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Replacing "Dirty Talk" With "Clean Talk"

Replacing "Dirty Talk" With "Clean Talk"
Self

Sex Ed With Sharon And Robert: A novel, Chapter Two

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Once Robert and I got started talking in bed, it was amazing to see how effective it was. I would never have guessed that stopping sex and talking about my feelings would make it better. I had focused on getting aroused, increasing the arousal, and going to that incredible place that leads to orgasm. I thought that was it.

But after we read Reclaiming Healthy Sexual Energy: Revised, we decided to try talking to see what would happen. The author gave us instructions.

We were surprised at how hard it was to get started. We thought that everyone talked about sex. But, no. People don’t “talk clean.” They don’t talk about what they do in bed, what they like and want to change. And they really don’t talk about emotions.

I noticed that I was thinking about “them.” Not me.

Who would have thought that having some fear, and letting it come without trying to stop it, would actually improve my arousal? That’s just crazy, isn’t it? But it wasn’t.

One time I asked him about my body. I thought I was a little too fat. Love handles and flabby inner thighs. They must be a turn off. Maybe he imagined I looked different so he could perform.

So I asked.

“Babe,” I said after pulling him away from my crotch. “I have a question.”

Robert looked up, smiling, and stretched himself out perpendicular to me with his head on my pubic area.

“What do you think of my body?” I started. “I mean, really, not what you’re suppose to say, not the flattering things men say when aroused and they want you.”

“Other men?” he said laughing. “Sharon, you’re going to compare me to other men?” He was trying to help me get through my discomfort.

“I sometimes want to turn off the light so you can’t see me,” I said. “I hope you’ll be okay with me in the dark.” (www.AnneStirlingHastings.com has free short stories & inexpensive novels)

Robert sat up and looked right at me. This was serious.

“Sharon,” he began. “I love your body. Because I love you. I don’t need you to be different.”

“Oh. Good. But I don’t have the kind of body that porn stars have, or even a lot of women showing themselves off at the coffee shop.”

I appreciated that he took time to think about what he would say next.

“Well, yes, your body isn’t like porn stars. If I wanted to get aroused by looking at a hot body, it wouldn’t be yours.”

That hurt. I already knew it, but still it hurt.

(www.AnneStirlingHastings.com offers the rest of this novel)

“But it wouldn’t be most women’s, either. It takes a certain shape, and also a posture and facial expression. And movement if it’s a video or a woman at the coffee shop.”

“Why did you date me, then? Why did you want to sleep with me? Were you desperate? Do those women not find you attractive? Could you not get one of them so you settled for me?”

Then along came those emotions we were learning about. Pain. Oh, such huge pain. He settled for me. A strange sort of broken sob came out of my mouth.

“Babe, no. That’s not it at all. I might lust for one of those women, but I don’t want to be in relationship with one. Please believe me,” he said. “I dated one for a short time, and it was a disaster. She hooked me with flirting, and then hooked a lot of other guys the same way. She didn’t really want me, she just wanted to hook me.”

“But you would have wanted her if she had been true to you?”

“No. Really, it was a great lesson in what I don’t want. I was conditioned to think that hot women are good. But that whole competitive thing, who’s the hottest, how many can I get, is just not love. And then Playboy Magazine was an influence, too. My friends and I looked at the pictures together, and it cemented in our brains what’s desirable. Those sweet, naked women who look at you adoringly. That was more appealing to me than the hard core stuff.”

“But those women still turn you on?”

“Yeah…. I’m sorry, Babe, but they do.”

“What do you imagine when you see one?”

“Are you sure you really want to know? It’s a guy thing, it just happens. I don’t go out looking, but when I see it, yeah, I still react.”

“And compare them to me?”

“No. No. It hasn’t anything to do with us. With you. What we do is loving. I want you sexually all the time. You know that. It feels warm and special. I feel so good the next day, too. It’s in a different world from seeing a hot woman.”

“Should I diet and work out more? And dress and color my hair so I can look more like what makes you hot?”

Robert stared at me. He shook his head. “That would be the strangest thing. That reaction and being with you are in different realities. There’s no way they can come together. I don’t want them coming together. So, no. Don’t change yourself.”

“But I’m too fat.” I had wanted to bring this up for years, but instead I had tried to keep him from noticing. Was that crazy?

“If you want to diet, you can, but not for me. Do you know how awful that would feel to know that you suffered in an attempt to please me? How would you feel if I thought I should get my penis enlarged? Of if I should have butt implants so you would think I was hot?”

Well, that made all of this look pretty stupid. I could see the logic of what he said, but it didn’t take away my criticism of my body. This must be the shame that Anne Stirling Hastings writes about in her books. I got it from somewhere. It wasn’t coming from Robert. Now how do I get rid of it?

“Robert, I want to make love with the lights on and our eyes open and see what happens. Okay?”

His smile was genuine as he nodded.

“How about if you go down on me again, and I watch you. And we talk about my vulva. How it looks, what you do to it. How you feel about doing it.”

I noticed that his penis got erect. He really did like the idea. It turned him on, not off as I had feared. Nice.

Still lying on his side perpendicular to me, he looked at me while he ran his fingers over my clitoris. “I love doing this, and using my tongue to do it, too. Do you know why? Because it turns you on. Right now your eyes are softening and you’re breathing harder. Your body is melting, isn’t it?”

I laughed. “Yes, of course.”

“And then I put fingers inside, and you moan in that way you have. I know what you like best so I do that. Or I tease you, make you wait. You love that, too, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

I put my hands on my love handles, then on my tummy. “What about this fat?” I asked. “Are you looking at it?”

“Yes. I can see it because I’m looking at you while I play with you.”

He pushed fingers into me, and shifted his body so he could put his other hand on my tummy. First he rubbed above my pubic bone, which increased my sensations. Then he grabbed one love handle. Scooting up to me, he took my breast in his mouth, and rubbed his erection against me. Since I wasn’t stimulating it, he obviously didn’t find my body a turn off.

“You don’t find my body a turn off,” I said.

He laughed and shook his head. “You silly person, of course not. I love loving you, Sharon. I get hot from turning you on. When I see your body wanting me, I want nothing more than to be inside you. I want to give you what you want.”

I looked down at my tummy. My fat. Surprisingly it was starting to change. My fears weren’t gone, but my skin actually looked different to me. So this was what we were after. Talk. Feel. Love. Listen. Accept. Change.

Yummy.

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