sex

'I was bored and frustrated in lockdown. So I started having virtual BDSM sex online.'

NSFW: This article contains sexually explicit details and may not be appropriate for all readers

I’ve never really been able to get into porn. I can’t relate to some DD bouncing 19-year-old with a butt hole that can seemingly engulf a car, getting roughly gang-banged while writhing in pleasure.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy rough and dirty sex if the mood strikes. Butt play is a new highly pleasurable discovery for me. But hours of brutal anal sex to the point of rose budding? No, thank you.

In high school, porn set up some unrealistic expectations.

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Video via Mamamia.

And a large divide. 

The guys were seriously into it. Meanwhile, us girls were reading Cosmopolitan, Mills & Boon, and Erica Jong — dreaming of romance, desire and suave men who would slowly let our long slinky dresses fall to the floor before ravishing us.

One of my close girlfriends confided that while her and her boyfriend had been engaging in heavy petting, he’d suddenly — without warning — fisted her. He was genuinely surprised she didn’t love it. And that it hurt. A lot.

When I started exploring BDSM and looking for a Dom, I avoided porn.

It didn’t reflect the way I fantasised about engaging or being sexually stimulated. So instead, I found myself on an online website for the kink community.

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Online sex has changed how I think about my body and my own sexual pleasure.

Firstly, there were active forums where I could read comments and find information. They answered questions such as: What makes a good Dom? How do you train a sub? What are the expectations on both sides? I could actively engage and participate at whatever level I wanted to.

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The photos really turned me on: A still of a woman, blindfolded and restrained, legs spread — a large erect penis just outside her vagina, waiting eagerly. Sometimes there was a vibrator or butt plug already inserted.

I could imagine how that would feel — being teased, unable to control this entering of my body, desperate for it. And slowly finally, feeling him edge his way inside of me. Hmmmm.

After I finally posted, I started receiving personal messages. A LOT of personal messages. Some were, "Hey Girl, you're hot" (instant delete) or, "I want to f**k you so hard right now" (no thanks, can get that anywhere).

Then there was, "I saw your post. You seem like an intelligent, interesting woman and your pictures are extremely erotic. Can you tell me more about what you’re looking for?"

If their profile was interesting and they were reasonably articulate, I’d respond and we’d build a rapport. Over time, the messages would get a bit more personal and sexy.

This is where my anonymous online sexual adventures really began.

Now the messages would get a more demanding — asking me to do things — sexual things — and send photos or videos.

Up until now, my masturbation practices had been perfunctory at best. In my early years, they never involved penetration and were solely clitoral. 

Only recently had I started to incorporate a vibrator and some nipple tweaking. That was really the extent of it.

Now I was being asked — no, commanded — to try new sensations and experience things I’d never even thought of before.

One told me to wet a silicone butt plug with my mouth, then insert it slowly into my ass and wear it out to visit friends.

"What the hell?" I thought. "I’ll try it."

The moment I put it in, I was wet. My whole vulva swelled up with desire. It pulsed and ached with arousal. I touched myself and came in seconds. I had no idea that this taboo area of my body was so sensitive and could enhance my pleasure so much.

I wore that plug for a few hours — until it started to feel uncomfortable — then I went to the bathroom, took it out, washed it, wrapped it in toilet paper and put it in my handbag. It felt naughty. A dirty, erotic secret nestled at the bottom of my handbag next to my keys.

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Encouraged and emboldened, I began to explore more.

I never did it on live cam — it was always photos or short little videos. Close-ups of parts of my body — never my face (I like to think I’m being careful).

"I’m bored," I’d text him. "What should I do?"

"I want you to slowly run your hands under your ribcage and over your breasts, then I want you to pinch your nipples under they’re hard."

Oh wow. Now my nipples were on fire. Who knew?

"I want you to wet your smallest butt plug with your tongue. Is it nice and wet? Good girl. Now insert it slowly. Then slowly take it out and slowly re-insert it again. Show me."

I was dripping wet before he even told me to turn my Rabbit on. And when I finally did (with his permission), I came instantly.

Most of this erotic play has been limited to one guy at a time and more recently, one guy in particular (I find it difficult to juggle multiple texts). I’ve yet to see this guy's face. Or he, mine.

I find the anonymity of it extremely erotic and liberating.

It’s enabled me to try new things and fantasise about what I would like to try when the pandemic is over and normal 'socialising' can resume. 

For example, I’m dying to act out a good doctor/nurse fantasy. Or turn up at "his" apartment, be instantly blindfolded, restrained and forced to orgasm until I’m a whimpering mess begging for him to stop.

Online sex has given me newfound freedom to express what I like and don’t.

Something I struggle with in real life.

Years ago, a boyfriend gently brought up anal sex, and I instantly freaked. I leapt out of the bed so fast, I was home before he could even zip up his pants. Now after being able to erotically explore, with some anonymous online encouragement, in the safety of my own home, I’m much more open to the idea.

Online sex allows me to assert boundaries.

If someone pushes me too far, or if their kinks go too far for me, I can just put my phone down.

One guy — one of the rare ones I’d actually met in person early on but hadn’t got physical with — wanted me to remove a butt plug, lick it and say on camera, "I’m your dirty w*ore."

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Yeah, no.

I quickly replied with, "I'm sorry but I think your basic level of kink is still way too far above mine. Sorry to have wasted your time." Delete. Done. Easy.

If this had been in real life, I still doubt I would have done it, but I don’t doubt I would have been pressured or coerced and felt guilty about my refusal.

I’ve also been able to choose how much I engage and give of myself.

Do I want them to know my name? Do I want them to see my face? Do I want to talk to them on the phone? On camera? What is my level of physical and emotional comfort here?

In real life, I’ve frequently ignored my personal comfort levels — both physically and emotionally.

I’ve allowed men to go further and do things I really didn’t want them to — without vocalising my discomfort. I simply wasn’t confident enough to speak up and stop them.

I don’t have that feeling with online sex. I don’t have to answer to them. I only answer to me and my needs. To me, it’s been gratifying, fun, and empowering.

That’s not to say that I will forgo a real, physical relationship in favour of online sex. Quite the opposite.

What I’m noticing now — since I’m just starting to date again — is that online sex has taught me how my body responds sexually and how to express it in a way that sexually satisfies both parties.

I know what turns me on now and I’m better at communicating it in real life.

I can’t wait to bring what I’ve learned online into a real, committed, loving and intimate sexual relationship.

When I finally find one.

Feature Image: Getty.

This article originally appeared on Medium and has been republished with full permission.

Jo Buckman is and English born, mostly Australian writer, currently living in LA. When she’s able to be physically separated from her laptop, she can be found camping, scuba diving, travelling the world or reading a book. Sober and single. Currently exploring sexuality, mental health, love and life – and taking you along for the ride. You can read more of her work here

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