The First Time I Said Yes to Me

The First Time I Said Yes to Me

I had been thinking about it for weeks.

It started as a whisper in the back of my mind. A quiet thought I kept brushing away with to-do lists and excuses. But every night, when I slipped into bed, alone and tired, that whisper returned. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t desperate. But it was patient.

And it was mine.

I was always the quiet one. The responsible one. I grew up hearing things like “good girls don’t talk about that,” and “you shouldn’t need anyone.” I learned to take care of others. To listen. To give. But when it came to my own wants, my own pleasure?

I stayed silent.

Until that one afternoon.

It was raining outside. Soft, steady drops against the window. I had just finished folding laundry when I passed the small drawer in my nightstand. I paused.

It was there. Still in its box.

I had bought it two months ago. Late at night, after one too many glasses of wine and a long scroll through an article that said something like, “Your pleasure matters.”

It arrived in a discreet brown box. I didn’t even open it right away. Just shoved it in the back of the drawer and told myself I’d get to it later.

But later never came.

Until now.

I stood there for a while, staring at that drawer like it held something dangerous. My heart was pounding. My breath shallow.

Why was I nervous? No one was home. No one would know. It was just me, in my room, on a rainy afternoon. And still—my hands shook.

I sat on the bed. Slowly opened the drawer. Pulled the box out.

It was simple. Sleek. Soft to the touch.

I ran my fingers over it, curious. Careful. Like I was meeting a new part of myself for the first time.

And then, I said it. Out loud.

“This is for me.”

I smiled. Just a little.

I pulled the curtains closed. Dimmed the lights. Lit the small vanilla candle on my dresser. I wasn’t in a rush. This wasn’t a task. It was a gift.

I slipped off my clothes, one layer at a time.

Not rushed. Not ashamed. Not hiding.

I laid back on my bed. My skin prickled against the cool sheets. I let my hands explore. My stomach. My thighs. The soft curve of my breast.

I took my time.

I let myself feel everything.

When I turned it on, the sound was softer than I expected. A low hum. Almost like a purr.

I brought it to my skin. Just my arm at first. My hip. Letting myself get used to the sensation.

And then—

Lower.

I felt a jolt. A pulse that shot straight through me. My back arched. My legs parted on instinct.

I closed my eyes.

This was what I’d been afraid of?

This was what I’d been denying myself?

I let it glide over me, finding the rhythm that made my breath catch, my thighs tighten, my moans slip out without warning. My fingers clenched the sheets.

Every time I got close, I would slow down. Not because I was afraid, but because I didn’t want it to end too soon. I was savoring it.

Savoring me.

The pressure built slowly, like a wave pulling back before the crash. My hips moved with it. I whispered things to myself I’d never dared say out loud before.

“Yes.” “That feels good.” “Don’t stop.”

And when it finally hit me, it was like nothing I’d ever felt. Not rushed. Not just physical. It was emotional. It was powerful.

I gasped. Cried out. My body shook.

Tears slipped down my cheeks and I laughed. Not from sadness. From release.

From finally, finally saying yes.

I lay there for a long time. Breathing. Smiling. My skin warm. My heart full.

And then, I whispered to the empty room,

“I deserve this.”

I said yes to me that day.

And I’d never go back.

🔥 Written by the RoleplayInBed Team – Where fantasies come to life.

The First Time I Said Yes to Me is brought to you by the creators of RolePlayInBed. See more on Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, or TikTok.

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