The Semantics of Sex
In an attempt to find answers to the questions I have been asking myself recently as a result of my increasing dissatisfaction with our group sex encounters, I’ve come to one conclusion: The notion of using categories to define any sort of intrinsic or immutable aspect of my sexuality is both naïve and misguided. In comparison to our stint as “swingers,” a time when our boundaries were relatively fixed, this stage of our sexual evolution is so fluid and volatile that we find ourselves negotiating limits on an almost daily basis.
For example, we’re now entertaining the idea of having exclusive play partners whom we do not share. Recently, I’ve been really turned on by the idea of PC taking a lover. I imagine him coming home with her juice on his face so that I can taste her when I kiss him. I’d want him to fuck me exactly like he fucked her, while describing how she reacted to his touch.... Will we ever go there in real time? I’m not sure. However, so far we’ve somehow managed to live out almost every fantasy we’ve ever entertained (except for this one).
I also have a thing for transsexuals – particularly those who are built like women, identify as women, but have a cock. Maybe this is tied to a recurring teenage dream I used to have, wherein I traded genitals with my then boyfriend and fucked my cunt (now on his body) with his cock (now attached to my body). I wonder what new sensations and pleasure I would experience in the arms of a such a woman? In what ways would such an encounter open up my psyche?
Another thing: Lately I’ve given PC license to spank, slap, and restrain me, not to mention fuck with my mind while he drives our private BDSM-inspired scenarios. Since last week, he even decides when and for how long I masturbate. It turns out that I really enjoy being dominated, physically and psychologically. Actually we both love it, for different reasons. He gets off on being able to see the visible marks of his power over me: Bite bruises, tears, the red imprint of his hand on my ass. As for me, I have a perverse desire to be pushed past my limits – to reach “subspace,” that sublime turning point where pain transforms into pleasure.
There’s more: I get turned on by men in lingerie. I don’t mean lacy women’s slips and panties, but a more masculine adaptation that highlights a man’s assets, i.e., his cock and balls. Wanna know my idea of a hot ensemble? I’d love to see PC topless, wearing only opaque, open-crotch nylons (analogous to the built-in garter style for women), and military boots. Yum. I think he’d deserve some serious cock worship in that. Oh, and if he had a whip hanging from a heavy, dark, metallic belt, that would be even better.
I Fuck, Therefore I Am (a sexual being)
Where am I going with this? To get back to my initial point, the idea of defining our sexuality in terms of its “essence” makes no sense in such a dynamic context. Actions, not abstractions or conceptual categories, define who we are as sexual beings. The only thing I can do, in other words, is map out my sexual identity through the sex acts I perform.
As a result of this shift in perspective (from an idealist or noumenal to a phenomenological approach to the notion of identity), questions such as “What is my sexual orientation?” or “How do I define my sexual identity?” necessarily give way to more practical and concrete lines of inquiry: “Who/what/how am I fucking?” and “Who/what/how do I want to fuck in the future?”
For those of you who seek the comfort of handles, definitions, and categories, take heart. In light of what I’ve just revealed to you, my current sexual self can be loosely described in the following terms: BDSM. Pansexual. Kinky. and Polyamorous.
(Still with me? Curious to learn more? Stay tuned for my next post. Also, if any of you out there are on a similar trajectory, I'd
love to hear from you. )
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