Ozonḓu Chronicles: Sex gets better when you stop performing

There comes a point, at least for me, where getting older means becoming less willing to fake anything in bed. Especially pleasure.

I hate fake moaning. Hate it.

Maybe when we were younger, some of us performed sex instead of experiencing it. We thought good sex meant sounding like a movie scene. Arching our backs on cue. Pretending every touch was electric. Protecting men’s egos instead of protecting our own pleasure.

But now? I cannot imagine lying through an entire sexual experience just to make somebody feel accomplished.

Sex got better for me the moment I realised it’s okay to speak.

Actually, not even "okay". Necessary.

We need more conversations during sex. Real ones. Honest ones.

“What do you like?”

“Do you want it softer?”

“Right there.”

“Don’t stop.”

“Not that.”

“A little slower.”

“Use your hands….”

Because how are we sharing bodies but refusing to communicate?

And it should go both ways.

Tell me what brings you pleasure. Do you like teasing? Pressure? Eye contact? What makes you feel desired? What makes you feel safe enough to let go?

And for the love of… foreplay happens way before the bedroom. It’s in all the ways you treat me. Are we sexting in the day? Did you send me flowers? How are you helping me feel soft and feminine?

But also, explore me too.

Do I like neck kisses? Back kisses? Softness? Intensity? Do I want tenderness or hunger? When you touch me, are you paying attention to my body or are you replaying techniques you think women are supposed to enjoy?

A lot of people are having performative sex instead of connected sex.

People are acting. Following scripts. Trying to look sexy instead of actually feeling pleasure.

And honestly? Some sex is just bad. So bad you think this could have just been a session with porn hub or lit erotica (something I recently discovered) and my favourite toy.

Sometimes a woman saying “right there” is not a suggestion. It is a plea. Do not suddenly switch rhythm because your ego told you you’ve discovered a magic trick. Stay there. Stay consistent. Listen.

I think maturity is becoming comfortable enough to say:

“That didn’t feel good.”

“I don’t like that.”

“That was amazing.”

“I want more of that.”

Without shame.

Without pretending.

Without sparing feelings at the expense of your own body.

Because the best sex I’ve ever experienced was never the most performative.

It was the most honest.