Intellectual Curiosity

#MasturbationMondayWhile this week’s prompt seemed to indicate that the topic under the magnifying glass (not literally, before any of us guys get an inferiority complex) was the penis, I’ve decided to go off on a bit of a tangent. I am male and, therefore, it kind of goes without saying that I have a penis. I have, in fact, written a number of posts on the subject of my penis. My penis and I have been life-long partners and have shared many wonderful experiences together.

So, as I said, I thought I’d go somewhere slightly different…

For the record, I have absolutely no desire to be a woman. PMT, periods, pregnancy, childbirth, menopause, having to put up with us guys, inherent sexism in society; no, not for me. My genetic role of the dice came up XY and for that I am eternally grateful.

However, as someone who writes about sex, and writes (hopefully fairly realistic) descriptions of sex, I am curious as to what it would feel like from the female perspective.

Now, even as a man, there is nothing stopping me from, if I were so inclined, sucking another guy’s cock, or taking a cock in my arse but (and it’s a big but), I am not so inclined. There are some sacrifices I will not make for my art.

So, when trying to write about sex from a female perspective, I have attempted to glean what it feels like from my various partners over the years.

I know what it feels like to be inside a woman and, conversely, I can sort of imagine how it must feel in reverse, but I will never know.

So, if I could spend a day a woman, how would I spend that day?

Well, it stands to reason that I would spend a fair bit of time exploring and getting to know my new bits, for the purposes of research, obviously, you understand. Experiencing both orgasm, and the frustration of its denial as a woman would give me a fantastic insight for some of my D/s stories.

And then there’s sex…

Now, this is where it gets interesting. As I’ve already pointed out, as a straight male, I have absolutely no interest, sexually, in my own gender. This poses a bit of a problem. Were my personality to be transplanted, as is, into the body of a woman, with no other changes, then presumably my sexual preferences would remain as they are; i.e. attracted to women, no interest in men.  Surely then, this would make me a lesbian?

I don’t have a real problem with this. Given my passion for cunnilingus, I guess that would still be an option, and I would get to experience it from the woman’s perspective, so it’s all good.

However, given that I’ve already said, any such switch would be for the purposes of research, and so to fully achieve this, being a woman would also mean sex with a guy, otherwise what is the point of the experiment? Could I do it? Would I be able to enjoy it is I did? How would the experience affect me when I reverted back to my own body?

Of course,  another way of looking at it would be that since I am heterosexual, the female “me” would be as well, and I would be able to fully experience and (hopefully) enjoy the feelings and sensations of what it is to be a woman being taken by a man; to experience as a “receiver” all the things I do with my partner in my natural state as the “giver”

In an ideal world, the female “me would like both men and women, but I suspect I’m possibly being greedy.

Now, if you have read any of my stories, it may be that you think that my descriptions of sex and the feelings experienced by both partners are fairly accurate, albeit that everyone’s senses and sensations are unique to them. That being the case, the exercise become somewhat academic because, ultimately, the only person whose experiences and feelings I can truly accurately describe are my own.

On the whole, I think I’ll just stick to using my imagination. It seems to work well enough. I can’t deny, however, that I do have a certain intellectual curiosity. As I mentioned at the start however, I am very happy being a man and, in particular, this man.

ZeN

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Bottoms up! (Or making an arse of things)

In my experience, the women I have been with have fallen into two camps: those that took it up the arse, and those that didn’t. Those that did enjoyed it and those that didn’t were quite adamant that it wasn’t going to happen. In only one instance has it transpired that I stumbled upon an “uncertain” and that was simply because she had never tried it before. Once she had tried it, she was firmly in the “Yes” camp thereafter; so I can only assume I did something right.

Of the women I have done it with, there has been no general consensus as to how they preferred it done. Some liked it rough and hard, some preferred me to take it slowly and (as much as it can be) gently. All expressed a notion for it being somehow taboo, or illicit in a way that vaginal or anal sex were not. It was somehow darker, dirtier (if you’ll excuse the obvious double meaning) and that made it somehow more exciting.

Personally, when push comes to shove, it’s something I can take or leave. For me it has always been a case of “lady’s choice”. When the woman I’ve been with has wanted it, I’ve done it and enjoyed it. Similarly, when the woman hasn’t wanted it, I haven’t missed it. Also, in terms of what I do, I have only ever been a “giver”, “receiving” isn’t my thing.

What it comes down to, for me, is that it is simply one more weapon in my arsenal, one more string in my bow.  There are plenty of other activities that couples can enjoy that the presence or absence of this particular one makes little difference.  I don’t enjoy sex more when I get to fuck her arse, I don’t enjoy it less when I don’t.

Wicked WednesdayAs with everything, communication and respect is key. If the woman says its a “no”, then it’s a “no”; stop there, don’t try to coerce her into something she doesn’t want to do. In the case of my “uncertain”, it was something she was curious about but it was something where, ultimately, I let her set the pace; I didn’t force it, but from expressing an interest, we experimented and built up from fingering until she was ready for me to fuck her.  All the time the understanding was that if she didn’t like it or wanted me to stop at any point, I would.

As it happened, I stopped quite a few times. She wanted to persevere and after a few false starts along the way, we finally got there.  As I mentioned above, it turned out it was something she enjoyed and it is something we did fairly regularly after that.  Had I tried to force my way in on that first attempt, there is every chance I might have put her off it and, more importantly from my fragile male ego’s perspective, me.

All this is, I guess, is a rather rambling and long-winded way of saying that for me, its presence or absence is not a deal-breaker. I’ve always believed and strongly maintain that, first and foremost, sex should be enjoyable for the participants. If something you do enhances that, great; if it doesn’t, then concentrate on the things that do.

Ultimately though, if someone offers you their arse, don’t be one.

ZeN

The One And Only Way…

Every now and then I stumble across one of those articles/posts that falls into the:

Real Doms

and:

You can’t be Dominant if you don’t

categories. These kinds of articles really piss me off.

Why?

Because they are a total load of shite!

It’s bad enough trying to kinksplain D/s to a vanilla audience but when the shite is being spouted by individuals pertaining to be in the D/s community, it just makes things worse.

D/s relationships are not about pain or punishment, they are not about forcing someone else to your will, they are not about power and control and exploitation.

Well, OK, that’s not strictly true. D/s relationships can be about those things if that is dynamic of a particular relationship. If it is, and it works, and the individuals are happy with it, then great. It can be about those things, but it doesn’t have to be.

So here’s the thing, as I see it, a D/s relationship is, first and foremost, a relationship. Every relationship is as unique as the people who live within it. Every relationship has its own dynamic, its own set of “rules” that make it work. Possibly even more so than is the case in purely vanilla relationships, trust, respect and honesty are the fundamental keystones and foundations of a D/s relationship. A Dom is not a Dom because they beat/punish/discipline their submissive. They are a Dom because they nurture and protect, guide and support their submissive. If within the context of that relationship this is demonstrated and achieved through spankings and/or other forms of discipline, then so be it. It works, so great.

Similarly, a sub isn’t a sub because they have no will of their own or are weak. Again, this may be how it plays out within a particular dynamic of a particular relationship, but it doesn’t mean it applies universally.

Even within the confines of one relationship, what was right yesterday, may not be appropriate today and what works today may, for a myriad of reasons, by off limits tomorrow.

D/s relationships have their issues and unforeseen circumstances just like any other relationship and, fundamentally, this is because they are just another relationship.

Anyone who says that “A Dom must do so and so” or “You can’t be a Dom if you don’t do such and such” or “If you are a sub, you must perform whatever” is basically talking out of their arse.  There is no one right way to do D/s just as there is no one right way to do any relationship. The fundamental essential foundations of any relationship are pretty much the same, regardless of the flavour.

If there is to be only one right way it is, quite simply, whatever way is right for you. A Dom doesn’t have to use their belt or a cane and a sub doesn’t have to be humiliated or locked up in a cage. If that’s what works for you, that’s fantastic, keep doing it and don’t let anyone else tell you that you are wrong. If it isn’t your thing, don’t feel that it should be because some “know it all” says you should. Do what is right for you because, ultimately, it’s nobody else’s business what  you and your partner(s) get up to within the context of the relationship you share with them.

ZeN

My Belt

Wicked WednesdayThe crack it makes as I snap he ends together. The way you flinch with anticipation and apprehension at the sound. The soft, unblemished skin that has yet to feel its kiss.

The whistle in the air as it swings on its path. The way you tense as you wait for its contact. The mounting yearning for its stinging caress.

The drawn out moment as you wait to feel it. The unbearable slowness of the passage of time. The movement of the air as it approaches.

The resounding smack as it bites your skin. The mix of pain and pleasure as you cry out at its touch. The deepening crimson glow that marks its path.

The increasing heat and pain with every stroke. The intense arousal each kiss ignites. The relief that comes from knowing you’ve endured the final lash.

ZeN

Time & Distance

Wicked WednesdayIt starts, as it so often does, with an early morning text message. It’s not even a particularly naughty one; often no more than a “Good morning” or “Did you sleep well?” The scene, however, is already set.

As the morning progresses, the level of suggestion in the exchanged messages deepen.  Selected pins from Pinterest are used to convey desire, to express what is being felt, to emphasis what we would do if we weren’t miles apart, if the hours instantly passed and we were together.

The ante is upped as the quotes make way for the images from Tumblr; each one that little bit more explicit, more graphic than the last, each one a statement of intent.

As the day progresses we tease and arouse and seduce each other with words and images. She knows I long to taste her, to lick her and feast on her until she cums hard on the tip of my tongue. I know she wants to take me in her mouth, to lick and suck that part of me that she has made so hard.

We both know what we want and need, and that is each other; skin against skin, our lips pressed together, me inside her, our bodies joined.

As the clock ticks down the minutes of the last hour of separation we enter the calm before the storm.

My phone flashes. “I’m home” it reads.

“On my way” I reply.

“Let yourself in, I’m waiting for you…”

ZeN

Sexy

Wicked WednesdayBeauty, they say, is only skin deep. Sexy, on the other hand, goes right to the core. So what do we mean by sexy? Is it appearance, is it an attitude, or is it just some unfathomable quality that you see in someone?

Humans are a visual species, so it is impossible, I think, to completely divorce sexiness with physical attractiveness, but in my opinion, the two are not inextricably linked. While everyone has their own “standards” of what they find attractive in another person, simply finding them attractive does not necessarily mean that you also find them sexy.

Sexy is something more than just the physical. It may be an attitude, but what attitude?

Many people say they find confidence sexy; I’m one of them. At the same time, however, I would also say that I find a sexiness in vulnerability too.

I think much depends on the person; it also depends on the circumstances, and the situation.

In a club, the way someone moves when the dance may make them sexier than the other members of their group. The way someone smiles, the way they angle their head to listen and talk to you. The way they dress. The degree of confidence/hesitation they display. Our brains are constantly picking up these signals and analysing them.

So, is sexy just a chemical reaction in our brains?

Like all things human, sexy is subjective and, I think, highly individual. What I find sexy in a certain person, others may not. What one person finds sexy about me, others may be turned off by.

For me, it is a combination of looks and personality. I’ll be honest and admit that the physical attraction catches my attention, but it is the personality/attitude that ultimately piques my interest. Just because there may be a recognition of physical attractiveness does not mean that I automatically find a person sexy.

In this age of online friendships, sometimes the physical is actually the last thing we see, and yet, somehow, we can still engage in “sexual” stimuli; there is something that we find (for the want of a better term) sexy about that person that shapes the way we interact with them.

So while beauty and sexy may not be the same thing, they are very much, I believe, both in the eye/mind of the beholder.

ZeN