I felt so sick after my first round of chemotherapy that I didn’t have sex for almost a week. When I finally did have sex, I felt like I was “dialing it in.” To me, “dialing it in” means that I was doing it for the sake of doing it. I’m not one to fake it, but I definitely wasn’t performing to the best of my abilities. It was difficult to be in certain positions or give a good blow job without feeling nauseous. And, I worried that having an orgasm would be too much for me while I was recouping. (Aren’t orgasms for women like Pringles? Who can have just one?)
Through it all, Mr. Agency was incredibly understanding. I started to feel better from my first round on September 30th and decided to go forward with my plans to head to my 20th High School Reunion. Autumn and I would be driving up to Manhattan, and Mr. Agency came over to be with me before I left. (He also was heading out of town on a business trip that weekend so we wouldn’t see each other for eight days straight. That was long for us.)
In the morning, Mr. Agency began to go down on me. With each stroke of his tongue, I wondered whether chemotherapy had caused me to lose my sex drive. I worried that I wouldn’t be able cum as easily or as often because of treatment. As my mind wandered, I reminded myself of what the doctor had told me:
Sex drive is more mental than physical.
I let myself go and stopped thinking so hard. I realized that I wasn’t going to let cancer change my sex life anymore than it already had.
Me: Right there. Please don’t stop.
Mr. Agency always aimed to please. He kept his tongue on my clit, and I came. Hard.
I thought to myself, “Yes! I still got it!”
I was glowing from having gotten off, but I also felt unsure about my future with Mr. Agency. Were we on the same page