play and denial.
My slow sex efforts were off to a rocky start. Fuckbuddy and I met for dinner the other night, and within minutes we were talking about rape and roleplay. We’ve never roleplayed before, not with eachother, but fuckbuddy’s an actor and I used to roleplay for pay. In theory, we should be able to orchestrate an epic rape fantasy. Trouble is, I’m a shitty actress and I’m on this slow sex kick.
I love that fuckbuddy never winces at his darker fantasies. And they’re dark, darker than mine, but he owns them. He pulls out his cock and owns them all.
On this subject, I’ve always been fascinated by the darker side of human nature. I think there’s a part of us that wants to be devastated – by love, by sex, by work. This notion of a ‘petite mort,’ this perfect bodily experience that knocks us back until we slowly regain focus, does mirror any brush with death.
It’s a persisting trope that I find compelling, the points where lust and fear touch. Men have paid me for this, to recreate fear, to make them worry and fret, to be unpredictable, difficult, demanding, dismissive, forceful (the force comes naturally), and strict, and cruel. And women, some women, many women, are attracted to men who throw them off-guard, bad men who do bad things, who tear down their panties and hold their wrists down and whisper shocking things into their ears. The flash of adrenaline to fight or flee, if only there weren’t restraints or a restraining grip, can make a girl wet. It can. It does. I am. And in the case of fuckbuddy, my wide-eyed shock makes him hard, and he grinds that erection against me and knows very well that he can overpower me at any moment, if not every moment. It’s a tension in our relationship. Yes – we could play rape, complete with operatic intermezzi.
But I’m on this slow sex kick, and I’m doing it. I’m informing bedmates and fuckfriends and the like, and I’m slowing it down. I’m already an exceptionally slow cocksucker – I’ll just extend that. And I’m thinking I don’t just want to go slowly. I want to tease and be teased. I want to want, and not have. I want the anti-rape, the delicious energy generated by the promise, and denial, of penetration. I hate that. But that’s what I need.
That’s what I want. Unfortunately, I’ve agreed to several threesomes this week with James, so I won’t be denied a thing. And fuckbuddy’s not going to agree to any sort of no-penetration play.
So I’ve decided to fixate on someone I want, but can’t and won’t have. And I’ll torture myself by cultivating that desire in private, from a distance, until it’s excruciating.
Hmmmmmm, sounds to me like going on a diet when you are not overweight. You only have so much time as an assembled mass of plasma and you are choosing to go slow, play it safe? What am I missing here? Better yet, what are you missing?
Oh, going slowly is definitely not safe.
And I think there’s something to be said for self-restraint, from time to time.
This “going slow” also sounds like the opportunity to re-explore other nontraditional forms of sex.
It may be a good thing right now (though you’re readers are panting and hoping to hear more), it’s good for you and that’s what’s important. Changing up the pace of things is always healthy, no matter what.
Three threesomes in one week. I swear you put those parts in just to make me bang my head against the wall:)
going slow. i was talking to the new guy about how i like a guy to go down on me. all i said was that every guy is in such a rush. im more into sensation and just need you to go nice and slow. ive said this a million times to each guy ive been with. this one actually listened. i think it took 30 seconds for him to make me cum. so going slow is my new motto.
this inspires me to go slower.
there’s something to be said for that excruciating waiting, that forced desire that I can see dripping from a girl’s mouth when I’ve withheld for just a little too long. I so rarely have the patience for it myself – all that feminine temptation and I just want to rip apart, possess, destroy even.
d,
are you in my head? as a prude, denial can come naturally to me. but slow isn’t always denial. it’s like a long meal with many, many courses. like japanese kaiseki, where each course is a tiny bowl or plate, or one lone piece of fish, or a shot glass barely filled with tiny nuggets of flavorful explosions. i’m writing a story about a seduction (even though it’s not quite seduction, i dunno) that takes literally decades. i know i don’t know you, but if you wanna read it when it’s done, please let me know.
Hey, I just wanted to say I’ve been reading you for awhile, and your blog is fantastic. I hope you don’t mind if I link you on my blog, as well. Keep up the wonderful writing.
Oh, I can be found @ http://janediaries.wordpress.com.
I like intense and fast. I like slow. I like intense and slow.
Another option is still. Ever try still? I love still. Still can give the most intense orgasms that last the longest time.
Lovely!
This is possibly my favourite my favourite thing I’ve read from you so far. But then I’m also fascinated by the dark, the basal and am an at time unfortunate expert in the self control / self restraint game.
The fact is, going slowly, for someone who likes it hard and fast, can actually be dangerous. Which is of course why it needs to be done.
amazing, i want to ask you…how do you manage to describe my innermost* so perfectly?
All I can think of when it comes to slowness is the wonderfully quotable Mr. Wonka.
“The suspense is killing me. I hope it lasts.”
Forced desire, dripping – Sinclair, you’ve got a way with those words. Sometimes I wonder if femininity, with its stiletto’d, gently hobbled form, invites its own undoing.
-
These comments are great. I’ve been reading them over quite a bit. Thank you for the compliment, Jane.
GW, it’s true, isn’t it… slowness is dangerous. I’m feeling it already.
And Gillette, just when I start to think that I might be fairly advanced in the field of fornication, I’m reminded that I have a way to go. Absolute stillness? I’ve come from pressure rather than friction (many times, even), but never with a friend. I’d like to explore that a bit.
KT, that kaiseki analogy is great. And I’d love to read your story when it’s done.
still… okay that one i have to write down :)
Men paid you for such roleplay?
That gives me hope.
I think such topics are close to tabu on many escort and discussion sites. Most escorts don’t go there. If they play, they do so in a dominant role. Everything else is considered too dangerous.
But I know I want that. Some of my clients have had the mix of caring and assertion that made me think they could be good: assertive and strong enough to play rough, yet caring and attentive for it to be ultimately safe.
I am UTR now, but when I get a new site up I was thinking of throwing in some description and fantasies. Some pictures that involve a hint of bondage. Make it subtle, suggestive but visible to a man who could share the fantasy.
I would love to talk to you about this if you’d be open to such conversation. Could I send you an email?
Sure, Thais. I’ve been able to integrate a little kink into my client relationships – I think the desire/demand is out there.
The roleplay – professional roleplay – was great work. I loved it. There wasn’t any sex, so it was extremely frustrating, but I think that made it better and certainly more challenging. Since that line was very clearly defined (sex=illegal, roleplay=legal), it forced us to really get into the fantasy. It was very mental.
A friend emailed me in response Thais’ comment, but he wasn’t sure whether to post it here since it risked opening up a dialogue (for the record, I like that sort of thing). So I offered to post it for him:
“I’ve been just full of top energy lately and in the last two months have had two
separate and mutually rewarding seances with escorts that ended up involving (not through any pre-planning, they just went off in that direction) a fair amount of bondage and dominant play with me topping. I wouldn’t ever attempt a real pain scene in that context, but we had lots of fun with bondage, gaggage, clips, clamps, leashes, posture and form, and mild discomfort– flogging and OTK spanking that left no marks.
Neither were ladies I knew beforehand, but both were longer dates, and in the course of the evenings, conversations unfolded, interests seemed to converge, a level of trust was established, and I think both evenings were greatly successful. The first woman motioned me midway through to take her gag out–I thought she was unhappy and was calling the scene, which scared me that I’d done something wrong. But it turned out that she just wanted to ask me to get her camera from her bag and take some photos of her all trussed up and gagged. :)”