I was recently asked how I would describe myself in bed, in a rather random but interesting conversation with the girls. We were exploring how personalities can shine through in sexual activity, but also how one might be surprised with a new lover, who isn't exactly as you'd assumed they'd be. What I said was, open-minded but not willing to jump into bed with any guy. What I thought was....
I'm loving, caring and considerate, all important qualities in a lover. I am also impatient, with minimal self control, a rampant libido, and very sexually demanding. I have great oral skills but I will not use them unless I’m in love with the guy – it’s somehow more intimate than intercourse (possibly THE most unsexy word in the English language). I love to be properly fucked all over the house. By a tall and muscly alpha. Held against the hall wall and screwed. Then on the oven, finishing on the dining room table, ending with him standing over me and sucking my nipple til I scream. I suppose this is the result of my having to be in control at all times; poised, self-assured and unflappable at work and at home. But in the bedroom I really want to be able to let go and be dominated, especially by a massive muscly man in uniform who strips me off and handcuffs me to the bed while going down on me for ages. I want to forget my name, his name, the world around me and surf the crest of my orgasm for as long as possible. I want to know that my becoming a sweaty mess is pushing him further and feeding his desire. My seeming perma-calm (except for when I'm excited and happy ergo bouncing round like a loon) is not at all maintained in the bedroom. This doesn't make me a liar; it makes me a woman. And as far as I'm concerned, it's up to the guy I'm with to read what I'm NOT saying and to make me come accordingly.
I'm loving, caring and considerate, all important qualities in a lover. I am also impatient, with minimal self control, a rampant libido, and very sexually demanding. I have great oral skills but I will not use them unless I’m in love with the guy – it’s somehow more intimate than intercourse (possibly THE most unsexy word in the English language). I love to be properly fucked all over the house. By a tall and muscly alpha. Held against the hall wall and screwed. Then on the oven, finishing on the dining room table, ending with him standing over me and sucking my nipple til I scream. I suppose this is the result of my having to be in control at all times; poised, self-assured and unflappable at work and at home. But in the bedroom I really want to be able to let go and be dominated, especially by a massive muscly man in uniform who strips me off and handcuffs me to the bed while going down on me for ages. I want to forget my name, his name, the world around me and surf the crest of my orgasm for as long as possible. I want to know that my becoming a sweaty mess is pushing him further and feeding his desire. My seeming perma-calm (except for when I'm excited and happy ergo bouncing round like a loon) is not at all maintained in the bedroom. This doesn't make me a liar; it makes me a woman. And as far as I'm concerned, it's up to the guy I'm with to read what I'm NOT saying and to make me come accordingly.
With feist comes fire. Passion cannot exist without something to stoke it. This however makes for a very interesting person. With honesty comes openness and truth. I'm diplomatic at work but I don’t want to pussyfoot around and mis-communicate in my relationships. Life is too short, I've done it before and I want something real. But people don't often associate honest with truthful.... Or maybe I'm just dumb. But evidently British men don’t like women who want to be, and act as, equals.
I don't want to lie because I'm scared of saying what the other person doesn’t want to hear. I don't want to be scared to tell the truth. I don't want to worry that I'll be punished with a fortnight of silence for the smallest thing. I want to be able to tell truth about my thoughts, feelings, experiences without fear of recriminations, judgement and resentment. I want to share my crazy bubble and special dreams with the person I'm intimate with. I want them to love me for who I am, not in spite of it.
I don't want to have to rush into sex because he damages my self-esteem. I don't want to spend ages going through the motions of giving him head while he sits and watches the football or top gear with a can of beer in his hand.
I want to look to the future, be free. Fly like a bird, happy, independent, unbound by gravity.
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