bathroom cleaning.  Some life activities like taking a shower and getting dressed become more time consuming.  When my pain level is high, sleep is more difficult.  Moods can be a big deal.  So it affects my whole life.  My appetite can change, and I might miss a day of exercise.

I can be very horny, but not want the vulnerability of my spouse’s dick up in all that red.  Or I don’t want to do the cleanup afterward.  So it’s a good time to blow my darling.


I told him I wanted to suck his dick, but we were busy.  He needed to do a few things first.  When we went to bed, I asked, “Have you been thinking about me sucking your dick?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Is that what you want?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said.

I needed some cuddle first, to feel very safe.  Tenderly I held his erection in my hands, and he touched my nipples.  I was aroused and full of love, needing the reassurance of his trustworthy body.  We kissed, and he licked my nipples.

“Gentle,” I said.  He couldn’t hear me.  “Gentle,” I repeated.  He backed off a little, and the pleasure flowed through me.


Then I sucked his dick.  Yes, so good to have him in my mouth again, lively and sacred.  I’d like to do that every day.  I’d love to have a life arranged just so, with the right amount of free time, and for me to feel nourished enough emotionally to have that much to give.

To prioritize that pleasure again would be amazing, back to the beginning of our relationship: those first two years, when we had so much free time, much of it spent in bed.  I like doing it twice a day.  But this time we’d be more skilled, with ten years of experience: our advanced, interdependent kindness.

Sex is my favorite way to give and receive kindness.  I will love you with my entire body.  We can do that every day, and it’s free.

image credit: Jagadhatri by Saikat Karmakar, no changes

By Nest

Curious, disabled Earth Goddess, telling the truth.

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