Fucking Solid Relationship Tips

True Intimacy is Kind of Gross

 

After one failed marriage and few purely sexual relationships that I thought I wanted to become more, I finally found a man who gets me, who makes my eyes roll back in my head with one orgasm, and who has earned my trust. Sounds like a fairy tale, doesn’t it? It’s the thing that most of us dream of and look for, right?

Now add in a mutual love of kink, a BDSM lifestyle, and constant communication - we tell each other everything, even the things we don’t want to admit - and from the outside looking in, it’s a recipe for total intimacy and bliss.

I thought so, too. I figured I was in the perfect relationship, that while we would grow together as a couple, we were as intimate as two people could be. We’d stood by each other through stress with kids, deaths in the family, surgery, and cancer scares.

 

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We’ve got this. We’re good. We’re tight. Our relationship is solid.

It wasn’t until the day we talked about our bowel movements, after I’d clipped one of his toenails, that I realized - up until that moment - I didn’t have the first clue about true intimacy.

 

Fucking, Loving, and Talking Only Get You So Far

When I was married, I would have sworn I was as intimate as two people could be with my ex. I knew his social security number. I knew his fears. I certainly knew all of his bad habits. He knew the same about me. We even finished each other’s sentences in those first few years of marital bliss.

Whether you’re married, living together, or pretending to keep it casual but pining for something more, how well and much you fuck, the depth of your love, and your ability to communicate only gets you so far. If you want to be happy and truly intimate with your partner, you need to be real about the most basic parts of your life - like poop.

I was married for nine years, and in that time, I did my absolute best to make it seem like I didn’t poop. I also didn’t fart, burp, have hair growing in strange places, or bad breath. Everything I did to take care of my body was kept private. No boys (or anyone else) allowed.

Do I think my inability to let him hear me poop brought about the end of our marriage? Of course not. But we lacked true intimacy. There was always a distance between us, and those small (but kind of gross) things were a symptom of the problem, and over the years, it was a distance we couldn’t (or wouldn’t bridge).

 

When Pee Brings You Closer Together

Fast forward several years, and here I am - a kinky submissive with a Dominant, living my BDSM dreams (which isn’t nearly as erotic as fiction would have you believe). For the first few months after we moved in together, I fell back into old habits.

I only pooped after he went to work which meant weekends were usually pretty miserable.
I clenched my ass cheeks together to hold back every fart. Okay, I admit it, I still do this one.
I didn’t pluck a stray hair, put on a face mask, or even blow my nose if I thought he was around.

Nope, those things were “private” and he didn’t need to know I did things that, you know, every human being on the planet does.

And then one day, I was peeing with the bathroom door only partly closed, and he walked in. I screamed. He jumped (because I screamed not because he was bothered at the sight of me on the toilet). I said, “Get out!”

Now, you have to understand. We’re D/s and we’re 24/7. There’s not a moment when he’s not in charge.

He crossed his arms. “No.”

My face turned red. Sweat beaded my forehead. I was mortified. Hello, I was on the toilet! I would likely fart soon, and I was pretty sure I was going to, as my oldest says ‘drop a deuce’ soon.

“I’ve seen you bent over with a plug in your ass and a dildo in your pussy. Do you really think I care if you’re going to the bathroom?”

 

Perspective is everything.

Think about it. If this is a person who has seen you squirt ejaculate out of your body or has bent you over to stuff toys in every orifice possible or been up close and personal with your entire vulva, how can what you do in the bathroom ever be a problem? It was a turning point.

 

Things Aren’t Always as Gross as We Believe

I can’t speak for every woman out there (nor would I want to try) but some things I do feel weird or gross or (based on every magazine cover I’ve ever seen) don’t happen to “normal” women. Over the years, I’ve hidden a lot of my grooming habits and bodily functions as a result. I have no doubt there are men with similar hang-ups but it seems to happen most often with women because we’re shown what a “perfect” body looks like and when we can’t match it, we hide it instead.

So yes, I used to wait until I was completely alone to pluck a chin hair (or five or fifteen). I cried when he teased me about farting in my sleep. Popping a zit in front of him or letting him see a breakout on my back was unthinkable.

Now, here’s the irony. When he asked me to clip his toenails when his back was bothering him (making it difficult to bend over) I didn’t hesitate. The day he asked, “What’s this thing on my back?” and pointed to a red, angry blotch, I didn’t freak out or hesitate. And, as the mother of two boys, I’ve learned that farting is almost always a reason to laugh.

It didn’t happen overnight, and it didn’t come with a big proclamation, but the things that have brought us together are the “gross” things that really aren’t that gross.

We know when the other is pooping - and to avoid the bathroom for a while.
We know how often one of us pooped in a given day.
I pluck every damn hair that’s not supposed to be on my face while sharing the mirror with him.
I farted in bed the other night and then giggled.
I now point out my own zit and say, “Would you look at this thing? Isn’t it huge?!”

 

What’s my point?

No matter how much we communicate about our life, our dreams, our goals, and our thoughts, no matter how compatible we are in bed and in life, and certainly no matter how kinky we can be together, we weren’t truly intimate with one another until we stopped worrying the other will find out that we actually do poop.

True intimacy, the kind that builds a happy, lasting relationship isn’t about how good the sex or the conversation is. It’s about the gross stuff that, for whatever reason, many of us try to pretend we don’t do.

I guess I’m saying that if you’re fucking like crazy, you’re living together, or you think you’re madly in love, taking it to the next level isn’t what you think it is. When you can poop with him brushing his teeth right next to you, you’ll know you’ve reached a whole new level of intimacy in your relationship.

Kayla Lords is a freelance writer, sex blogger, and a masochistic babygirl living the 24/7 D/s life. Follow her on her website or on Twitter @Kaylalords.


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