Well, maybe it happened once. One time, when we were having anal, he said he felt like maybe, possibly, he had an orgasm.
But in nine years, that was the only time I can remember that he actually had an orgasm with me, physically. The only times he had an orgasm during play with me were when he did it with his own hand.
There were always reasons, of course. His health issues. I was patient and understanding about that. And being kinky, intercourse doesn’t have to be the main course. We had plenty of other things to do.
It’s not like I didn’t try. I tried giving him oral. I tried jerking him off. It never worked. And I grew to dislike doing those things because I felt like there must be something wrong with what I was doing. He must not have been pleased with me.
I knew that he wasn’t totally happy, because D/s really didn’t work for us. He was perpetually vague about what he wanted from it, and for me, submitting to someone who doesn’t say what they want felt frustrating. I felt emotionally and mentally neglected, and that doesn’t help me feel submissive at all.
But he said that he still wanted me. He said that D/s was only five percent of what he wanted, and that 95 percent was still good.
And yet, he never had an orgasm.
As much as it might seem obvious to say he wasn’t turned on, or he had physical problems, I think the real reason was emotional. He didn’t want to let go. He didn’t want to be vulnerable. He wanted to feel in control.
And in a lot of ways, I think he didn’t feel in control. Not just because of our failed D/s experiment, but in many areas of his life. He didn’t feel in control of himself, his body, his work, or his life.
Sometimes, I felt like his approach to Domination was punitive, or compensatory. He would do things that I had asked him not to, and I couldn’t help but feel that this was his way of trying to establish control. He said that being sensitive to my feelings during play took him out of Dominant head space. I don’t want to give the impression that he was a bad Dom. I just think he struggled with feeling in control.
And that’s also, I feel, why he didn’t want to ask for what he wanted, or ask for help. Asking for help tends to make us feel powerless, and he already felt powerless for a lot of reasons. So I kept asking, and he kept saying, “I don’t know.” He grew resentful of me, for reasons I found baffling. I was going through my own struggles, and he responded by pulling away more and more. He claimed to still love me, but acted like he wanted nothing to do with me. I think our relationship just made him feel even less in control, and telling me how he felt wouldn’t help that.
At the end of the day, I can’t change what another person feels. I doubt that proactively serving him would have made him feel more powerful in his own life. That kind of security and confidence has to come from within, and whatever issues were making him feel that way, only he can know and address it.
I want to say that I hope he does figure it out, and that he does become happier as a result. But it cost me dearly, both while we were together and now that we’re not. I’m not ready to be that magnanimous. I can’t wish him ill, but I have a hard time wishing him well if it doesn’t bring him back.
I know full well that I don’t want more of what our relationship had become. I want intimacy, and without a willingness on both parties to be vulnerable, intimacy is impossible. It takes genuine strength to open up to another person. Why exactly he closed himself off, I will probably never know. If anything, I just wish I could hear him say that he knows how much it hurt me.