Some examples of what can get me off–hmm, it’s embarrassing. But here I am to do the good work of truth. Vulnerability is my extra middle name.
I wanted to talk more about what makes me horny, after that bingo card post. Those things were pre-bed–this is more what can get me off when sex has begun, including what I think about while masturbating.
What can get me off includes transgression like the wrongness of adultery. Not that I want that in real life. Something about a passion that overrides decency and agreements can be hot.
I saw a porn long ago where this white guy was the new neighbor. This hot Latina lady was like, “I saw you here in your garage–I wanted to welcome you to the neighborhood.” She touches him suggestively. Her copious breasts are spilling out of her shirt. She smiles with sexy kindness.
He resists like, “Uh, I have a girlfriend.” But she is so hot and persistent. He ends up losing his boundary resolve as he thinks with his dick, and he fucks her thoroughly and happily in his garage.
Then the oops afterward, like what do I do–I just cheated on my girlfriend with my neighbor, who’s going to be nearby all the time.
I saw this porn maybe 12 years ago, and it’s still in my head, probably because neighbor-ness interests me. And I liked the woman who’s the sexually assertive one, and doesn’t need love or longterm anything, just looking for sexual pleasure in a friendly, animal way. Part of me wishes I could be like that.
It’s not what I want for my life, but perfect to fantasize about and get off on.
my own trauma
Yes, how I started doing any bdsm at all was reenacting my own trauma to defuse it, and getting off on that. It could be as simple as remembering some violation fleetingly during vanilla sex, in a way that gets me closer to orgasm.
Or it can be detailed, emotional, planned out collaborative reenacting that takes me deeply to a bad place, and I feel intense sexual pleasure there and orgasm. The situation gets transformed in my mind, from something terrible to something safer. I come out of the experience like waking up from a dream, my body flooded with joy chemicals, and my spouse with me, to hold me and care for me lovingly. Yes, I can feel all that, survive it, and be ok.
Maybe it’s like EMDR, where the trauma gets moved to a different part of my brain? Or it’s just not as potentially destructive anymore. My spouse was really good at that, when I needed it the most, those first two years we were together. I’d never asked anyone to hurt me before I asked him, and it really helped.
content warning: consensual impact, pretend violence
Asking him to hit me, and him following through with that in a trustworthy way, was very intimate. I could ask him to slap my face, call me specific names, and have consensual non-consent sex with me with all that entails, and it went very well. That’s trust-building, that I could ask for that, and it was always wonderful.
I’m grateful for his bravery, to consensually hit me, restrain me, act out scenarios, use a safeword, and do other bdsm things that some people would consider edgy. We didn’t get into the relationship with that in mind, so extra props to him for being flexible, willing to meet my needs for healing through pretend violence.
Props to me as well, for bravely going there also. Letting myself do that was a great joy, and my spouse’s kindness was a big part of that. But I had to do the work of self-trust also.
“Do you like that dick?” is a question that I really enjoy being asked, in regular life and in my imagination. Just those few words can do a lot.
“Do you want my body?” can be nice–yes, I do.
“Does that feel good?” is multipurpose. It can get me off, but can also be helpful to check in.
You’re beautiful, I love you, that feels so good, and other positive, caring messages of feedback can help me feel secure in what we’re doing. Then I can feel safe to come, give more, and do more with this kind partner.
I like to ask for what I want, say “yes, please” to assure someone I like what they’re doing, express appreciation with words as well as wordless sounds, and tell someone, “I really like that.”
Language can help me feel closer to someone and gives me something to hold onto. Weird, huh, that I’m doing this physical thing and holding onto another person with my body–possibly my arms, legs, mouth. But language is something that I also want to hold onto. Well, I’m a languagey person. I can do a few things at once.
Mattering to someone is important for me to feel safe enough to go the full distance of sexual possibility. The last person I had sexual anything with besides my spouse, I couldn’t go far because we hadn’t had a conversation about needs, STIs, or anything about safety. Safer sex is about not transmitting STIs, but I need to be safe emotionally.
So I couldn’t go far, and I’m glad since he rejected me the next day anyway. I’m crazy–anything that knocks me off balance is dangerous. My goals of intimacy, pleasure, closeness, and being real with people are important to me, and never at my expense. I can’t end up in the hospital because some jackass uses me, activates my trauma, then continues on his merry way.
I’m glad I didn’t make myself any more vulnerable than I did, since I didn’t matter to him. The recovery would have been even worse, if I’d gone down on him, watched him masturbate, gotten him off by hand, or done anything with his dick. I need to matter to someone enough that they’ll have a difficult conversation with me, at bare minimum.
Then once a conversation about our sexual needs and safety has happened, we can begin a journey together, doing something important. I can understand I matter to someone as they matter to me, and I can give myself to them fully. It’s sweet and there’s nothing like that.
I think about emotional containers. If the container is floppy-edged and confusing, it will cave in or leak if we put too much into it. The container needs to be flexible enough to hold whatever we want to put it in, but strong with some structure also.
Strength of a container is built with communication, follow through, affection, and anything that feels trustworthy and reliable. And then the flexibility can be found in sense of humor, forgiveness, openness to new ideas and possibilities, creativity.
Feels good to spell out what can get me off, in bed. I could share more details, but those are the main categories. Well, I can like the sound of a bed hitting the wall, the sound of being slapped, pain mixed with my pleasure. Sweet mixed with nasty, subspace–everything about it.
What gets you off in bed? Some people like viewing porn in bed, or have needs about lighting. Some people might like music or lots of gear, like whips or restraint furniture. Costuming, lingerie, and props don’t do a lot for me. Voyeurism can be hot, but I don’t have much experience with it. I’d enjoy learning more about what works for others.