I Find Dirty Talk Distracting
The use of explicit word imagery is meant to heighten sexual excitement but it just makes me anxious
I have a confession. I don’t like dirty talk. I feel like I am extremely liberal in the bedroom, but talking has been the one thing I have never understood.
Dirty talk is known by a couple of different names: love talk, erotic talk, sexy talk, gross talk, talking dirty, or talking gross. It is the practice of using explicit word imagery to heighten sexual excitement before and during physical sexual activity.
The internet is full of suggestions on what to say but I personally find it distracting. It moves all my concentration from a place of pleasure into over-thinking about the right thing to say. The right way to say it. Did I sound sexy enough? Did I sound convincing? Should I do a sultry whisper or copy a porno? Questions cloud my mind and suddenly I’m not as horny anymore. I’m anxious. Maybe it is because I don’t take myself seriously? Maybe it is because my love language is acts of service? But it has just never felt right.
I understand why some people do it — just reading the piece I linked above has slightly turned me on as I write this but when it’s put into practice, I find it… weird. It’s just not a preference.
Surely if you’re fucking me hard enough neither of us should be able to speak? We should drown in ecstasy and sweat, not having a mid-coitus conversation?
I remember the first time I had sex with my regular FWB (friend-with-benefit), Oliver. He had one of those designer penises that there long as they were thick and slightly bent so it could hit all the right places. It takes a special someone for me to come from just penetration, but with him it was semi-automatic. He didn’t have to do much before I was dripping wet and close to coming. The great thing about him was he could last a while. Go quick and slow and the sex would happen repeatedly (at a minimum 3 times with anal being one of them). By all accounts, he was the perfect sexual partner.
We had crazy sexual energy from the get-go so it didn’t take much for him to save me naked in his bedroom. Doggy is my favourite position, so he had one hand pulling my hair back while driving himself into me full force. The other was gripped firmly onto my hip. With every completed stroke, I could see stars. It hadn’t been long but I could feel myself getting closer to orgasm until I heard, “Who’s your daddy?”
Huh?
“I said, who’s your daddy?” He said tugging harder on my hair pushing himself in me with more force. Though I had been sexually active for a couple of years, this was something I’d never come across — apart from in American sit-coms and pornos. So I answered back, “You are?” As convincingly as possible though in retrospect I imagine it came out more like a question. From that point onwards he continued this call and response. The burgeoning spark that was beginning to glow in me was extinguished.
We had sex a few more times before I said anything. I didn’t want to ruin his pleasure with my insecurities and I was hopeful it was something I could get used to. But it wasn’t. I enjoyed having sex with him, so after a few weeks; I broke the news.
It was a little embarrassing at first, but he understood how asking me stuff during sex made me anxious. Ever since then I have tried it a couple of times but I guess I have accepted defeat with this one.
Dirty talk just really isn’t for me! It’s not off the table completely though. Maybe it’s just a matter of getting outside of my head. But for now, it’s shelved until further notice.
I am a sex-blogger and editor of the publication — Tinder[ella] Chronicles! A home for all my sexy content! You can expect to find my sex tips, erotica, embarrassing stories and more!