[Most Recent Entries]
Below are the 9 most recent journal entries recorded in
|Sunday, May 28th, 2006|
On the one hand, my health is improving and I see a light at the
end of that tunnel. On the other hand, my older lover is steadily
drinking herself to, well, if not to death than at least into a bunch
of problems, and as far as I can tell my younger lover just dumped me
via Livejournal. I feel a bit stressed and fragile. But it does make
last week's crisis, not being able to find the pencil sharpener for my
eyeliner, seem a lot smaller.
|Friday, December 2nd, 2005|
|Number of sexual partners?
A Reuters story I've seen links to said that artistic creativity is
linked to "more active sex lives". I'm not surprised, especially since
the article said that the reputation was already there and the part that
was news was just that someone had finally backed it up with data. But
one bit struck me funny. They said, "They found that professional artists
and poets had between 4 and 10 sexual partners, while less creative people
had an average of three." Assuming they don't mean _at the same time_,
three sounds low to me. At least in today's world. Am I just surrounded
by artistic types, or does that number sound low to anyone else?
|Friday, September 2nd, 2005|
Hmm. I'd meant to write in this journal much more often. I'm afraid I'm in the middle of a lull in my sex drive, but I see signs of the next shift in that on the horizon, so maybe I'll have more to write about here soon.
At the moment I'm trying to decide whether to surprise one of my lovers the next time I see her by wearing something related to a kink that she's made comments about. From her comments I'm not sure whether it's something that turns her on that she's not sure whether to come out and suggest, something she's just curious about because she was recently exposed to the idea, something she only brings up to find out whether I'm interested, or what. It's a low-risk gamble because her comments have not been negative. So the major potential pitfal is just a little embarrassment for me I guess. And if it's something she's been secretly hoping I'd do then maybe her reaction will help kick-start my libido. So I guess I should go ahead.
In the meantime I'll mention that I wish erotica were proofread. Homophones are distracting. "Beat red" would make sense but be awkward if describing the result of a spanking, and it is something to cringe at when used to describe a flush of embarrassment. Over and over.
|Sunday, November 14th, 2004|
I just stumbled across a LiveJournal containing photos
of two young women having sex. I noticed that one of the
women has thighs that appear to be about the same size as
her waist. (*Each* thigh.) And she doesn't have particularly
large thighs. And she's not wearing a corset.
My immediate reaction was to worry whether she gets
enough to eat. Before the "Oh! Free porn!" reaction.
Is that odd?
|Saturday, October 30th, 2004|
Does anyone else have a problem when reading BDSM erotica
with fantastic high-tech elements, that when the author violates
the laws of physics it drags you right out of the headspace to
exclaim something like, "Hey, conservation of mass, you dope!"?
|Saturday, July 31st, 2004|
|Are you kinky?
It's interesting to look at the difference between what "kinky people" and "not-kinky people" think of as "kinky". A little bit of playful tickling? Probably not kinky. Tickling as a turn-on, or as foreplay? It depends on who you ask. Someone who recognizes themself as having a "tickling fetish" would probably say yes, as would a BDSM-er looking at it as power exchange and/or sensation-play. But most vanillas don't think of tickling as "kinky" unless a kinky person points it out to them. Using a blindfold to heighten other senses, or to make the blindfolded person feel "helpless" compared to the sighted one? Likewise, I'd bet.
Or perhaps "kinky" is the wrong word to describe these acts, and I should simply say "kink". Because I think kinky people recognize the kink aspect in these things, but tend not to think of something so "tame" as being kinky
. Whereas vanillas -- at least the ones who don't hang out with kinky friends -- overlook the kink aspect entirely. It's fun to watch their faces when they get the "kinky people see the kink in this thing you do, you vanilla-identified person you" clue.
I've had vanilla lovers and kinky lovers. And I've had lovers who started out saying they were completely vanilla but decided to experiment. (And I don't mean "learned to like it". I mean "discovered things they hadn't known they'd liked." Though come to think of it, really I've seen both.) And I've had vanilla lovers whose tastes didn't change at all, but whose self-image did, from "I'm completely vanilla" to "I'm a little bit kinky but only in certain ways and just a little". The ones I'm really thinking about here are the ones who either admitted at the start or discovered along the way that they like biting and being bitten rather hard. The one who professed no interest in power exchange but got seriously turned on when she realized my night vision meant I could tease her and she wouldn't know where I was about to touch next (and later suggested a blindfold on her own). The one who really liked to have sex in "we could get caught so easily any moment" places. The ones who have gotten off on accidentally learning how to put me into subspace, coming back to do it on purpose later, and failing to make the connection between that and what I'd described about BDSM a few days earlier.
(The ones who called themselves vanilla but eventually confessed, "well, I've had this peculiar fantasy for a long time, but nobody actually does
that except in stories, right?" are a subject for a whole other essay, or at least fond memory-inspired daydreams.)
Then again, some go to the other extreme, pronouncing some acts I think of as vanilla to be kinky in their eyes. Cunnilingus. Anal stimulation. Vibrators.
I suppose one common definition of kinky is "exotic", which makes it easy to dismiss "everybody does that" or "I've done that so many times it no longer seems strange to me" as being "not kinky". I think of "kinky" as including anything with power exchange in it, anything that uses sensations that are not typically *directly* pleasurable as a source of pleasure (tickling, pain), most activities that involves a strong element of fantasy, and, well, most sex that's creative or imaginitive. Not that vanilla is boring, mind you, just that it's, well, ordinary
-- that's what vanilla means. Ordinary can be good. (Good. Very good. Oops, daydreaming again.) I've had at least my share of very good vanilla sex, enough that I can understand the people with no desire or inclination to go beyond it, and I can't say that I've gotten tired of it, or that I ever expect to. But once we venture into the areas that get the wheels in my mind turning, thinking, "oh, a new game, where can we go with this?" to me that's one edge of kink.
Then again, "kink" and "kinky" are value-neutral terms to me. Kink is not "better", not "depraved", not "what those OTHER people do", a little tittillating I guess, but mostly just interesting. I have no self-image tied up in viewing myself (or presenting myself to others) as "normal" or "not kinky", and really I have no emotional stake in being "different" because of being kinky -- if "everybody else" did what I do, I wouldn't feel any need to start doing something else instead (in fact, based on the third paragraph of this entry, I think far more people do what I do than talk about it). So I have no vested interest in trying
to see any particular act as being "not kinky". I don't think I have a vested interest in calling as many things as possible "kinky" either, but now that I've asked myself the question, I'll have to go off and think about that.
|Thursday, July 29th, 2004|
The inexperienced partner I mentioned in my previous entry has got me thinking about inexperience, insecurity, and learning what we're doing. She's aware that she's not sure what to do, and seeks reassurance. And that makes sense to me (especially when I think back on when I was in her shoes). But I think she wants me to give her, well, pointers of a how-to sort -- technique -- and that made me realize that while I could tell her what *I* like, and what a lot of other people (and therefore some reasonable percentage of her future partners) like, I cannot say, "This is the way to kiss, this is the way to touch, this is the way to ____", because people vary so greatly. Lick one person's ear and they're squicked; lick another and it's hot if your tongue is mostly try and you only use the tip, but a turn-off if it's wet and sloppy; a third will get gushy and giggly at a sloppy, silly ear-lick, and a fourth will react in completely different ways depending on her mood. So while I could have told her what I like myself, that seemed a rather selfish way to advise her. And it seemed to ignore a larger lesson.
You see, we're all
beginners, sort of, when we meet a new partner. As we get older and more experienced, we approach new partners with greater self-confidence, and more of the meta-skills
that helps us to learn that person more quickly, but we still start with, "What does she like? How does she like to be kissed?" And we explore and experiment. We're sometimes surprised when "that technique I thought everybody liked" turns out to be all wrong with the new lover. We accomodate minor tweaks to our technique quickly enough that we may not notice how much we're adjusting. And we take cues from how our new lover does various things.
There are, I suppose, people so set in their ways or so self-confident that they think they've learned all the secrets. Clueless to subtle feedback, or just lucky enough to find partners who do happen to like exactly what they do (or are so unprepared to offer an opinion that they'll take whatever they get), they can be blissfully removed from any insecurity or learning curve. I'll deal witht that time when I'm aware that I'm still figuring things out, because I hope it'll make me a better lover for this new person I want to please.
So the answer I chose to give my partner was that we're all still figuring it out when we meet someone new, but that it does stop being quite so scary as we gain confidence in our ability TO figure it out. I hope I also managed to help her learn some of the clues to use while learning a new lover. I certainly noticed how much I had to learn about her. A fascinating education for me, but then it always is. And I've still got plenty to learn the next time she comes to town.
|Sunday, July 25th, 2004|
Last night I may have done something ... less than perfectly kind. I'm not sure whether I made the right choice or not. I was with a young woman who is
completely inexperienced. She's had a crush on me for a while, and I do find her attractive and care for her a great deal. She is interested in becoming less inexperienced, but is also clearly a little scared of things moving too quickly. She was nervous about inviting me in, for fear that things might go further than she was ready for. I too am afraid of moving too quickly for her. We cuddled and talked for a while, enjoying the simple pleasures of holding and being held, and we kissed a little. As she became aroused, her boundaries kept moving (as you might expect), but I thought it best to honor the boundaries set before I came in, lest she later regret having gone further than she meant to. I believe that if I had wanted to, I could have taken her as far as I wanted, bit by bit, as arousal erased each successive limit. But I wanted to be careful, I wanted those decisions to be clear in her mind, I feared hurting her motionally, I feared giving her more than she was ready for, and I worried about her building up our relationship too quickly in her head. I am attracted to her, and I've carried strong affection for her for some time, but I am not (yet?) in love with her, and her inexperience in physical love is matched by her inexperience in romance. I enjoy her company, every instinct cries out to give her pleasure and show her how glorious sensation can be, and my skin sang at her touch, but I fear breaking her heart, as well as simply moving too quickly.
Neither of us really wanted to let go when I said I should probably not spend the entire night. Especially after I had touched her lightly behind the knee and discovered that was enough to make her so excited that I could smell her arousal on her breath. Oh, how I wanted to show her how much better than that it can be, if I'd dared to suck her fingertips or nibble her neck, even without removing her clothing and progressing from appetizer to main course. I wanted to educate her, I wanted to please her, and ... I also wanted to feed my own ego with her orgasm. And that last bit rightened me a bit on top of the fears I've already mentioned.
So I did manage to pull myself away eventually, without going any further, bid a very tender farewell, and head home to my own bed. And doubts remain in my head in all directions. Was it cruel to stop where I did? Am I being overcautious? Is my fear of her inexperience leading me to be ... patronizing regarding "what I think is best for her"? Was it a good thing I left when I did, before temptation could lead us further than she was ready for -- or at least further than I'd said things would go when she was trying to decide whether to invite me in? Have I already let my own selfish desires take us further than I should have allowed?
Being a hedonist would be so much easier if I were not also such a worrywart. But so would being an opportunistic jerk. I am dreadfully confused.
There are things I'd like to be able to talk about, but cannot do so under my own name, for the sake of the privacy of others. So I'll try to be very careful here. As the anonymitiy is not for my own sake, I politely request
(I know I cannot demand it) that you not try too hard to figure me out.