Do you know how annoying it is listening to your friends talk about how amazing it is to cum? Having to be all ears to words of gratification, wobbly legs and temporary blindness, all caused by an orgasm?

I can tell you from personal experience that it’s hard work pretending to understand what the hell they’re all going on about. It’s not that I’d never had sex, or didn’t enjoy it when I had. God I did, I’d just never managed to actually reach that high.

I couldn’t tell you the exact point that I wanted to break the cycle of pretending to cum, so that I didn’t make the other person feel unskilled, or inadequate. It just crept up on me slowly.

To help you understand my situation I guess I should explain that I’m a control freak. I’ve always struggled to let go, inhibited by my constant worry of what people will think of me. No surprising then that this trait shows up greatest when I’m most exposed.

You can’t hide when you’re being intimate with someone. At least not if you want to fully enjoy it, or completely give yourself over to the person you’re with.

Hopefully, you’ll be happy to hear that I found a way to break my curse, or perhaps that should be I found someone who could unlock me from the constant series of failed attempts at letting go.

I’d never been with anyone like him. He was attentive and most importantly, so incredibly patient. Every other man had rushed right in and I’d felt pressured into responding quickly to their touch.

Not with him. For the longest time we just lay naked on the bed. He was on his side facing me. One arm across my stomach and a hand resting softly against my ribcage, I could feel his eyes taking in the curves of my body. I was glad for the dim lighting in the room, desperately hoping that he liked what he saw.

He leaned over and kissed my forehead, his close proximity causing my eyelids to close. He slightly increased the pressure of his hand. In the stillness of the moment I could feel the tiniest of movements.

My breathing grew heavy. One of his circling fingertips became more pronounced in its sweeping path across my milky white skin. Goosebumps sent the hairs across my body standing to attention.

I could feel his desire for me with every caress, slight squeeze of flesh, or scratch of nails. Without even realising I was letting go and giving into his exploration. Every second that passed built my pleasure. He read every twitch of my body, every audible breath, and every moan that escaped my parted lips.

I wasn’t worried about disappointing him because without words I knew that he just wanted me to revel in his touch. He even gave me time when I slipped. His stroking caress reached my lower abdomen and my insecurities broke the spell, bringing me back to my closed off place.

When I had recovered he skilfully avoided that area again and found his way to my freshly shaven, smooth mound. I was in heaven as he teased my pussy lips, pulling them wider with splayed fingers, so the coolness of the air hit my delicate inner petals.

When he finally relented in his teasing and had me close to begging to feel him inside me, he pushed his digits into my wet sex. Maintaining his composure, he began his rhythmical plunges. My body worked with his, hips rocking to an ever increasing and escalating desire.

I’d reached that point before with others and that was where it usually went wrong. I don’t know what caused it, but suddenly I snapped out of my climb.

The spell broken, shut down completely. It’s like being woken from the most fantastic dream to find you’re back in reality. The men I’d been with before had never noticed the change, or the break in my pleasure, but he did.

He came to a standstill with me. He watched and read my body. I wish I could explain why it happened, but I honestly don’t know. It’s like my brain would get to a certain point of letting go, but then suddenly hit the brakes. It’s a bit like catching a wave. Occasionally you’d be riding, but would miss the come up and have to wait for the next one.

I could catch the wave, but I could never ride it all the way to the top. No one had ever understood that before him. He saw me fall off the first wave and without any sense of annoyance he started again. His movements were small, but this time with a slight quickened pace, as I slipped easier into the comfort of his touch.

Over and over I rode it higher. He handled me with skilful dexterity. Time and time again we came up against the same block, but each time a small amount was chipped away.

It was probably him whispering in my ear that there was no rush and that I just had to relax and let go that sparked it. It was so unexpected and just came out of nowhere. I didn’t know what was happening at first. A new feeling that I’d never experienced slowly washed over me.

With his fingers plunging deeper and deeper, I did it, I lost control.

I didn’t care what I looked like, or what noises were filling the room. I worked with him, at ease. Hearing his encouragement flooded me with a new sense, which built to breaking point inside me.

Bounding higher in a frenzied pace, the feeling was incredible. My body tensed, as volts of pure orgasmic pleasure rushed every inch of my body. A single moment filled with such an incredibly indescribable feeling of ultimate joy.

I’d done it. I ridden the wave all the way and with his help I let go.