“Will you open my cunt like a book? Will you read it?” I asked.
We were in bed naked with not a lot of time. I prefer an hour for sex–a journey we take together.
So we were cuddling and having some sexy moments without the entire process. I didn’t want to be completely vulnerable and go the other world; we wouldn’t have time to cuddle and re-enter shared reality skillfully.
I asked what they wanted, and my spouse had told me that they wanted to go down on me. Yes, they often want to go down on me.
open it
“Please open the book and tell me what it says,” I said.
I lay back on the bed with my legs spread. My spouse knelt between my legs and opened my cunt lips.
“What does it say?” I asked.
“It’s beautiful,” my spouse said.
“Is it pink? Is it wet?” I asked.
“Yes,” my spouse said. “It’s beautiful.”
“What is it telling you?” I asked.
“I love you,” they said.
“What do you learn?” I asked.
learning
It bothers me in public bathrooms to have an overwhelming synthetic scent because I need to smell my own body to learn about my health. The smell of my own pee gives me information about the well-being of my urinary system. The knowledge I receive affects my behaviors, like I need to drink extra water or get more rest.
Likewise when I almost died of an internal bleed, my poop smelled a certain way. I’m always curious if I will smell that again. Advanced warning would be nice if another dangerous situation is developing.
My cunt goes through its monthly process, and I enjoy being aware of it. I spent the first part of my life wishing I was just a head and trying to ignore my body, its needs, its messes. What a sad way to live. I was repressed.
These days I’m doing the opposite, honored to have a body and happy to tend it. I track my periods, which helps me plan for events. Seems respectful to pay attention to my own changes. Hormones affect my moods, and my moods affect everything I do. Also if I was accidentally pregnant I’d want to know that asap so I could make intentional choices about how to proceed with my options.
There’s the old joke of a man asking a woman for a date, and she says, “No, I need to wash my hair.” It’s a way to push the man away and is supposed to be disingenuous. But my evening plans are often to be kind to my body. Not by washing my hair, but other ways.
questions for discussion
How are you kind to your body?
What do you want to learn?
Did you hate your body when you were young? How far have you come?
Is there a certain amount of time you like set aside to have sex?
Do you have sex-related policies, and are they flexible or rigid?
Where do you find sexual beauty?
What book do you want to read?
