Ichi
I went to a party last night at this place called Club Sesso. Ron Jeremys Club Sesso. It was a good ol' fashioned swingers club, complete with lots of private rooms, lots of not so private rooms, a GIANT bed in the middle of the upstairs loft area, and lots of smarmy single men swarming around not so many women.
I felt a bit like I'd stepped back into the 70s. BUT, it was a party for kinksters, so there were some distinctly none 70s elements, such as a complete dungeon, a shibari suspension demonstration, and lots of spanking going on.
It was interesting. I was expecting it to be a lot ickier than it was. I've avoided this place, even though it's hosted some events I've been interested in, because I expected it to attract a lot of douchbags. And the douchbags were there. But they were outnumbered by the kinksters who, as a group, tend to be very nerdy, and very respectful of others boundaries. I went with a friend, because she wanted to check it out and didn't want to go alone. We were just going to drink and watch, not participate.
Which is exactly what I told the very nice japanese businessman type who was asking me if I liked to get spanked. When he persisted, I was honest and told him I was more of a top, and that he was too undefined for me to be interested in interacting with him. He didn't know what he wanted, he just WANTED. Eventually, it comes out that he does know what he wants, which is to be dominated, but apparently was laboring under the impression that that was something to be ashamed of. Even less attractive. So, just as I'm giving him the brushoff, trying to be kind by telling him I had come here with someone and we had agreed not to desert each other, my friend comes up behind me with a cute guy in tow and says "Give me half an hour" with a giant grin on her face.
Shit.
I turn back to this guy, and he's got a giant grin on HIS face. "So, now you don't have to worry about your friend".
"I, uh, I need a drink. I'll be back in a bit". Whereupon I abandon my dignity and run to the bar, then into the bathroom. Where I spend the next 15 minutes talking to some friends of mine who are trans, and having a VERY good time at this party. Lots of free drinks and love. Bitches.
Part of the reason I didn't just give this guy the complete brush off is because I kind of felt I SHOULD be attracted to him. He was hot. He looked like Ichi the Killer, minus the scary scars, with either prematurely gray hair or a VERY young face. He was tall, he was aggressive, and he wasn't a moron. Part of me, the part that's been ready to kill or fuck something for the past couple of days, was pretty sure this was a perfect opportunity to avoid the killing.
But I WASN'T attracted to him. I felt no connection to him whatsoever. And that bugged me. I went back upstairs to stand at the railing and watch everyone else, and he found me again. This time, when he got aggressive, I put my hand out and told him I didn't think we had any chemistry, that I felt no connection with him and wasn't interested in sex. Whereupon he relaxed. And started talking. About interesting things. Such as the fact that he recently opened a club in my neighborhood because he's always been fascinated by the idea of helping people connect, with connections in general. And, suddenly, I was very attracted to him. I was absolutely convinced we could have a LOT of fun.
And then my friend showed up, still wearing a shit eating (not literally) grin, and wanting to go dancing.
Bitch.
But I wanted to go dancing too, it was midnight, and if we didn't leave soon we weren't going to make it. So, I took my regretful leave of Ichi the not Killer, and went dancing. Taking out all of my frustration on the dance floor.
It was interesting to me that I felt nothing but nervous around this guy till we'd actually made some sort of connection. Part of me believes that sex is connection enough, that I should be able to see a physically attractive human being and feel attraction enough to want to fuck them. That the sex itself should create whatever bonds I feel necessary. But that's never been the case, and apparently is never going to be the case. I've yet to be able to feel physical attraction for someone I don't have at least a good conversation with. They don't have to be brilliant, but my brain has to at least approve somewhat about something about them. I've been attracted to some world class douchbags before, who weren't even that good looking, but my brain and my body both found something interesting about them. Eh. It's interesting.
I felt a bit like I'd stepped back into the 70s. BUT, it was a party for kinksters, so there were some distinctly none 70s elements, such as a complete dungeon, a shibari suspension demonstration, and lots of spanking going on.
It was interesting. I was expecting it to be a lot ickier than it was. I've avoided this place, even though it's hosted some events I've been interested in, because I expected it to attract a lot of douchbags. And the douchbags were there. But they were outnumbered by the kinksters who, as a group, tend to be very nerdy, and very respectful of others boundaries. I went with a friend, because she wanted to check it out and didn't want to go alone. We were just going to drink and watch, not participate.
Which is exactly what I told the very nice japanese businessman type who was asking me if I liked to get spanked. When he persisted, I was honest and told him I was more of a top, and that he was too undefined for me to be interested in interacting with him. He didn't know what he wanted, he just WANTED. Eventually, it comes out that he does know what he wants, which is to be dominated, but apparently was laboring under the impression that that was something to be ashamed of. Even less attractive. So, just as I'm giving him the brushoff, trying to be kind by telling him I had come here with someone and we had agreed not to desert each other, my friend comes up behind me with a cute guy in tow and says "Give me half an hour" with a giant grin on her face.
Shit.
I turn back to this guy, and he's got a giant grin on HIS face. "So, now you don't have to worry about your friend".
"I, uh, I need a drink. I'll be back in a bit". Whereupon I abandon my dignity and run to the bar, then into the bathroom. Where I spend the next 15 minutes talking to some friends of mine who are trans, and having a VERY good time at this party. Lots of free drinks and love. Bitches.
Part of the reason I didn't just give this guy the complete brush off is because I kind of felt I SHOULD be attracted to him. He was hot. He looked like Ichi the Killer, minus the scary scars, with either prematurely gray hair or a VERY young face. He was tall, he was aggressive, and he wasn't a moron. Part of me, the part that's been ready to kill or fuck something for the past couple of days, was pretty sure this was a perfect opportunity to avoid the killing.
But I WASN'T attracted to him. I felt no connection to him whatsoever. And that bugged me. I went back upstairs to stand at the railing and watch everyone else, and he found me again. This time, when he got aggressive, I put my hand out and told him I didn't think we had any chemistry, that I felt no connection with him and wasn't interested in sex. Whereupon he relaxed. And started talking. About interesting things. Such as the fact that he recently opened a club in my neighborhood because he's always been fascinated by the idea of helping people connect, with connections in general. And, suddenly, I was very attracted to him. I was absolutely convinced we could have a LOT of fun.
And then my friend showed up, still wearing a shit eating (not literally) grin, and wanting to go dancing.
Bitch.
But I wanted to go dancing too, it was midnight, and if we didn't leave soon we weren't going to make it. So, I took my regretful leave of Ichi the not Killer, and went dancing. Taking out all of my frustration on the dance floor.
It was interesting to me that I felt nothing but nervous around this guy till we'd actually made some sort of connection. Part of me believes that sex is connection enough, that I should be able to see a physically attractive human being and feel attraction enough to want to fuck them. That the sex itself should create whatever bonds I feel necessary. But that's never been the case, and apparently is never going to be the case. I've yet to be able to feel physical attraction for someone I don't have at least a good conversation with. They don't have to be brilliant, but my brain has to at least approve somewhat about something about them. I've been attracted to some world class douchbags before, who weren't even that good looking, but my brain and my body both found something interesting about them. Eh. It's interesting.
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