Things I forgot to say when I guested on F**ks Given!

17 October 2019

DISCLAIMER: THIS POST IS V V SEXY. Parents, other family members, family friends, basically anyone who thinks of me as a sexless and wholesome being, please do not read any further. Ta. 


Okay so, I was utterly thrilled to be a guest on one of my favourite podcasts recently; F**ks Given, hosted by the formidable Florence and Reed, aka Come Curious, a show that invites guests to chat about ‘all things sexy’ and smash the taboo that still surrounds sexuality, kinks and 'body counts'.

I have listened to this podcast since it began, and it wasn’t long before I started dreaming up my own responses to the questions Florence and Reed ask their guests. So when we started following each other (as in, me and @comecurious; the two hosts are @reedamberx and @florencebark respectively) on social media, I thought ‘OOOHHH, I’m in!’, and I probably would have been asked if I’d just waited patiently but noooo, Drunk Me decided one evening that patience was for suckers and dived right in with a tweet (it went something like ‘I am GAGGING to be on the show, holy sh*t’). Fortunately, I was taken up on my offer (/not-so-subtle demand). 


Low key freaking out.

Well, I did it. And yes, it was kind of a dream come true (she writes, low key praying it doesn’t seem totally uncool to the hosts if they get the chance to read this, oh god). I’ve said it before; I bloody LOVE talking sex. I can’t pinpoint when exactly I became so open – it was probably around the time I posted THIS lil thing about the many joys of, and the ridiculous policing of women talking about, wanking – but I am so happy about it. I get such positive vibes (ooh err) from casually discussing sex antics with people I trust over coffee; having ‘how’s it going for you? Wanna try anything new?’ check-ins with my partner, and of course I am always honoured to be an agony aunt to everyone from my closest friends to complete strangers who slip into my DMs. 

Now, here’s the thing. I thought I had every story sorted for the show; my last f**k, first f**k, best f**k and worst f**k – and the f**k that changed me in some way. Actually, I struggled to choose between the worst f**k stories – the more light-hearted ones, anyway – so I let the ladies have their pick of three based on simple code words: Big Dick Sh*t Shag, Arms & Abs, or The Family Friend. (They went for the first option, which was probably best when I think about the people involved in the other stories and how big a strop they’d throw if the audio snippets got to them somehow…)

BUT thinking back, there are a few things I feel I could have expanded on, edited somewhat or just changed completely. For instance, I might have changed my ‘f**k that changed me’ story. I originally had three options for that one in my mind when we started recording, and then in the moment when I had to make a snap decision, I went for an unlikely one – the very recent story of my boyfriend watching me shower in the morning, and then wank. I talked about how I no longer feel pressure to perform, during sex. There was a time when I’d shriek and moan in what I thought was a super sexy – and definitely not at all natural – way purely for the pleasure of my partners; I’d always want them to feel they were doing well, and I was really and truly having fun. How weird is it that in order to convince them of that, I would impede my enjoyment!? I used to focus so hard on looking good and sounding a certain way, that I’d lose my grip on my own pleasure, and often finish unsatisfied. And let me tell you: 

NOT. WORTH. IT. 

We had a knack, it turns out, for not quite syncing our silly faces.

While that was definitely an important thing to talk about, in a way I feel I fell short in my body positive principles a little by not telling a different story. So I’m rectifying that now! Here’s option #2 in the 'F**k That Changed Me’ category…

I was seeing a pretty cute tattoo artist. We’d been on a few dates in Brighton, and it was the first time I’d gone back to his place. Unbeknownst to him, it was also the first time I’d gone back to ANYONE’S place since my two tummy surgeries. Since I’d got my biggest scar, right down my middle. I was very fresh into the body positivity movement at that point, and was slowly but surely embracing my body after this most recent big change, but I had been nervous about actually taking my clothes off for someone, and inviting them to touch this ‘new me’. Well, I needn’t have worried, because it just wasn’t that big a deal in the end. I did have a flash of feeling intensely vulnerable when I pulled my dress over my head, but it soon passed.

I’ve found that since I’ve got my scars, built up my confidence and truly accepted and learned to love my body for all it does and what it’s been through, I’ve felt more sexy. I actually feel a bit sad for Past Me, who was always so insecure; my ex would comment on how I held myself while we laid together in bed, how I always had my hands over my tummy or squeezed my boobs together a bit, and I’d calmly explain that I simply wasn’t comfortable with certain parts of me. These days, though? I do not give a shit. Well, I do, but in a positive way. I find myself sexy, but don’t feel the need to make any extra effort to BE sexy. You know? And I savour every moment of validation, but not in a ‘I need the good feedback’ way, in more of a ‘yeah, I know’ kind of way. Like when I made a guy yell slightly and come way too quickly as soon as I turned around in bed – he apologised after, and explained that the view of me from behind was just too much for his brain(s), and I allowed myself to feel super smug. 


*


Now, for the third option in this 'F**k That Changed Me' category. I want to throw in a trigger warning here! Because, to give you readers some context, I’d just spoken about my ‘darker’ worst f**k just before this question, and that was the time I was assaulted. 

The aforementioned assault messed me up for quite a while. Almost three years, actually. And that bad memory was obviously combined with my many years of illness and trauma, which I think have, without my realising until it was too late, made me so self-reliant and introverted that I didn’t have any room in my mind and my safe spaces for anyone else. 

So I was struggling to reconnect with my body, and despite longing for some sexy fun, I was also nervous to go out and look for it. I didn’t trust anyone I got close to, and actually the few times I DID have sex, I found I’d be ready and excited for the few seconds until it properly ‘started up’, and then I’d suddenly be overcome with sadness and actual resentment for the person who was f**king me. In that moment, as they touched me and did a lot of the things I used to enjoy, I would hate them a bit. I still can’t work out why; because I felt they were taking something from me, maybe? Because I felt I was giving myself over to them, and lowering my normally sky-high walls? Yes. Definitely. Try as I might, it was almost impossible to open myself up to anyone again. I started to feel like a fraud, when I gave friends advice and shared sex stories; there were only two people I confided in about my true feelings, and even then it was right at the end of my unhappy three years. 

Then along came Hands (as he’s known on social media). I won’t bore you with my gushing about our ridiculous movie-moment meet-cute, and lovely first couple of dates, I’ll just say that I had a very good inkling about this guy. I was immediately comfortable, and felt I could be myself in his company. When we started having sex, I felt more relaxed than I had in ages. I even found myself staying naked with him for a little while afterwards – whereas for the past three years I’d been hurriedly getting redressed as soon as I could, usually when I ran to the loo for my post-sex pee (which FYI, is the best way to avoid UTIs, my fellow vagina owners!). I even opened up a little more, after the third or fourth time, and touched lightly on what I’d been through and what I wouldn’t want to do, etc. It’s amazing how quickly I settled into a partnership with this one; how easy it felt, despite everything that’s happened to me and how closed off I’d become.

The specific f**k that changed me, though? One particular time, early on in the sexual relationship, we were going hard and fast, the fire was raging, and then as we both climaxed, I grabbed onto him and urgently gasped his name. Upon hearing this he paused and, obviously concerned, asked ‘what??’ and I said breathlessly: 

‘I… really like you.’

Yes, I know it’s cheesy as f**k, but let me tell you, after years of distance and longing and numbness and frustration, that was a HUGE moment. It was when I opened up again. And then, as if the involuntary declaration of liking wasn't enough of a sign, I think it was the next time we f**ked, my favourite song came on shuffle afterwards, as we lay there naked. I hadn't actually listened to that song in years without feeling upset, because I'd heard it sung live for the first time the night I was assaulted. I really felt the universe pulling me into a hug, then; I heard it murmuring gently in my ear 'you're okay, now'. 

Positively glowing after all the sex talking.


Something else I didn't get to say properly while we recorded the podcast was how grateful I am, not just because I was given the opportunity to feature in an episode,  but because this show is one of my absolute favourites; the sex positivity is beautifully refreshing, I love how different every guest is and am amazed at how much it teaches me every week. Also, the gals’ voices are friendly and comforting while also sexy as f**k!? Ooofftt. I hope their platforms continue to grow, blowing minds (and other things) in the process. 



Oh damn, I also wanted to somehow shoehorn in that I give great blowjobs. Because I do. Just FYI. Ask anyone! 



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