I love queer sex, and am not keen on straight sex. But maybe it’s a false distinction? That’s what I’m pondering today. I think of queer sex as dynamic–it changes mid-scene and over the years creative–we have to do different things than insert a tab into a slot showing up as my whole self transformative–it
As you prepare to leave, I prepare to live without you. You’ll always be in my heart, but maybe never again in my day-to-day life. I’m pondering our whole friendship. These are sweet memories of my favorite times with you. hand massage At the meeting when I invited you to massage my hands, was it
About a third of the way through having sex with my spouse yesterday, I started crying. It was such intense, beautiful sex–I didn’t want to derail it with down emotions. Crying during sex is becoming a thing, lately. I know why–it’s partly the validation need I was talking about last post. As things change in
I’ve thought of sex as validation for much of my life. Yes–sex as validation physically with the body. Another person decided I am good enough to fuck. Their body is slamming into mine in an explicit, hungry way–I know I matter to them. These intense sensations and feelings shared mean something. To me, they mean
Here’s a list of my sex gratitude. respect Thank you for caring about my well-being, pleasure, and safety. Thank you for caring about my whole life including before you arrived on the scene, and if there’s time that I live without you. Your responsible kindness–in bed and outside of bed–makes me want you. I want