Tuesday, July 27, 2010

No fucking thank you

So, I don't actually like receiving oral.

Giving?  Oh, I adore giving.  I fantasize about cocks in my mouth on a regular basis.

Receiving?  Not so much.

For the most part I try to be, mmm, nonchalant about it.  "It's nice", I say, "but that's about all it is".  Or, "I can take it or leave it".

That is more where I want to be, where I strive to be, than where I really am.

Where I actually am is Saturday morning, Jay and I had woken up, and I was feeling decidedly frisky.  We started making out, he put his hand on my throat, starting using the paddle on my tits (which have I mentioned?  I love), started using it on my cunt.  I was sprawled on the bed, legs open, really starting to get in to things and thinking to myself "oh god please fuck me" when he bends over me, puts his face between my legs, and ever-so-gently starts licking my clit.

"It's okay, I'm cool" I practically chanted to myself and laid absolutely still.  Yeah, it was cool for about 90 seconds, tops, when it was definitely OHMYGODNOTCOOL and I pretty much freaked.

A couple of things:

  1. The better I'm doing on a given day with respect to my body image, the easier it is for me to chill out and not freak out when Jay starts eating me out.  If I'm already anxious in some way about my body, it's far easier for me to be extremely anxious about the state of my vadge.  On Saturday, I was already low-level freaking about the fact that we were due to be going to the beach with friends, and I would be wearing a swimsuit, and my legs were kind of hairy, and none of these friends had ever seen me in a swimsuit before.  Yes, intellectually, who the fuck cares?  It's my body, my body is wonderful, if they have a problem with it it's their problem not mine blah blah blah etc. and so on.  And most of the time, I can maintain that.  But unlearning the self-loathing for my body that I've been marinating in for nearly 30 years is a long, arduous process, and clearly is not done yet.  It was definitely an "EW NO GROSS" moment.  I'm not proud of it, but there it is.
  2. At the best of times, oral sex performed on me is pleasant and nothing more.  It does not come close to getting me off, and doesn't do anything to increase the pleasure I'm feeling.  If anything, it decreases it, as it's kind of ho-hum.  As you can imagine, this doesn't provide any incentive to get over myself in this area.
  3. I'm really sick of hearing from various sources, such as magazines and the like, that oral is the end-all-be-all of getting off and that women all looooove oral.  Fuck you.  By stating that women are a monolith you do a disservice to women fucking everywhere.  We all get off in different ways and like different things and that's okay.
  4. Joseph and I, in our myriad discussions, have discussed oral.  Upon finding out that I actually don't like receiving, his reply was "When we get together, I WILL go down on you, and you WILL like it."  My immediate reaction was "Fuck you, no I won't".  I don't respond well to orders.  SHOCKING, I know.  But that conversation popped in to my head Saturday morning.  It added to the fucked-up-ness, which I didn't appreciate.
  5. I also hear about all these women who just wish their guys would go down on them, and I wish mine wouldn't.  How is it that a woman who despises oral keeps attracting guys who love giving it?  What the fuck?
  6. Jay's and my relationship is such that should he choose to dominate this hang-up out of me, he probably could.  In other words, he could order me to like it, proceed to do it to me on a regular basis, and basically train my reaction out of me.  He hasn't, and I'm not sure I want him to.
  7. My sense of smell has been cranked to 11 lately, so I am hyper-sensitive to odors, and have a hard time remembering this under pressure.
So I got triggered in a bad, ugly way, and proceeded to cry in the shower, and then be unspeakably tetchy and angry the entire rest of the day. We also did not go to the beach, for mostly related reasons.

We eventually processed it all out (at 3 in the morning, when we both went to bed, wheee!), whereupon I cried again.  Jay had gotten blindsided when I freaked in the morning, because one, he had no way of knowing what kind of headspace I was already in, and 2, when we had last discussed this topic and I had said "it's not unpleasant?" I had not made clear that that was more in the way of being a goal than my default state of being.

Having processed and reconnected, we were both feeling better, whereupon he proceeded to apply the new clips I bought at Ikea to my nipples, which, I have to share, was DIVINE.  Which will teach him to doubt my purchases!  And lo, it was good.

Still do not have any desire to be eaten out, ever though, thanks.  Just... no.

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