smut theory

special honey

“What would you do if you had some special honey?” I asked my spouse.  We were driving in his car.  “Other than put it on your dick and suck it off, of course.  That’s just a given.”

Yes, that’s something we did a long time ago, back when my spouse was my anarchist boyfriend.

food presents

A guest is staying over at our community and brought many food presents, including black garlic, vegan cheesecake, and gluten-free seed bread.  I was happy to open the little jar of special honey, dish a small amount into a bowl, and carry it upstairs to our bedroom for a sexy purpose.

Then things didn’t go according to plan.  We were up later than usual, and we got into an argument.  Words flashed as anger flared.  I was upset, feeling unprioritized, when my spouse was putting away laundry and checking his phone as the special honey languished in its bowl by the bed.

We wrapped up our argument– we put some dates on the calendar and vowed not to push them back or get distracted and ignore them, which has happened too many times lately.  We’re doing too much.  Our next date was for 8 in the morning.


Early in the morning I made a list of things I wanted to do on our date.  Lately when we have sex, I am so stressed and distracted that it’s difficult for me to get vulnerable and in my body enough to get horny.  I know the main thing that makes me horny is intimacy: feeling safe, feeling loved.

Or that gets me started, anyway.  Later, pain play and power play get me the very most horny, as well as transgressive fantasies and words.

But it’s a two part process at least.  I need connection’s deep warmth in order to get started.  If I can’t have that, I just hold my spouse as he masturbates, or I go down on him, and we never get to my orgasm.

Yes, the argument was partly about orgasm.  I hadn’t come in a week.  Sure I can masturbate on my own, but I tend not to.  I said some angry things about my spouse acting dick-centric lately.  It’s complicated by disability and the needs of others getting in the way of our best intentions.

Well, here’s the list.

to do on the date
  • conversation about how we’re doing, how our bodies feel
  • undress
  • one minute eye contact
  • hold hands and do the “your needs matter”
  • three deep breaths together
  • long standing up hug
  • you give me a taste of the honey on a spoon
  • put coconut oil gently on my nipples
  • rub my neck and shoulders where they hurt
  • you lie down and I rub your legs
  • I put the honey on your dick and suck it off–none on my hands
  • you support me as I masturbate
  1. pillow arranged
  2. touch my lower back
  3. kiss me
  4. touch my nipples
  5. hold me
  6. legs touching my legs when possible
  • you masturbate on me
  • cuddle
  • get my breakfast and make me tea

I didn’t know we would get in a loop where I wanted my nipples rubbed with coconut oil a few times.  So he would rub my neck and shoulders, and I would ask for my nipples anointed more.  I was sitting on the bed as he stood, and I’d lean back with my hands on the bed and my tits sticking out.  He would anoint me, and I’d quietly moan with pleasure.

Then I’d sit up and hold onto his naked ass, hug him to me, and growl as he rubbed my neck and shoulders.  And I’d ask for my nipples touched again.  We did that loop many times.  I was reluctant to leave it.

Another surprise was his coming as I went down on him.  Off script, I’d been rubbing his dick with coconut oil.  So by the time I got some honey on his dick and slurped it down, he was ready.  I put a second dab of honey on him and licked it all over his dick, sucked his dick seriously, and he came easily.

I swallowed his cum mixed with the honey, so delicious, then sucked his dick some more afterward as he emoted joyfully.

Then he apologized for cumming at the wrong time.  According to our itinerary, he was supposed to masturbate on me after I came.

I was like–“Sweetheart, that’s fine.  Of course you can cum whenever you cum.   I thought about telling you that, but I thought you would just know.”

(We have a great debate on how to spell cum.  I have transitioned to “cum,” which is so slutty.  I love it.  Thank you for encouraging me to slide to the right on the slut scale, dear spouse pumpkin.)

what I learned

Yes, this sexual itinerary helped.  I was able to share what I wanted, and we had something to refer to.  We followed it faithfully, yet were flexible enough to repeat what we most wanted when desire diverged.  We both got what we wanted, which was for me to cum, and for us to connect very deeply.

It helped to have a lot of time to not feel rushed, and it helped to feel the mutual concern and willingness.  The whole experience was healing.  This morning when we were standing in the same places where we did the standing up parts, I found myself aroused and wanting more.

I’m not really a woman, and my spouse is certainly not a man.  But we got parts that make me think of those genders.  Maybe hormones surged in ways that predispose us toward certain behaviors.  The dude cliche of “always good to go” and the lady cliche of “needing a lot of time to warm up” both apply here.


My spouse took the sexual itinerary off its clipboard and hung it on his side of the bed, not asking whose it was.  I felt impressed that he was claiming it for love.

“Are you wanting to do that again?” I asked when I saw it.

“Yes,” he said.

There’s still a little special honey in the dish, and I know what to do with it.

By Nest

Curious, disabled Earth Goddess, telling the truth.

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