Temperature's Rising

I don’t know that I’d describe myself as ‘tactile’ but I am most definitely sensate.  Weight, texture, temperature, moisture, pressure…  I am highly attuned to the sensations I experience against my skin; I feel the world around me.

Erotically, this heightened sensitivity can be a challenge.  Too soft a stroke of his fingertips is too ticklish, too much pressure against my clit either sends my nerves screaming or deadens them entirely.  On a good day, the ripple-patterned texture of an vibrating insertable may coax my insides to ebb and flow in hot-wet pulses, cunt walls conforming to ride in increasingly-aroused waves over its ridges.  On a not-so-good day, the cool smooth raised-rounds of sleek glass can cut like shards.

Admittedly, the fact that I am so sensitive sometimes has its drawbacks.

But I have to say that it also has its pluses.

I think my partner{s} definitely benefit from my hyper-reactivity to the physical sensations that assail me.  Because not only does it mean that when they’re doing something that works, they know they’re doing something that works (and therefore do it more / better / more-better ~ win/win!), but also because I take into consideration my own sensitivities when considering how a{ny} (new) sensation will affect them.

It means that when I tie him, the choice of material is important:  I want him to feel the restrictions of my bindings without the distraction or inadvertent irritation of individual fibers; I want him to psychologically experience the multiplicity of wrapped layers while physically perceiving pressure without weight.  So I use uncored paracord instead of fibrous jute.

It means that once he’s tied – seated, exposed, waiting – I massage the lube between my hands to warm it before gliding my fingers over his erection.  And that when my glistening hands do wrap around his hard, it is not in a round-fist-pump up-down masturbatory slide, but rather, it is with lotion-application opposite-direction wrist-to-palm rotations.  A kneading tease, a firm-soft foretaste of what’s to come.  A pleasureful manipulation of flesh.

It means I am careful in the application of pressure when, next, I fit the soft-rippled insides of our new masturbation sleeve over the tip of his cock,.  That I am methodic in my administration of speed, consciously varied in the force of my grip.  That my movements, as well as the masturbator, will fit (the cravings of) his cock like a glove.

My own sensate sensitivities may not allow me to know exactly what his body is feeling when I play with him like this, but my hyper-attunement to my own responses helps me to gauge his.

And based on his reactions, whatever he’s feeling —

the massage-twist gliding stroke of my hand movements over the sleeve, the slow-yielding soft-cushioned folds engulfing his flesh; the wetness, the texture, the pressure, the heat

— I know, without a doubt…

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