Hard to come by header image shows a woman, dressed in a black skirt and top, dancing on a rock.

Hard To Come By – Barefoot’s Orgasm Journey

Hard to come by header image shows a woman, dressed in a black skirt and top, dancing on a rock.
Image: Cottonbro, pexels.com

Words have been hard to come by for a little while, and as a result my writing over here has suffered. But I would love to get my mojo back before the summer holidays hit so decided to do something about it. I was pottering around in my blog, looking for inspiration, when I spotted an old post of mine. Knowledge Is Power was written as a response to the Tell Me About prompt: Questions. Tell Me About is a wonderful resource for kinksters, a place where they can find lots of posts on personal experiences, thoughts and opinions. A while ago Missy set the old prompts to open ended link ups, and I’ve been meaning to head back again. Time slips by, but yesterday I spotted a prompt which works for me.

Because unlike words, some things aren’t hard for me to come by…

Orgasms!

I’ve been very lucky recently. There’s been a series of tasks which have meant lots of opportunity to reaching the heady heights of pleasure. Possibly given because I was climbing the walls, like a bitch on heat, after Sir’s last visit. Maybe to remind me to be careful what I wish for. But almost definitely to entertain him and fulfil my needs.

But what are my needs? And how have they changed over the years?

From my first experiences I loved sex. Beds, cars, fields, beaches…. These, and many other places, are where my early explorations were enjoyed. Orgasms, I had them. My first boyfriends mum had a vibrator which was a welcome addition. Added into the anal play we enjoyed I wasn’t short of release. We both enjoyed giving and receiving oral, but I wasn’t particularly receptive. Though I did enjoy it very much.

Once we were no longer together I stretched my wings, and my cunt. Both using toys and multiple men to fill me and make me cum that way.

But all that changed when I met P.

We had satisfying sex to start with. He’d indulge me in little fantasies, he’d fuck my arse, he’d even put on gang bang porn for me. Sadly this bliss didn’t last long. He would toss insults around, point out how disgusting my taste in porn was. He’d stop pretending that he enjoyed the sex I did because it was wrong. And then he stopped even spitting on my ass for anal. Which meant that I would usually be comfortable and able to relax. Orgasms are hard to come by if you’re not relaxed!

The one thing he did insist on was that he lick me. I knew, and communicated, that although it felt nice it wasn’t going to get me off. But he would go down there anyway. And then refuse to come up until he fell asleep. Then would berate me for not orgasming, before fucking me and falling back to sleep again.

Joyful sex?

Towards the end of our marriage he bought me a rabbit. It was important to him, he said, that I have an orgasm each week. He would march me to our bedroom and shut the door. Making a big fuss with the children, outside the bedroom door, that mummy was too busy for them and I’d be out soon.

Fortunately I was sometimes able to orgasm in the permitted timeframe, and that felt like an achievement. Though, sadly, not necessarily for me. So I occasionally supplemented on the rare occasions I had time for me. Secret orgasms felt so much better than ones that he had orchestrated.

When I met Sir I was convinced that I could only achieve one orgasm at a time. Rarely would I have two in one day, and never immediately after. Sir thought perhaps this might all be able to change, and if it didn’t at least we’d have fun trying!

The first time he asked to see me orgasm I filmed the wrong end. This meant he asked me to repeat and show him my face as I climaxed. My second orgasm was not hard to come by, and the video was gratefully received. More importantly the block had been cleared.

That is almost eight years ago now.

What a lot has changed!

Over the time, I’ve learnt a lot about orgasms and how they work for me. I’ve enjoyed countless orgasms by my own hand, and enjoyed lovers to mutual benefits. But this post is meant to be about orgasms in relation to my submission so let’s get back to Sir. He has been responsible for a significant percentage of mine since I met him, whether that is when he’s here in person, away but in contact, and when he is away-away.

Without doubt the pleasure I experience through my physical submission to Sir are my favourite. But our time together is limited and so he has his ways of giving me what I need when he’s not here.

Orgasm control is such a powerful part of our dynamic.

Before I met him I didn’t realise there was such variety. I’d watched women being made to cum in porn since my early indulgences, and was excited to learn this is called forced orgasm. I’d not even been aware of denial or edging until he asked me about them. Google was my friend and told me that I would be curious to try.

Our first scene together had me hooked on this form of play!

I’d handed over control of my orgasms before we’d met in person, but being fully immersed in this addictive pleasure play, in the hands of a man who quickly learnt every single one of my buttons. Buttons I have become adept at fiddling with myself over the years.

My tasks can often consist of a set number of orgasms a day, edging a specified amount each day or not touching at all! I know I find all of these hard when I’m completing them, but the no touching one renders me needy, wet and paranoid that drying myself after the shower is going to land me in trouble. However, he hasn’t taken control 24/7. I’m generally not under any limitations as to my masturbation.

Though I love it when he curbs my misadventures, and crave it when he doesn’t, I am fully aware that sex toy reviews won’t happen if I’m under permanent control so am also grateful for his thinking about things I forget. And I can always play my own games, I was taught early on to be my own Sir when he is unavailable. (More on this for another of the prompts though…) Edging is a task I’ve learnt to set myself when he is away and I want to feel connected to him.

Sometimes, however, I am taken by surprise by his control over my pleasure.

And he wouldn’t even be aware of them if I didn’t tell him. There are certain trains of thought which rumble through my mind before hitting my apex, usually centred around his eyes locking on mine as I come. Or his lips grazing my cheek, fingers trailing up my thigh, inhaling his scent… All sorts really, these are just a few. There are stretches of road which I have to avoid driving down (thankfully not local) or risk a spontaneous orgasm behind the wheel. The mind is an amazing thing, don’t you think?

BDSM has opened my mind to the possibility of cumming multiple times, to psychological orgasms and has embedded that anal, cervical and stretch -gasms are an important part of my satisfaction. But there’s something else that I enjoy.

Pain-gasms.

I can experience these through pain alone, or as a powerfully blended mix with clitoral and/or vaginal stimulation.

To layer the pain, and build to a crescendo, takes time and relaxation. The end result is a delightful mix of energy and calm. To blend intense sensations of pain and forced orgasm is likely to blow my mind, and melt it out of my ears. The former is for solo play and sometimes with friends. Hell, I can even get there fully clothed with only my feet exposed. While I have recently enjoyed the latter with a friend on a gentle level, the deeper, darker play is reserved for Sir. I love to take the pain he wishes to give, knowing he will always stretch me. He will always take care of me, and trusts that I will communicate my levels. I, in turn, trust that he will stop as needed.

While my inner masochist is not generally submissive, this submissive adores her sadistic Sir, and finds great pleasure through these scenes and the days that follow. I think this is one reason why I love to have him in control of my pain. Because, you see, it is his to do with as he pleases. Along with my sexual adventures. Light and shade, pleasure and pain.

None of which are hard to come by when Sir is around.

Both when we are together or long distance, with him inside my head. And I’ve had much much opportunity to learn my own body, what buttons need pressing. You know what they say: “Practise makes perfect.” And while I know it’s unlikely I’ll ever stop discovering new things that make me tick, I’m now in a much better place to share what works for me with those who I share my body with. No longer do I put up with people telling me what my body should be responding to, and accept nothing less than what my body appreciates, and translates into climax. The physical side for me is incredible, but when it’s coupled with my submission… Receiving orgasms for him, touching myself, or having him put me through my paces until I’m gushing expletives (and blushing hard, but that’s for another time) is truly on another level.

From hard to come by, to hard to stop…

I’m sure there will come a time when orgasms are less forthcoming. When this happens I’m sure I’ll find other ways to make mischief that don’t involve release. Pleasure is the measure, after all. But for now, I shall make the most of Sir overseeing proceedings and continue to make hay while the sun shines.

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Hard To Come By – Barefoot’s Orgasm Journey is the latest addition to my Tell Me About archives. Perhaps you might also enjoy Cunnilingus And Me.

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