Posts Tagged sex
I have some very talented, inspiring sex-positive friends out there. This poem was written by someone who I used to be on a committee with but never actually started speaking much to until I’d moved away from where we studied together, unfortunately, but we’re making up for lost time now. I asked her to write a bit of a commentary to the poem which is below it. Enjoy!
i never thought i’d hit double numbers by twenty,
was always taught the higher your number
the lower your value.
felt safe when my body count fit on one hand
remembered those people who told me
everyone you fuck takes a little bit away from you,
wondered how long til i was left empty.
but those nights i spent with girls
against bathroom doors, in their brothers beds,
didn’t feel draining
walks of shame didn’t feel so shameful
as my number grew so did i
left behind hair grips, underwear, but not any parts of myself
took books and photographs instead,
reminders of girls i loved or liked or wanted
for a night, for a moment
reminders that i am not who i fuck,
but if i was
i’d still be incredible.
“Before I lost my virginity, I was terrified of what having sex would mean. I grew up in a Catholic family and went to a Catholic school, so a lot of emphasis was put on how important sex was and how important it was that it only happened between a married man and woman. When I was much, much younger I genuinely did think that I wouldn’t have sex before marriage, and me and my friends would sit and imagine what losing our virginities would be like- these discussions usually involved lots of declarations of love and candlelight. When I realised I was gay though, I realised that I probably wouldn’t be losing my virginity to my future husband, while I was okay with that, I was still scared that after I did have sex, I’d feel different or regret it.
“When I finally did lose my virginity, it was not at all like the fantasy scenarios me and my childhood friends had imagined. I was drunk, and she was a complete stranger. It was the opposite of how I had imagined it to be- but somehow it was a ridiculously nice experience. The next day I didn’t feel any different, I didn’t feel ashamed or embarrassed like I’d been told I would, and all the fears I’d had surrounding sex pretty much disappeared. Over time I grew much more comfortable with my sexuality, and realised that every person I slept with was a new experience that added something to my life, rather than taking something away. So that was what I was thinking of when I wrote the poem- that having lots of sex isn’t a bad thing if you don’t want it to be, and it doesn’t change anything about who you are. “
My maternal grandmother, bless her, is almost 73 though despite being an ardent Catholic and her age and hailing from a mining village in northern Europe, she’s remarkably worldly-wise and tech savvy; she owns a blackberry, which yes she does know how to use, and is on Facebook, and even has the two things set up so that any time one of her 19 grandchildren post something on Facebook, she gets a text telling her about it (I’m exaggerating slightly; there are indeed 19 of us grandchildren on that side of the family but not all of us are on Facebook). Today, though, I took the unusual step of deleting my own grandmother from my friends list on Facebook. Let me explain why.
Though her opinions on non-heterosexual, non-cis people seemed to have undergone something of a metamorphosis since mum outed me to her two years ago (hint to any parents of LGBT* people out there, don’t out your kids to the rest of the family, it’s not your story to tell and it’s hugely disrespectful). She even recently took the unusual step of trying to set me up with her friend’s gay grandson, though with a five year age difference and 500-plus kilometre distance between us that was never really going to work out now, was it? (We do talk though, and as he is now single as of yesterday we’ve established that the next time I’m home we’re probably going to hook up.) I thought, perhaps naïvely, that the “gay people can never lead a normal life” grandmother I remembered from my high school days had been replaced with a more open-minded version. I’m starting to think I was wrong.
As my flight back to my university town (I’m on the plane just now, I seem to be composing a lot of blogs late at night on large modes of transport these days) lands quite late and, as I’ve said before, the airport isn’t in my city, I’m staying at my boyfriend’s tonight, also because I haven’t seen him in 9 days and could really use a cuddle right now. Two days ago she asked me if I would be able to get back to my city so late at night; I replied that I can’t, and that I’d be staying at my boyfriends because he lives closer to the airport. She stopped talking. And today she asked me if I was still planning on “staying at your friend’s tonight?” to which I replied, that yes, I am, and that he’s my boyfriend, “I told you the other day.” “I know, I remember” (and since facebook displays for all the world to see, I’m in a relationship with him). No apology, no correcting herself, nothing of the sort. Conversation just stopped. So, I deleted her from facebook, because I’m quite annoyed, and I think I’m right to be. Deleting someone from Facebook, of course, isn’t exactly a terrible thing to do to someone, but the message that”you are not someone I want to have information about my private life” I find appropriate here.
If she doesn’t condone relationships which don’t fit her religious ideal, that’s not great but it’s vaguely understandable, yet my oldest cousin has a live-in girlfriend which doesn’t fit the Catholic ideal and she refers to her as his girlfriend even though she dislikes her intensely; my brother and his partner aren’t married, but his girlfriend is afforded the same respect of being acknowledged as being so, and their newborn baby is acknowledged as her great granddaughter. My younger cousins’ three-week long relationships get to use the title of girlfriend or boyfriend too; so why won’t she acknowledge my boyfriend as being such?
The only explanation for it I can see is that she doesn’t seem to think that a relationship between two people of the same sex is as valid as one between two people not of the same sex. I’m aware that this is a fairly common perception among people, though I doubt it makes up the majority opinion in my country any more, but I don’t associate with people I know think like that if I can at all help it. And so I’m choosing to take a step back from her as well. I don’t get on with most of my extended family and rarely see them but my gran is one of the few relatives I feel particularly close to and so knowing that she thinks of me, rightly or wrongly, as somehow being worth less than the rest of her family or the general population – since my choice of partner isn’t afforded the same respect as everyone else’s – is extremely hurtful. If she’d met my boyfriend and decided she didn’t like him at would be one thing (though as I’ve said she does call opposite-sex partners she dislikes by their proper title) but that’s not the case. I find this insulting and hurtful and I’m sorry, no. If you don’t think my private life and relationships should be afforded the same basic fucking respects you pay everyone else’s, then you can’t be privy to it or part of it.
Part of me feels like I’m being really harsh here but most of me is angry, upset and, having decided to cut out a close relative from the bulk of my private life, I also feel a bit bereaved. What do you guys think? Am I being petulant? Is my anger justified? What about my actions? Feel free to leave a comment below or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org if you want to get a dialogue going on this.
I’m having a bit of what I think is an interesting conversation with myself in my head right now and I’ve not reached any conclusion yet; so maybe this post won’t have a conclusion either but it might help me get my head in order a little bit. Yesterday I was talking to a pretty boy on grindr (I’m not using “pretty boy” as a pejorative here), who as it turned out lives a couple of hundred kilometres away; when I said it was a shame he was so far away, he wrote back that “you just want to bend me over,” which is true, I did. But it occurred to me that until that point I had no idea whether he was top, bottom, versatile, what he was into at all – I just wanted to sleep with him because he was pretty and hadn’t put any thought into what it would be like or who would be doing what to whom.
Is this the difference between a more mature and a less mature approach to sex? “How much am I going to enjoy this?” as a key thought before jumping into bed with someone rather than “Pretty. Want.”? Not that it’s exclusively the latter that I’ve always taken into consideration, but more often than not it is. That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy one-nighters, of course I do, that’s why I do them. I just wonder whether I might enjoy them a bit more if I put more thought into them beforehand. The number of people I’m sleeping with would likely drop – not that it hasn’t recently, living in this shitty city that I resent; would that necessarily be a bad thing?
Actually yes, I think it would. I’m not under any illusions, I know that most of my sexual encounters aren’t substantial and they’re not intended to be, and I’m fine with that. Just because it’s neither explorative, boundary-pushing sex nor sex intended to be built upon into something other people might view as a worthwhile relationship doesn’t mean it isn’t valid, isn’t worthwhile, isn’t fun and can’t be learned from.
Well, I think I’ve settled this debate in my own head at least (don’t you often find writing things down helps?), that was easier than expected. Any of you have any thoughts on this?
Not relevant at all but this is my 100th post on this blog!!! Thank you so much to everyone who reads it, whether you’ve been here since day one or today is your first day reading. A special thanks also to Sparkles, Purple and Lady in Red for coming up with the idea in the first place and encouraging me to start this!
When the Boyfriend and I first got together and had just discussed the ground rules and parameters of how open our relationship would be, he mentioned it to a couple and friends and relatives of his, at least two of whom expressed the same concern: that it was all well and good for me to be okay about myself sleeping with other people, but that I might feel differently about things when the Boyfriend went and did the same.
To be honest it was a concern that hadn’t occurred to me, but when he mentioned it to me I realised that it was a valid once since in most if not all of my previous relationships – granted, the last one ended in August 2011 and I’d like to think I’ve grown a great deal since then – I have been a jealous lover. So I told him that when he hooked up with someone else, if I did react badly to it, we’d sit down and talk about it and reassess what our arrangement is – fairly reasonable, no? We both thought so anyway.
He came over this weekend – I was only gone for a week, stressful ferry journey back but very good and inspiring week away – and before he did so told me he had some “weird news” for me; when he got here (with his brother who was visiting him for the weekend) I asked what that news would be and it was his brother who told me that the Boyfriend had indeed hooked up with someone else the previous night when they were out. I was a bit taken aback, because it wasn’t what I had expected to hear (there’s a bit of an odd situation involving his ex and someone else we know going on so I’d expected it to be about that but apparently we’ve moved on from there) .
We didn’t really go into the details there in the kitchen – I’m sure his brother wouldn’t have wanted to know all the gory details anyway – but I brought it up during our pillow talk that night. I asked him what had happened and how it was, which I’m not going to go into here because it’s not my story to tell; and then we spoke about how I felt about it. I can honestly say I was actually quite happy about the whole thing, which even surprised me a little bit. There were two or three main reasons for this, the main one being that I no longer had to worry about my reacting badly to it, like his friends had worried I might, since that had been in the back of my mind; it means that the relationship is more in-balance, since me sleeping with other people when he hasn’t been could have caused resentment and a sense of unfairness; and also, I think it’ll have done his self esteem very good, which makes him happier and in turn makes me happier to. When we were first discussing these things he rather self-deprecatingly said that it didn’t matter too much since he only had “a theoretical chance at casual sex anyway,” which I disagreed with, but now he knows that’s not true.
So everyone’s a winner – he got some sex while I was gone, whoever this other guy is (he doesn’t know his name) got some too, I’m happier about or relationship and the Boyfriend seems to be as well. I don’t think we could ask for a better outcome to your partner hooking up with someone else!
Obviously I’m posting this after it was drafted but I decided not to edit it other than to put links in, because seeing how my mind works while very sleep deprived is quite interesting.
I’m having the bizarre experience of writing this post while drinking a (terrible) latte on a ferry between two time zones, at either ten to one or ten to two in the morning depending on whose time zone I choose to believe I’m in. There’s no internet in the middle of the ocean, as it turns out, so when I’ll actually get to post this is anyone’s guess but I wanted to write it while it was still fairly fresh in my memory.
Because I was going away (hence being on the ferry), the Boyfriend came over for a couple of nights starting on Thursday, since both of us were off university on Friday. He got to mine quite late on Thursday night due to public transport issues/his own disorganisation (if you’re reading this, no offence but you know it as well as I do) and so we went to bed not long after he got in, had a cuddle and a chat and some oral before going to sleep.
We spent the day in each other’s company on Friday and went to the cinema in the evening to see Cloud Atlas (I highly recommend it, by the way), came home where I made him dinner and then went to bed for some fun.
I wrote before about how the Boyfriend is a switch in terms of Dominance/submission, and also that I’d never really explored that before now but had had a go at dominating him a little. This time it was his turn and being more experienced than me, he really went for it. All I can say is wow. I’m not even sure how it happened, we were in bed being silly and the next thing I knew I was on my back in my underwear with a collar round my neck and his cock in my mouth, but I got really into the role. He tied my hands behind my back, hit me with a belt, I wasn’t even “allowed” to talk and the idea of this sort of stuff has always freaked me out but it was amazing. It was mostly oral – me on him, be it on my knees on front of him or on my back with him essentially facefucking me, before he made me wank myself off/him taking over when he felt like it, slapping me every 30 seconds until I came on my stomach – one of the top five orgasms of my life, easily, not that I’m in the habit of ranking these things – followed quickly by him on my face and in my mouth. Eye contact the whole time right until the end and some very intense kissing.
Like I said, I’m not even sure how it really happened, there was something almost hypnotic about being in that submissive role. I found there was something quite satisfying and, ironically, freeing about having my focus 100% on someone else’s pleasure rather than my own, on being there for someone other than myself. Of course the idea scared me beforehand, but I think one reason I’ve never explored this sort of stuff before has been a lack of trust. Most of my sexual encounters so far in life, as you’re all very aware, have been one-offs with people I don’t really know and so it’s hard to (sanely and safely) allow yourself to be vulnerable around them, but with the Boyfriend, it’s different because I do trust him, completely.
After we both came and I was coming back to my senses he held me and cuddled me and spoke to me about it, asked what I’d liked and if there was anything I would have wanted him to do differently, additionally, or not at all, and then he got me some water and fed me chocolate. Apparently the cuddle and chat is fairly common practice in Dom/sub relationships to avoid something called “sub drop”, which is a new concept to me but it makes sense. It’s apparently a sort of post-coital depression experienced by submissives, I’m not sure the exact reasoning behind it happening (and no internet to find out though when I do get access to it I plan to do an awful lot of reading on this because it’s quite interesting, I think) but I think it might have to do with the rational mind after sex having a feeling of being used by a top, which I suppose happens and it makes sense that that would be a bit of a downer. It’s probably like the comedown you get the morning after drugs except without the shakes and altered perception of reality.
But so far, no sub drop. I felt great afterwards, I was really enthusiastic and I really can’t wait to do it again. Our pre-emptive cuddle and chat also involved the exchange of a certain four-letter word we’re all familiar with, which probably also helped to alleviate any potential “drop” in my mood. The only drop I’m experiencing now is the sadness at being halfway to a different country and consequently being further away than usual from him and not being able to phone him without bankrupting myself. However, the upside of this is that I get to see a friend I haven’t seen for over three years, and this trip will also potentially get my foot in the door to working where I’ve wanted to work since I was 14. (I’m turning 23 in a couple of months).
Expect more writing about Dom/sub experiences from me over the next few weeks though, I’m very excited about getting to have more experience with this sort of thing and learn more about this topic which I’m shockingly ignorant about as a sex-positivist. Can’t wait!
Adorable Bastard has had his title upgraded now to The Boyfriend. Yep, you heard it here first (unless we’re friends on Facebook), Dexxx is no longer single. Weird, n’est-ce pas? So how did this come about? It was me who was unsure as to where I stood after our last conversation and things still felt a bit up in the air, so I asked him outright – “What do I call you when I’m talking about you to other people? This Guy I’m Seeing seems a bit long winded…” and we settled on boyfriend.
You should all know me well enough by now though to know that this isn’t your conventional couple-type relationship. Back in the very, very early days of this blog I wrote about non-monogamous relationships and the negotiations surrounding them, from the perspective of someone who’d never actually done any of that. You can read the post here, and actually what’s described in there is more or less exactly what happened both in our initial “what is this?” conversation and in a couple of others since then. It was all amazingly straightforward (because The Boyfriend is a reasonable human being and we both share the belief that being honest about your desires is probably the best way to get them and being up-front about your concerns is likely the best way to avoid problems later on), actually, though just because I’m using the past tense there doesn’t mean that these negotiations are over – everything is always up for open discussion at any time, as it should be.
The agreement, then, is this. Both of us can, guilt-free, hook up and have sex with other people (as long as that person isn’t in a monogamous relationship themself); to this end I still have my grindr profile active but it does now clearly state on there that all I want is NSA, which brings me to point two. While sex with others is okay, dates involving other people are not – no going out for drinks/dinner/coffee with other people, because that – to me, anyway – suggests romance and emotional involvement which is not what we’re going for here. Terms of endearment, cuddles and affection stay between the two of us, anything else is Just Sex. This probably in theory (though isn’t something I’m too worried about in practice as I don’t tend to get a lot of repeat performances anyway) also means not sleeping with the same person more than a few times, because that also is likely to end up having some sort of emotional string attached to it. Weirdly – or maybe this isn’t weird, you tell me – that’s the side of things where I’m more likely to view something as cheating or betrayal; have sex with other people all you want, that doesn’t bother me. But don’t spoon them all night and make them pancakes in the morning, or go for coffee with them and ruffle their hair or call them darling. All in all, it’s an arrangement which I’m very very happy with and he seems to be too, so long may it continue.
(It should also go without saying that we’re vigilant about safety and I have a seemingly endless supply of condoms and about half a litre of lube at the ready whenever it’s called for. This also means telling one another what we’ve done, when and with whom so we can decide what we feel comfortable doing with one another in terms of keeping ourselves safe.)
We’re having a lot of fun in bed and out of it. I’m getting to explore my dominant side a little which until now has been quite dormant, which I’m really enjoying, and means I get to put the collar I bought when I was visiting Magenta to good use. Bite marks, scratches and bruises are all kept below the neck though. We’ve yet to actually tie one another up but I’m looking forward to that happening!