backdated: tease
SATURDAY, 23 MAY 2009
Sex. When we're taught about sex, in school, we're taught all the medically filthy things it can be, and taught about the heteronormative sexual act of penile-vaginal intercourse as if it's the be-all end-all of sexual expression. And I keep hearing this idea like it's so freakin' important. Like the money shot.
"You don't touch me, you don't let me touch you", he says, and why? Because my hands didn't stray below the belt. Making out, hard, against a wall, my hands on his throat, that is sex for me, that is more intimate and special than fingers in my cunt. But how like a man to expect that because genitals weren't involved it wasn't sex enough (apologies to G and Syph and other men in the world for whom I know this isn't the case, but it seems a common misconception).
And to expect that if you're turned on you MUST have release or it's all pointless. Or that if you're turned on it's MY responsibility to get you off, without you saying or doing anything to ask for what you want. You know what that is? Work. Except without pay.
Guess what? I'm going to blow you all away. One moment.
Anything we do sexually, I will very likely wank about later that day. Whether I have an orgasm or not, then, matters a bit less, or what sort of orgasm, or how intense, because guess what? I have my Hitachi. I don't need you to get me off to enjoy the play we do together.
Wait, let me make sure y'all got that:
****I don't need you to get me off to enjoy the play we do together.****
Granted, with that said, I do want to get off sometimes... but it's not "sex" that will do that for me, really. There's more to sex than sex, I say.
Having a penis or a hand in my cunt isn't overly sexual for me, anymore. Neither is someones tongue against my clit. These things are mundane, boring intimacies offered up at an hourly rate. That's just an act, devoid of sensuality unless the person doing it and I have a chemistry. What makes it a turn on is the little intimacies around it- the hand on my throat, the reddened ass, the squirting, the welts on his skin or the bruises on mine. The things that are special to my lovers, things only for them.
You know what's crazy? Often my clients don't care about ejaculating. And those who do prefer a hand job to anything else. In a way that excites me, because it suggests an understanding that other ways of getting off are just as good, and you don't have to stick things with your genitalia because it's there. Being in the queer scene, too, has taught me from very early that sex is a lot more about intention than it is about squidgy bits.
This rant comes about as I spent last night at this party called Walpurgis Night, done by the Last Tuesday Society. It was amazing, loads of lovely dressed up folks, fantastic music that worked me up and got me going, little projects to do that kept my mind active and perky and just a milieu that was really playful and exciting. I had an amazing time, it was a great night out with E really. It felt like I had arrived. It was the sort of place I always wished I went to growing up, and now I'm there and it feels amazing. Going to a similar feeling event tonight- steampunkishly delicious White Mischief, which I'm very excited about and planned my flight around so I could go!
Anyway, about last night, I just got caught up in the energy and got, well, feisty. It helps that I had recent playtime with G and I still bear the bruises from as-yet-unnamed boy (who I think will have to be the new, improved TB for multiple reasons, so there you go). I also had a lovely goodbye session with my favourite client, which was nice and chill, so when I went out I had a good energy base to feel playful and sexy.
Thing is, while I'm perfectly happy to go out, make out, do a little impromptu breath play and go home to snuggle in that energy, E felt like I was being a tease. I hate feeling like I have to not only put out but initiate that when I just want to fool around. When we were teens, fooling around was good enough for months, even years. What happened to that fascination with sensation and tantalizing yourself? When did that become not enough? In the world of safer sex, I've learned to eroticize a lot of things that don't involve fluid exchange. Is that rare?
It suggests a problem with sexuality in general and people's expectations from it. And actually, one main person I should thank for that different understanding is Syph, since our play was erotic in a different way from that, in a more intriguing way, and in a way I hadn't done before. So thanks for introducing me to that idea again. :)
I don't know. It reminds me of the button I saw- "I'm not a tease- teases make promises they don't keep. I'm a flirt- I make no promises at all!" That pretty much sums it up. I love flirting, and the people I can flirt with safely without pressure for it to be more are the people I end up pouncing for play, because I feel like I can be comfortable. Maybe that's unfair, but hey, I'm still learning the weirdness of boundaries when you play for pay too.
Sex. When we're taught about sex, in school, we're taught all the medically filthy things it can be, and taught about the heteronormative sexual act of penile-vaginal intercourse as if it's the be-all end-all of sexual expression. And I keep hearing this idea like it's so freakin' important. Like the money shot.
"You don't touch me, you don't let me touch you", he says, and why? Because my hands didn't stray below the belt. Making out, hard, against a wall, my hands on his throat, that is sex for me, that is more intimate and special than fingers in my cunt. But how like a man to expect that because genitals weren't involved it wasn't sex enough (apologies to G and Syph and other men in the world for whom I know this isn't the case, but it seems a common misconception).
And to expect that if you're turned on you MUST have release or it's all pointless. Or that if you're turned on it's MY responsibility to get you off, without you saying or doing anything to ask for what you want. You know what that is? Work. Except without pay.
Guess what? I'm going to blow you all away. One moment.
Anything we do sexually, I will very likely wank about later that day. Whether I have an orgasm or not, then, matters a bit less, or what sort of orgasm, or how intense, because guess what? I have my Hitachi. I don't need you to get me off to enjoy the play we do together.
Wait, let me make sure y'all got that:
****I don't need you to get me off to enjoy the play we do together.****
Granted, with that said, I do want to get off sometimes... but it's not "sex" that will do that for me, really. There's more to sex than sex, I say.
Having a penis or a hand in my cunt isn't overly sexual for me, anymore. Neither is someones tongue against my clit. These things are mundane, boring intimacies offered up at an hourly rate. That's just an act, devoid of sensuality unless the person doing it and I have a chemistry. What makes it a turn on is the little intimacies around it- the hand on my throat, the reddened ass, the squirting, the welts on his skin or the bruises on mine. The things that are special to my lovers, things only for them.
You know what's crazy? Often my clients don't care about ejaculating. And those who do prefer a hand job to anything else. In a way that excites me, because it suggests an understanding that other ways of getting off are just as good, and you don't have to stick things with your genitalia because it's there. Being in the queer scene, too, has taught me from very early that sex is a lot more about intention than it is about squidgy bits.
This rant comes about as I spent last night at this party called Walpurgis Night, done by the Last Tuesday Society. It was amazing, loads of lovely dressed up folks, fantastic music that worked me up and got me going, little projects to do that kept my mind active and perky and just a milieu that was really playful and exciting. I had an amazing time, it was a great night out with E really. It felt like I had arrived. It was the sort of place I always wished I went to growing up, and now I'm there and it feels amazing. Going to a similar feeling event tonight- steampunkishly delicious White Mischief, which I'm very excited about and planned my flight around so I could go!
Anyway, about last night, I just got caught up in the energy and got, well, feisty. It helps that I had recent playtime with G and I still bear the bruises from as-yet-unnamed boy (who I think will have to be the new, improved TB for multiple reasons, so there you go). I also had a lovely goodbye session with my favourite client, which was nice and chill, so when I went out I had a good energy base to feel playful and sexy.
Thing is, while I'm perfectly happy to go out, make out, do a little impromptu breath play and go home to snuggle in that energy, E felt like I was being a tease. I hate feeling like I have to not only put out but initiate that when I just want to fool around. When we were teens, fooling around was good enough for months, even years. What happened to that fascination with sensation and tantalizing yourself? When did that become not enough? In the world of safer sex, I've learned to eroticize a lot of things that don't involve fluid exchange. Is that rare?
It suggests a problem with sexuality in general and people's expectations from it. And actually, one main person I should thank for that different understanding is Syph, since our play was erotic in a different way from that, in a more intriguing way, and in a way I hadn't done before. So thanks for introducing me to that idea again. :)
I don't know. It reminds me of the button I saw- "I'm not a tease- teases make promises they don't keep. I'm a flirt- I make no promises at all!" That pretty much sums it up. I love flirting, and the people I can flirt with safely without pressure for it to be more are the people I end up pouncing for play, because I feel like I can be comfortable. Maybe that's unfair, but hey, I'm still learning the weirdness of boundaries when you play for pay too.