Losing My Phone Sex Virginity

Last night, Mr. Curls called me after the boys were asleep.

"Hey sweetie," he said. "What have you been up to?"

I paused for a minute before I answered, because there was one thing in particular that I'd been up to not long before he called. "Oh a little of this, a little of that," I said. "Um, you know how you told me earlier that you wished I was there this morning?"

(During an earlier phone call, Mr. Curls had left the apartment for a couple of minutes to tell me he'd woken up with a bit of morning wood which had made him think about me, which hadn't helped the situation. Since the boys were already up and about, he hadn't felt right about taking matters into his own hands, even behind his locked bedroom door.)

"Uh huh," he said.

"Well, a little while ago, I was thinking about that, and I was in the kind of mood where it would have been really nice if you'd been here and naked. But, as it was, I had to take matters into my own hands."

"Oh really?" From the sound of his voice, I could tell he was smiling. "Why don't you tell me about that?"

From there, the conversation led to an interest I'd expressed in watching Mr. Curls jerk himself off. It's something I'd like to see, but something he's been too bashful so far to try. I decided he might feel less weird about it if he knew why I wanted to see it, and I told him there were a couple of parts to it. One: seeing him pleasure himself might show me a new thing to try the next time I was the one touching him. Two: there's a bit of a voyeuristic appeal there and since I don't have a penis, most of the ejaculations I've been around tend to happen inside me, so I can't really see what's going on. So, there's a definite curiosity motivation there.

After a while, as we continued to talk about sex, he said, "I really wish you were here right now. This conversation has gotten me in a certain frame of mind..."

"Are you in your room?" I asked.

"Yeah."

"Are you on your bed?"

"Yeah."

"Are you hard?"

"Yeah."

"Mmm..." Since we had recently been talking about my interest in him masturbating, I mentioned there was a way to try it out a bit, maybe get him comfortable with the idea.

"Hmm..." he said. "I've never done that before."

"Neither have I." I was nervous about it. I wasn't sure what to say, or what to do. All I knew is that it seemed like the phone call was headed in that direction, and who am I to say "no" to a little experimentation?

"Am I going to be on my own here?" Mr. Curls asked. "Because, I think it'd be more fun if you were touching yourself too."

"I already am."

"Good."

It was an interesting experience to fly solo without exactly being solo. I got to practice being descriptive and using my imagination. Having his voice in my ear while I masturbated was pretty hot. I remained just a bit self conscious throughout, but in the good way that added a little bit of a thrill to it. There's something about phone sex that's just a little taboo to me, I'm not sure why, so it made me feel a little naughty.

This morning, I can't hardly even look at my phone without blushing.

Doctor's Orders

Mr. Curls had another visit with the doctor and physical therapist today and afterward, I was asking him about what they had to say about how he's healing up and when they'd give him the okay to go back to work. We were chatting about that for a few minutes, when talk of him being healed enough to go back to work lead to talk about him being okay for other activities.

"There was one thing the doctor mentioned... He mentioned you, actually. He said as long as we took it kind of easy, I should be well enough to get naughty with you. In fact," he winked, "the doctor said that the particular hip movements involved would actually be good for me. You know, like physical therapy."

"Oh, really?" I said.

"Really."

"Well, I guess I could go along with that," I said, taking off his shirt. "You know, in the spirit of doing my part to help you get healed up."

I was a little bit worried at first, but there proved to be no need. Afterward, Mr. Curls informed me that the doctor was right and it had helped. His back felt better. Talk about a good prescription ;)

What's Sex? What Isn't?

I'm a big fan of City Girl's blog, and I'm totally flattered that she's got a post up that responds to a comment I left the other day. Go read the post, it's a good one.

In short, the conversation is about the definition of sex. Most people can agree that if you give someone a kiss, that doesn't count as sex. Most people can agree that if there is a penis in a vagina and an ejaculation, that's sex.

It's the degrees in between that get fuzzy. For City Girl, the difference between fooling around and sex is penetration: "I define sex in a Clinton-esque fashion. (And, by Clinton, I mean Bill, not Hillary.) Did a guy penetrate me vaginally or anally with his cock? If so, then we had sex, and I’m carving another notch in my bedpost. If not, then I did not have sexual relations with that man."

At the end of the post, she asks her readers what their definition of sex is. For me, sex is based on the sex organs. My definition of sex includes things like hand jobs and oral sex.

On the logistics, City Girl and I differ. The interesting part, though is that, in a way, we agree more than we disagree. Even though we draw the line differently, we draw it for the same reason. The border between fooling around and sex for both of us is based on emotion. She said, "I can disconnect my emotions from hands and oral, but I can’t disconnect from traditional or anal sex." My emotions get tied in a lot sooner than hers is all.

And Then There Was a Vibrator

Sunday night, after Mr. Curls had dropped off the boys with their mom, I went over to see him. This was the first time since I got my X-rated mail that he and I had a chance to be together privately. When I got there, he was pretty worn out from running around with the boys all weekend and the first thing we did was cuddle up on the couch. After the "how was your day" chit chat, I got brave enough to mention what I'd been thinking ever since I walked in the door.

"So, how tired would you say that you are?" I asked, oh-so-nonchalantly.

He gave me the look that said he knew exactly what I meant, then he said, "Oh, you know. Why, is there something in particular you had in mind?"

That's when I started blushing. "Um, well... Um. You know that package I mentioned? I, uh, brought it along and was wondering if you wanted to see what it was."

"Really?" He said it slowly, smiling and enjoying watching me squirm. "Hrm... that's interesting. Yeah, I think I might be kind of curious."

A couple minutes and significantly less clothing later came a bit of show and tell and then a bit of other things.

"So, what do you think?" I asked him afterward.

"What do you think?" He countered.

"I like adding it in. You?"

"I like it. It was interesting to feel the vibrations through you. I liked that. I especially like that you like it."

The experiment went well. I'm glad. Not just for, ahem, obvious reasons. I'm also glad that I was confident enough with him to even bring up the sex toy idea, much less use one. We're getting each other figured out and I'm getting more comfortable with taking something that had, for years, been a solo activity and turning it into a team sport.

It Came In the Mail, or the X-Rated Package

Mr. Curls and I, in short, have both been out of practice in terms of bedroom shenanigans. This resulted in a bit of awkwardness at the beginning, even a little more so than the typical awkwardness that comes from sleeping with someone new. But, like with many things, practice helps.

"And," I said, "in terms of things to practice, this is certainly a fun one."

He blushed, hid his face in a pillow for a second, then he leaned over and kissed me. "True," he said.

Practice helps, and the other day I was thinking that it might be interesting to add in another type of help. (Gosh, I'm blushing already, I can feel it.) Once, a couple years ago, I ordered a vibrator from Babeland. Last week I put in another order. This time for the Babeland Silver Bullet vibrator. I mentioned this to Mr. Curls the other night, and his reaction was a combination of surprise and curiosity. "Really?" he said. "Hrm..."

Yesterday, my package arrived. Since he was with his kids, I was left to my own, er, devices. I mean, since it was a new thing, it only seemed right to test it out before adding Mr. Curls into the mix. Test it I did. It was the best thing I've gotten in the mail in quite some time. (Note to self: put batteries on the shopping list.)

During our phone chat last night, we got to talking about it.

"In other news," I said, "that package I was telling you about came today."

"Oh," he said. "Interesting."

We talked about sex toys for a while. I almost asked him if he's used them with a partner before, but I balked. I know he's got the exes, and intellectually I know he had sex with them. I just don't want to really think about that. I knew if I asked, he'd tell me, and then I'd visualize and... ugh, just didn't want to go there.

At any rate, the general outcome of the conversation was that he's open for experimenting. He seemed a little nervous about it at first, because I think the first thing he imagined when I said sex toy was strap-on (mostly because of an unfortunate experience he had helping someone move and accidentally discovering theirs when they asked him to pack up some clothes). But, once I described it, he was more relaxed. I told him, "The idea is that it's complimentary."

"Right," he said. "I can see that." Then he paused. "So, did you try it out?"

"Um, yeah."

He laughed, 'cause he could hear the blush in my voice. "Hrm..." he said. It sounded like he was grinning.

My Curly-Haired Valentine, or Mr. Curls Gets Laid

Mr. Curls and I spent the afternoon and most of the night together today. I cooked us dinner, we rented a movie, and we talked more about his relationship history. I was nervous bringing it up, but needed to understand more about it. He was uncomfortable talking about it, but he puts a high premium on honesty and being straight with me, so he told me about wife #1 and wife #2, with more info on #2 since that story's more recent. He regrets the whole wife #2 thing, but until someone invents a time machine, there's not much he can do to change it.

I appreciated that he was straight with me, especially since it's a subject he'd rather not talk about. But, I learned the most important thing I wanted to learn, that the rebound marriage episode was a mistake and not a pattern.

It's weird that, given his past, we've had to be so up front so quickly. We've talked about issues that most couples don't talk about this early, but I wouldn't say it's a bad thing. Just a matter of having less being eased into things and more being chucked in the deep end. But, I'm still feeling okay with the complications. I'm cautious, but I don't hear alarms going off in the back of my mind.

So, it was with all that in mind (and the fact that my period's decided to hold off just a bit longer), that I decided tonight would be a good night to sleep with him. I was nervous, and so was he, and I'm mostly just glad that the first time is behind us now. That sounds terrible, doesn't it? But, couples get better at sex after they've had a chance to know what the other person likes. Our 2nd time will be better, and so on.

I'm glad we had sex tonight. It made me more relaxed with him, because first-time sex was the biggest scary thing for me, and now we've had it. Scary thing over. We stayed in bed a good long while after, cuddling and talking and I didn't freak out. Okay, maybe a very, very small voice whispered in my head to run (or, rather, kick him out), but it was more a reaction to me internalizing this whole girlfriend idea - him saying the word was one thing, but having sex is what really hit it home.

On a side note, he gave me a present today. When he said he wanted to give me something, I was a little worried that it'd be something too big, something expensive or whatnot. Turns out, the present was perfect - a necklace that's beautiful but inexpensive and I love it to death. I wore it all day today and when I hung it up after he left, it made me smile. I've got boyfriend jewelry :)

I've got a boyfriend.

I've got a boyfriend with a complicated past, but one who's warm and sweet and respectful and all kinds of other things that make me believe he's worth the complications. I'm in it now. I've officially crossed over the line into believing that this is an genuine relationship. The thought makes me a bit light headed, but in a good way.