I recently had sex with my ex. We had dated and lived together, then had a messy break-up. While together we had great sex, it was the first bring me out of my shell, slap my ass, tie me up, fuck me hard sex.

Within a year of breaking up I had a weak moment, and we had sex, it was scary. He mean-fucked me, making me feel like some sort of object that needed to be punished for some sort of wrong doing (he always blamed the break-up on me). I didn’t know what to do in the middle of it, it didn’t feel good, I wasn’t getting off, our safeword wasn’t working, I just couldn’t wait for it to be done. Once it was I was bummed, we’d been so amazing before, what happened? Why did the break-up cause such a BIG difference in our sexual escapades? I had no answers, and really I didn’t care to think about it anymore.

Fast forward two more years (present day) and I found myself again with my ex in my bedroom, on my bed, beckoning me to join him, forgetting my previous bad experience I complied.

He ordered me to take of my shirt, complying, I lifted my shirt over my head…wondering what was going to happen next I was lost in my own thoughts when I was interrupted by his voice:

“Wow, those things got bigger.”

And with that I started laughing, and not just a sexy giggle, but hysterically laughing. I couldn’t stop. Who says that? His eyes looked like those of a kid in a candy store. I realized in the moment that he may have had the upperhand last time, but this time was going to be mine. Rather than physically “punish” him I was going to make him see how good I was. I was going to make him want what he couldn’t have, and I was going to feel damn good about it.