There was a time in my life when I prayed for my period. I was the last of my friends to get it and I was tired of lying about it. As far as they were concerned, I got mine the summer between sixth and seventh grade with the rest of them. I was almost fourteen before it happened though. And realistically it was maybe three spots of blood at best, but I was finally a woman. My dad high-fived me and took me out for ice cream to celebrate. It was the happiest day of my life. Well, other than the night I had my first orgasm in the backseat of my boyfriends 69 Camaro while parked on the bank of Jackson Lake. I clearly remember 96 Rock playing John Cougar’s Ain’t Even Done With the Night on the radio… My point is that the onset of my period was a joyous occasion. But that was the first and last time I was happy to get my period, not counting that one time I was worried I might have been with child. Okay, so maybe it was more than one time. Oh, shut the fuck up.
I never really viewed my period as my enemy though. It was merely a messy inconvenience that ruled my sex life. I didn’t suffer from PMS or cramping, but I didn’t feel sexy either. When my breasts grew fuller and my clit became even more sensitive every month, I felt flawed because I’d never been made to see the beauty in it.
Then I met a man who was smart, gorgeous, and very kinky. He found me at the peak of my dating frustration. He understood that I was tired of the players and the wanna-be’s who fell short of fulfilling the cerebral connection I craved. He appealed to all of my senses and I wanted him. Lots of him to be exact. And when the day arrived that we would spend our first weekend together, so did my period. I was devastated. I fell to my knees in a very dramatic fashion screaming “why?” Not really, but I was pissed. So pissed that I cursed Mother Nature, my parents, and the boy who’d cut the hair on my Cher doll when I was eight.
There was nothing I could do about it though, and I had to tell him. I just knew he was going to tell me it wasn’t a big deal, that we’d reschedule our rendezvous for a more suitable weekend. When I was finally confident that I wouldn’t burst into tears as soon as I opened my mouth, I broke the news to him over the phone. His reaction left me speechless.
“It’s a part of you.”
He made it clear that such a small blip on the screen of biology couldn’t keep him from doing very naughty things to my body. I was stunned. I didn’t understand how he could be so willing to explore every inch of my body in my “condition.” He emailed me an article listing the benefits of having sex during menstruation. The article said that orgasms are supposed to be more intense and my cycle could even be shortened. Where is the downside to that?
Period sex was a first for both of us, and until I saw the smile on his lips as I lay naked before him with a towel underneath me, I was worried he would change his mind. He assured me again that everything would be okay. But it was better than okay. It was amazing. I didn’t worry that we were turning the hotel room into a crime scene. I was too busy having orgasms and marvelling at what an incredible man he was. My period did detour an activity or two, but the weekend was still very intimate, and orgasmic, and holy fuck was it fun.
Isn’t it funny how we wanted something so badly when we were kids so we’d fit in with all the other girls. Then once you get it, you don’t really want it that badly after all. We learn to cope and make the best of it, like you did, but it’s still a pain in the cooch.
I remember sitting in my doctor’s office the day she told me I needed a hysterectomy for fibroid tumors and bursting into tears. It wasn’t that I wanted another kid and I was losing that ability, I just felt like I’d be less of a woman at a rather young age, if that makes sense. So I’d suddenly come full circle. I haven’t missed having a period each month, but I have missed having a plentiful supply of my own natural hormones. The journey through forced menopause is no picnic.
That makes perfect sense Jenny and I’m so sorry you’ve had to go through it. Out of my friends, there are only two of us who haven’t had the need for a hysterectomy. I know it’s a long journey. Full circle can sometimes be a real bitch.
I’ve only masturbated during my period and have known how awesome that is. I’ve *always* wanted to have sex while on my period, and it’s so nice to hear that there are plenty of guys who aren’t grossed out by the idea. Actually, it’s more, “Thank fuck” because I don’t think I could be with a guy who got all “Ewww no bye”.
I was shocked and pleasantly surprised. It’s truly amazing when a person appreciates EVERYTHING about you.
It does not bother me in the least. My experience mimics yours – it was more an issue to her than me. I know sex often will jump start Leigh’s, as well as done as it starts will expedite how long Aunt Flo visits.
And oh yes, there are LOTS of fun, kinky things that can be done when a detour is encountered!
The same thing has happened to me. In the middle of *ahem*, there it is! But the beautiful thing is, it doesn’t matter.
We’ve heard of guys getting red wings but girls getting red beard, anyone? I went down on my ex girlfriend and didn’t notice she’d come on half way through, now, as disgusting as it sounds, working clit and fingering meant I hadnt a face full of jam, no vile slightly iron taste or look like a vampire at breakfast, but she came so hard, it was well worth it. I guess being a girl with a girl kinda helps all that awkwardness and you realise, there was no harm done.
[...] about the state of my vagina during my period. He earned his red wings over a year ago during our first weekend together and he continues to amaze me with how much he loves everything about my body. And now, thanks to [...]