Monday, April 2, 2012

Q&A: Why?

My husband asked a question, though it isn't March anymore, and I'm pretty sure he didn't intend to spur a blog post. I apparently did a sad job of explaining it to him in person. Anyway, I hope you all know you can ask me anything anytime, I'll be glad to answer.

 "Why do you like sex so much?"

Sex is amazing because of the connection it gives me to my husband, whom I adore. The intimacy, the pleasure he derives from it, and the pleasure I feel all combine to give me an experience I prefer to pretty much any other. The first two things inform the third one to a great degree. If I start to feel he's disconnected from the experience, or is just going through the motions for my sake, it's no good anymore emotionally. I can perhaps even still orgasm, but if the head space is wrong the orgasm will leave me feeling pretty rotten. I could end up in tears. 

If he starts to disconnect from it all, there's really nothing he can do at that point to not make me sad. if he stops I will feel I have done something wrong, if he continues then I'll feel bad he's not really into it. He's in a no-win scenario and I feel really badly for him. The best I can do is lie silently in his arms and not say or do anything to trigger a tremble in my voice - but when I am silent he knows something is wrong too. Thankfully it doesn't all go wrong very often.

Most of the time we have amazing sex and he knows exactly what triggers the most arousal in me, and gleefully uses that information. I love the space where I go during sex, and I love the physical sensations he gives me - hands in my hair, cock in my throat, cock sliding, sliding, wherever he chooses to slide it, impacts of his hand or an implement, the cruel bite of teeth on flesh, the caress of his words in my ear. Delicious. I live for those minutes where I am nothing but his. I am not a daughter, not a mother, not a friend or an employee or a homeowner or any other of the hundred hats a person wears in a day, I am just...his, and I don't have to think of anything but what would please him most. The absolute peaceful bliss that this state of being induces is nothing to be sneezed at.

If my head space is right, and I feel that I have been a "good girl" in my own estimation as well as his, after sex is a beautiful world full of golden light. Everything is right, I am loved, he is happy, and I really do feel as if I float there in his arms. I make a lot of soft happy noises. If I was a cat I'd purr continuously. To me, the love is palpable all around us. It really is making love, even if there's degrading talk or impact play or bondage involved.

If we have lots of good sex regularly then there's really nothing that can get me down for long. Even grief is eased by awesome sex. Best mood adjuster in the world.

All of those are the things I couldn't express when asked on the spot. I answered the question, but I did it badly. Lying in his arms with my head on his shoulder, he casually told me that he was pretty sure it's safe to say I get more pleasure out of sex than he does, and he went on to say that he guessed that made me pretty lucky. I fell silent, my head spinning with thoughts I couldn't express, thinking I had really, seriously botched my job of explaining why I liked sex so much. He kept trying to get me to talk, to tell him what was wrong. He told me to kiss him and I shook my head. He fisted his hand in my hair, tilted my lips up to his, and kissed me anyway.

I burst into tears. No, not just tears, messy, sobbing tears that flooded his chest.

How to explain to someone that doing this thing - this thing that was exactly what I would have wanted done -     can bring me to tears in half a second?

He is good to me, and we kept talking. He was bewildered at first, but held me, gave me a tissue to blow my nose, and we worked it out.

I feel everything more than he does - not just pleasure, but sadness, anger, excitement, nervousness. That's just our different personalities. His statement was only assigning absolute values to our relative experiences, and his personal absolutes don't have the range mine do.

I hope I've managed to be a little more clear in my answer now.

12 comments:

  1. What a lovely tribute to a wonderful connection. I especially identify with the lack of sex causing a void (which is what you said in opposite land), and when I was a single gal in my 20's, if a month went by without, well, I was not a nice person. Made things hard with no relationship.

    Since I somehow always seem to end up with computer geeks, I just started saying, once in a while, you have to reboot. :)

    Kitty

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    1. Oh it definitely causes a void, opposite land or no. I eventually learn to exist without, but it's not ideal. My husband said that in the absence of sex: "You're just not the best coccolithophore that you can be." (we're huge geeky fans of the radio show Radiolab, and that's a line from one of the recent shows)

      Computer geek? Who? *looks around and whistles innocently*

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  2. I'm so glad you're enjoying it so much!:) I don't. I enjoy it much more in my fantasies, and when I'm writing, my characters totally enjoy it, so I'm capable of imagining really enjoying it, but I don't. It just plain doesn't feel that good to me, not even when I was young and horny. When I was young, I was with my ex who I didn't lust for, and now I'm with a man I do lust for, but my libido is shot. Maybe someday I'll have a man I lust for and horniness at the same time, but I'm beginning to doubt it. The past few years have been extraordinarily stressful, so combine that with being on the verge of 50, and well, sex is mostly uncomfortable for me. Sad but true :(

    Sometimes I wonder why Master bothers with me, since this relationship is supposed to be only about sex. I'm beginning to think he must actually enjoy my company, or he'd be getting sex from someone a lot more into it than I am.

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    1. It's interesting, because I wouldn't describe what I feel as horniness exactly, unless he's worked me up into that state first. It's just a desire to connect with him, to touch and stroke and kiss. Usually it leads to sex, but sometimes it just leads to long geeky conversations with his arms wrapped around me.

      Your stress levels are hopefully going down, and your man is becoming more and more of a person, it seems. So perhaps you can have the desire again - but being able to be relaxed with this person is even better than the horniness.

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  3. Wow, really interesting post. I can relate to what you said about feeling those intense emotions. I also don't like it when I'm told I'm enjoying it more; as the sub, I enjoy it BECAUSE he's enjoying it. I understand where you're coming from! I'm glad you worked it out. We've been having a few tissue moments ourselves lately. But you know how you talked about the intimacy of sex? In a way, I think those tearful moments build intimacy as well. Not that one would ever want one, but I do think it's good for growth.

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    1. Yeah, exactly, my enjoyment stems from his. But I suppose if you add the pleasure I get from his enjoyment to the pure physical nature of the thing, you can't help but get a sum total of more.

      The tears are definitely intimate. He doesn't cringe away from them even when he's bewildered, or sigh with frustration.

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  4. Do you think you would still enjoy sex if you couldn't orgasm?

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    1. This is an excellent question and I will answer it in another post. (the short answer? yes.)

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  5. It seems very clear to me. For me, that connection, the energy it generates is the reason for living. There is nothing that even comes close to that kind of fulfillment :)

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    1. Oh, yes. I didn't go so far as to say it like this because I could hear the collective eye-roll across the universe, but...yes. "This is what I'm for," is very very true when I say it.

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  6. I enjoy the sense of letting go, totally relaxed, no pressure, no deadlines, the intimacy of it all and, of course, the orgasms, BUT I wouldn't enjoy it at all if Daddy didn't either. It's a shared interest, lol!

    Love,
    Kitty

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    1. Absolutely, if he's not enjoying himself, what's the point?

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