We looked at pictures of lions having sex. I’d seen a picture of lion sex accidentally and felt horny. The way he bit her neck. Her submission to his pushing, thrusting mass. Yes–feline, strong, massive upon her.
“You wanna see?” I asked my spouse. We were in bed. He said yes, so I showed him the pic of lion sex. He liked it too.
“Does it make you horny?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
Then when we were having sex, I kept thinking of being his lion. I imagined his bite, his thrusts as I was on my tummy on the earth, accepting.
I loved the cool look of the lady cat. My tummy on the earth–in my imagination, it feels so good, as I accept lion love.
Then to have cubs later. I don’t want to have kids with him in real life, as a human. The animal fantasies are cozy–less commitment and fear.
today
Then having sex today, I asked, “Do you remember when we looked at that pic of lion sex?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Did it make you horny?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said.
“When we were doing it, did you think of being a lion with me?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Me too! I imagined you pinning me. And I imagined resting under a tree, on the savanna, watching you fucking the other lions, knowing it would be my turn soon. Did you think about that too?”
“Yes,” he said.
“Oh! Fucking the other lions?”
“Yeah,” he said.
I kissed his hand. I kissed his palm, his wrist, each finger. His fingertips, as I pondered us.
sex critique
When we had sex again, I had this whole scene in my head, of my spouse as the dicked lion. We vulved lions with less fur on our necks are watching as he fucks one of us. Critiquing it all, in our heads.
Yes, good form. Nice persistence. I like the roaring ejaculation moment. The enthusiasm is inspiring.
The receptive lions all respond a little differently. We’re thinking of when it will be our turn.
How will it feel, as he’s above and behind me, hot breath on my neck? Dick quivering into me, over and over? The earth solid under me. I would feel safe, on the trustworthy ground.
Calmly willing to be impregnated. Content to be there for him, to accept what he’s giving. Hormones swirl inside us. His balls do their sperm work, as my lion cunt does its specific work also.
video
Then I looked at a video of lions doing it–the mating moment was so brief, just a few seconds. Then I saw a longer video, where it took half a minute. His roar when he comes. And I liked one where he licks her head, as he fucks her.
So weird and sweet. Like people, but not like people. Was the male old, and was this his last time, strong enough to maintain the relationship and produce baby cats? I imagined he was in decline.
This “warning very graphic” one inspired my questions about decline. Was the wind cold? I see the wrinkled skin on his tummy and wonder at his prowess and age. She looks restless for a second, and he licks her head then. Like he’s saying, “I’m almost done. Stay right there.”
When he comes, I see her patient seriousness, as her head is in his roaring mouth. Then I see how she turns on her side, when he gets off her. She’s free to rest on the rock. He’s finished with her for now.
Sounds fun, doing it over and over for days. This is your life–sex life. Away from home, my spouse and I have done something like that. I think I liked it more than he did.
for science
It autoplayed, and I watched curiously, then laughed afterward, feeling like a pervert for watching yotube lion sex videos in the middle of the night. For science, of course. I thought of all the people getting off on this, like me laughing afterward, embarrassed. Lots of views with few “likes.”
Some must move on to watch the gorillas and bonobos and housecats too, from the suggested videos. I finish my blog post and think of breakfast. I’m not lonely–my spouse will fuck me when he wakes up in a few hours. No need to masturbate to the apes.
tender
Is it cold biology, or is it tender feelings with nuance? A narrator in one video said they get thinner, when it’s time for mating. They don’t hunt, during that time. Just do it over and over again, for days. That sounds vulnerable–during lean times, to risk dying for love.
So much of love is giving. If she hunts and helps him eat delicious meat, does his heart swell, that she cares for him? He could get a tear in his eye, that she provides so skillfully. Or is it business as usual? Does she ever come?
It doesn’t matter. I don’t need to delve into lion relationships, to know myself. Long ago near San Diego, I rode a trolley at the wild animal park. The tour guide talked a lot of crap about animal relationships, for a laugh, comparing the wild creatures to us.
“See, humans are not so bad,” some people comfort themselves. A glimpse of context with other animals, and the human bad behavior is justified. I shrug about that.
What we do in our queer family is definitely nuanced and tender. Well, a range of behaviors, with a range of feelings, deep kindness layered underneath.
