what makes me horny

I saw this meme, a bingo card of what makes someone horny.  It gave me a giggle.  Hmm, I could relate to only two of the items.  It made me wonder what my bingo card would look like.  What makes me horny?

love

Love is what makes me horny more than anything.  Feeling deeply connected and understood, with respect and mutual support.  A safe feeling means I can be the full extent of who I am, and sexually desire someone in an advanced way.  Not just a twinge of interest, but a full on powerful urge to come on someone thousands of times, and make them come also, and all the sexy goodness.

I guess I really am demisexual, because love is a prerequisite for me feeling horny toward someone.  But I don’t like the word demisexual–there’s nothing halfway about it.  My desire is intense, and my sex drive is high.  Is twice a day high?  I just don’t wanna do it with strangers or people I barely know–only people I’m close to.

So I don’t think I belong on the ace spectrum at all.  I wish I could revamp the classifications.

mysterious chemistry

I’m good at not getting horny for straight women or gay men.  Yay, Nest!  Way to make at least a little bit of sense!

Otherwise, horniness for someone can arrive unexpectedly, unwantedly.  Often it goes like this.  I’ll feel extra excited about someone; I get an extra thrill, talking to them.  Maybe a friend crush?

And then if I spend more time with them, and like them more, my mind might drift to imagining having sex with them.  If we hug or hold hands, all the more.  Lust is kindled in my body.  That can cause a feedback loop, where I think more and more about wanting to have sex with them.  It becomes a comfort, to fantasize.

If I know someone’s really not good for me, I can try not to allow myself to go past the thrilled, friend-crush feeling.  Once I start wanting someone sexually, it can be very difficult to stop.

dysfunction

I must admit, dysfunction is the saddest thing that makes me horny.  By dysfunction I mean when I’m projecting onto someone, often thinking that they’re better than me.  When I was young, I got into weird relationships with my teachers, who were much older than me, and the power was wrong.  Something about the lack of balance pleased me, sexually.

I’d like to leave all that behind–I mostly have!  Dysfunction is destructive to my life and wastes energy.  So now I work hard to care for myself in every way, be realistic, and avoid getting swept up adoring people who I think are better than me.

They’re not.  Often they’re selfish white guys who enjoy having their ego stroked and take advantage of my starry-eyed misplaced worship.  They encourage it and take all they can from me.  Eventually I realize what’s going on…

Yes, fie on the philosophy professor I adored for 20 years, on three continents.  Praise Mother God I’m finally done with him.  But adoring him was better than any drug I knew.  Writing him a letter was an ecstatic experience.  And to hear from him–his handwriting made me drool.

I live in my inner world.  In a sad way, it didn’t matter he was a selfish, womanizing blowhard–he was a genius with amazing hands.

hands

When I feel thrilled by someone’s hands, that’s a sign I’m getting a crush on them, falling in love with them, getting horny for them.  It’s like a hand fetish?  I want to kiss them, come on them, and just stare.  Ah, the hands of someone I love.  It’s such a pleasure.

I remember with my spouse, back before we were really close, when we were first getting to know each other.  We walked from the park to this 24 hour Mexican restaurant.  He got a burrito and cocacola.  I remember looking at his beautiful, beautiful brown hands as he ate, and I was like–that’s all she wrote.  I’m done for!

I have a friend who has strangely long hands.  Sometimes I’ll notice the length of his elegant, long fingers, and I’ll say to myself, “Please stop staring at his hands.”  He’s not an appropriate person for me to desire, but his hands draw my eye and distract me.

The last man I was in love with, I wanted to bless and worship his hands.  I wrote a ritual.  In the photos he txted me, his hands were often featured prominently, and I was nuts for them.  I could just lie around imagining kissing his hands.  That was my joy.

handwriting

The man I just mentioned, whose hands I wanted to worship–his handwriting made me horny also.  Handwriting is something I have a lot of feelings about.  I can like someone a lot, then see their handwriting and lose interest.  Or I can see someone I was lukewarm toward has amazing handwriting.  Suddenly I find that person appealing.

But that was the first time I ever recall wanting to come on someone’s handwriting.  Yes, the messy graffiti style gave me wild excitement.  The letters he wrote me, I could just stare at them as works of art.  The meaning of the words is important, for sure, but aside from that.

dude in a skirt

Yes, that picture of him where he’s wearing a skit, I just about died twice.  I started at that picture so much, I don’t need to look at it ever again–I memorized it.

Kilts are not skirts, and my spouse is not a dude.  But I asked my spouse if he would wear a kilt for me.  “But we couldn’t get anything done,” I said.  “I’d just be lifting your kilt and sucking your dick all day.”  He seemed ok with that.

Mexican grandpa shoes

Family pain fetish, I must admit.  I just about fainted in a parking lot one time, noticing a loved friend’s Mexican grandpa shoes gleaming in the streetlight.

breasts

What can I say.  Sorry it’s a cliche, but I like all the breasts.  My favorite are large and sagging, like mine.  But any breasts of anyone I’m charmed by.  Nipples are amazing.  Medium, small, huge.  Yes, please.

smelling good

Smelling good is not optional.  I can get instantly horny to smell a loved one.  Oh yeah, when I was a kid, I had a boyfriend who loaned me his Chinese hat.  I sniffed it over and over.

wordplay

Language makes me horny.  I wish wit didn’t mean so much.  Anyone can be clever, but I ascribe meaning.  Wordplay feels like deep connection to me, but unfortunately, the wordplayer can just be fucking around.

artists

Yes, I always get horny for artists.  People who don’t sing, paint, draw, write icons, act, make zines, sew, crochet, write, make jewelry, bead, play musical instruments, make robots, do street art, or anything creative like that–they don’t have anything to express?  I don’t understand people who don’t have that spark of life.

what makes me horny

I’ve explained generally what makes me horny, but there’s everything that makes me horny in bed also.  All the bdsm, fantasies, and sexual activities that arouse me once we’ve begun.

The meme is addressing pre-bed horny inspiration.  Probably only big boobs and smart are the bingo card items that make me horny.  Tomboy, maybe, but I wouldn’t call it that.

Thank you for learning about what makes me horny.  I enjoy sharing new truths; it was fun to articulate.  I look forward to my spouse reading this post and asking him if he’ll wear a kilt and let me play with his breasts and kiss his hands, smelling good always.