I want to write ‘things’, but most are not worth a blog post (what IS worth a blog post, you may ask… fucked if I know!).
I don’t like how that feels, frankly. Sometimes this happens because I have lots of vague thoughts floating around in my head and I can’t grab any of them and make them solid, but lately it feels a little like my mind is empty. I have been doing some detailed stats work in the last couple of weeks and I fear that my brain has leaked out of my ears in the minutiae of it all.
I want to do an update on my body project, on my ‘Men who submit’ project, on my search for a submissive, on kissing (always!), on various frustrations and sweetnesses, but I just can’t seem to make those things gel into something substantive.
So for those who are following my tumblr for more than the pretty, you may want to wander off now: I am recycling random thoughts that I threw out there (shhhh, no telling!):
Watching a man blossom under relentless sexual attention is fascinating and hot and amazing and revelationary.
And for him then to learn how much sexual power he has in that context as an object of desire is just… guh!
Oh my fuck yes.
When I get some kissing, it really just makes me want more kissing.
I don’t think there’s ever an ‘enough’, there’s only ‘I have to stop just now, I’m rubbed raw’ or ‘I need food/sleep/air…’
Kissing is like the Chinese food of sex.
I fall a little in love with boys I play with. It’s one of the reasons I can’t do casual play.
They have a power over me when they can give me even just a little of the intensity that I seek. If they give me even a touch, a smidgeon, a taste, I hand over a little piece of my heart to them.
“Here you go, it’s yours.”
It hurts me when they take it and wander off. It takes a while to heal in the aftermath.
It’s worth it, and it’s also SO not worth it.
Absolutely I’d be up for trying things that weren’t my kink (personal squicks excluded) because really, my kink is ‘pushing his buttons and playing with the result’.
Connection, rapport, vulnerability, intimacy – I use whatever play works to get at all of those, the actual ‘thing’ is just a tool to get there.
He ‘gets’ me. I ‘get’ him.
Also I want to rip his clothes off and throw him into a wall every time I see him.
BRING IT, UNIVERSE!
I can list a bunch of things that are ‘objectively sexy’, but with my partners, they have all had this uncanny ability to be prey to my predator.
I can’t put my finger on what it is exactly, but I know it, feel it, see it when he does it. It makes me WANT, aggressively and with force, and that is the sexiest thing ever.
It’s very irritating/annoying/depressing to keep reading how you’re doin’ it wrong, to see that smug nodding group-think that makes you feel bad and wrong over and over.
I know this.
I’m sorry if it ever sounds like I’m doing that (I’m sure it does at times: I’m an opinionated arsehole like that).
But hey, if someone makes you feel that, and even if they get a chorus of support-‘yeah!’s, you know what? Fuck them.
And yeah, if it’s me, fuck me too.
If you and your partners are in love and happy, you’re doing it right. All of it. Even if you stumble and falter and aren’t sure. Even then.
And everyone else can go fuck themselves.