Movement
Movement has been strangely difficult lately. Things keep popping up that make me sore, make it hurt to move. I have plantar fasciitis in both feet, because my calf muscles are pulling so hard against the band of muscle in my arch. This hurts like a motherfucker, mostly in the mornings, but also after I've been walking for any period of time. Which sucks, because I do a lot of walking out here.
I got a new bed, a big gorgeous California King that I've so far shared only with cats. And it's firm as fuck, so of course it hurts to wake up every morning. I feel like I've been beat up in my dreams. I'm not gonna lie, I kind of enjoy that part. It makes stretching feel almost indecently good. I've always enjoyed a little discomfort in the morning, as a way to make the rest of the day a little more deeply beautiful. That is, of course, predicated on the assumption that the pain will go away shortly... which it normally does. It's been making me think about how I deal with disability, though, and my assumptions about the autonomy of my body. I'd like to handle anything that life throws my way with dignity and eventual joy, but man. That would be hard, to lose movement.
Well, now I feel like I'm jinxing myself. On to something else... Had a fascinating experience at the local dive bar a couple nights ago. It involved a man who I really couldn't be sure wasn't a terrible human being. There was a little taste of serial killer to his energy, though that could have just been his happily admitting to being a sociopath.. Just. Jesus, Sarah. I have his number sitting at the bottom of my purse right now. He wrote it out in front of me and handed it to me with a smug grin, while telling me that he had absolutely no doubt he'd be balls deep in my ass soon. I still get a little shiver of want in my cunt when I think about his words. But, since I also get a little shiver of discomfort in my skin when I think about his reality, I haven't called him. While our conversation was incredible; both hot and fascinating, an unusual combination for me, he told me 4 things that make him off limits for my current self.
One, that he wouldn't fuck me unless my pussy was shaved. Now, regardless of the current state of my pubic hair, nobody gets to tell me what to do with it. I fluctuate between hairless and bushy, depending on my own wants and needs. But no other human being gets to dictate any facet of what my body looks like.
Second, he brought up how disgusting period sex is, and affirmed that he would never, ever do it. He said "Whoever I'm with gets a week off.", to which I replied "She gets a week off during one of the most intensely horny and sensually vivid parts of the month.". To which he replied "I don't care, it's disgusting.", to which I replied "I'm betting you have absolutely no problem with anal to oral.", to which he replied "I can sanitize my dick in between", to which I replied "How many men do you know who are actually willing to take a wet wipe to their dick after pulling out of a womans ass and before putting their dick in her mouth?", to which he replied "...".
Third, he's the kind of dominant who gets off on youth. He kept bringing up "dark and twisted fantasies", and how I should feel safe telling him all my darkest thoughts. Which sends up a couple of red flags. First of all, people who fetishize darkness are often both boring and full of shame. Second of all, he needed to hear my thoughts before telling me his, which tells me he was afraid of how I'd react. Which fascinated me, so I manipulated him into telling me his first. And I'm sorry, but no. Telling me I'm five while shoving your dick in my mouth isn't going to do anything but make me want to kill you, and not in a sexy way. I get age play, I get a love of taboo. I really do. But no.
Fourth, he insisted that women who like being infantilized are sexy, but men who like being infantilized are pathetic. This part of the conversation came up because he was talking about how sexy it was when a woman called him daddy. I said that I don't find the daddy thing sexy, personally, but I get why a lot of people do. And then I brought up how often others have wanted to call me mommy. And he shivered with disgust, and felt compelled to point out that a "Real Man" wants to be called daddy. Because, apparently, real men want to hold on to all the authority and never let it go. Also, real men get off on little girls who may or may not be related to them. Also, real men are apes. Men who enjoy the fantasy that they've never left the care of their mothers are pathetic, but women are supposed to never want to leave the care of their fathers.
Ugh. There was a lot of ugh in that conversation. The Daddy/Mommy thing is complex and can be a lot of fun in the right context. But it's not my kink. And violent machismo based on fear and a complete lack of connection to any of the Divine Feminine is REALLY not my kink. I like my partners to be adults, in the best sense of that word.
So, I haven't called him. There's a part of me that wants to, because he'd be a very quick and easy violent fuck. And a part of me just needs a quick and easy violent fuck. She's not in ascendance at the moment, which is good. The part of me that wants a quick and easy fuck without the violence is, and she's obviously a bit more picky. I've been attracting some serious strange over the past couple of weeks, getting hit on wherever I go by potential partners who play to very specific facets of my self. So far, none of them have played to the healthy part of me, so none of them have gotten laid.
I got a new bed, a big gorgeous California King that I've so far shared only with cats. And it's firm as fuck, so of course it hurts to wake up every morning. I feel like I've been beat up in my dreams. I'm not gonna lie, I kind of enjoy that part. It makes stretching feel almost indecently good. I've always enjoyed a little discomfort in the morning, as a way to make the rest of the day a little more deeply beautiful. That is, of course, predicated on the assumption that the pain will go away shortly... which it normally does. It's been making me think about how I deal with disability, though, and my assumptions about the autonomy of my body. I'd like to handle anything that life throws my way with dignity and eventual joy, but man. That would be hard, to lose movement.
Well, now I feel like I'm jinxing myself. On to something else... Had a fascinating experience at the local dive bar a couple nights ago. It involved a man who I really couldn't be sure wasn't a terrible human being. There was a little taste of serial killer to his energy, though that could have just been his happily admitting to being a sociopath.. Just. Jesus, Sarah. I have his number sitting at the bottom of my purse right now. He wrote it out in front of me and handed it to me with a smug grin, while telling me that he had absolutely no doubt he'd be balls deep in my ass soon. I still get a little shiver of want in my cunt when I think about his words. But, since I also get a little shiver of discomfort in my skin when I think about his reality, I haven't called him. While our conversation was incredible; both hot and fascinating, an unusual combination for me, he told me 4 things that make him off limits for my current self.
One, that he wouldn't fuck me unless my pussy was shaved. Now, regardless of the current state of my pubic hair, nobody gets to tell me what to do with it. I fluctuate between hairless and bushy, depending on my own wants and needs. But no other human being gets to dictate any facet of what my body looks like.
Second, he brought up how disgusting period sex is, and affirmed that he would never, ever do it. He said "Whoever I'm with gets a week off.", to which I replied "She gets a week off during one of the most intensely horny and sensually vivid parts of the month.". To which he replied "I don't care, it's disgusting.", to which I replied "I'm betting you have absolutely no problem with anal to oral.", to which he replied "I can sanitize my dick in between", to which I replied "How many men do you know who are actually willing to take a wet wipe to their dick after pulling out of a womans ass and before putting their dick in her mouth?", to which he replied "...".
Third, he's the kind of dominant who gets off on youth. He kept bringing up "dark and twisted fantasies", and how I should feel safe telling him all my darkest thoughts. Which sends up a couple of red flags. First of all, people who fetishize darkness are often both boring and full of shame. Second of all, he needed to hear my thoughts before telling me his, which tells me he was afraid of how I'd react. Which fascinated me, so I manipulated him into telling me his first. And I'm sorry, but no. Telling me I'm five while shoving your dick in my mouth isn't going to do anything but make me want to kill you, and not in a sexy way. I get age play, I get a love of taboo. I really do. But no.
Fourth, he insisted that women who like being infantilized are sexy, but men who like being infantilized are pathetic. This part of the conversation came up because he was talking about how sexy it was when a woman called him daddy. I said that I don't find the daddy thing sexy, personally, but I get why a lot of people do. And then I brought up how often others have wanted to call me mommy. And he shivered with disgust, and felt compelled to point out that a "Real Man" wants to be called daddy. Because, apparently, real men want to hold on to all the authority and never let it go. Also, real men get off on little girls who may or may not be related to them. Also, real men are apes. Men who enjoy the fantasy that they've never left the care of their mothers are pathetic, but women are supposed to never want to leave the care of their fathers.
Ugh. There was a lot of ugh in that conversation. The Daddy/Mommy thing is complex and can be a lot of fun in the right context. But it's not my kink. And violent machismo based on fear and a complete lack of connection to any of the Divine Feminine is REALLY not my kink. I like my partners to be adults, in the best sense of that word.
So, I haven't called him. There's a part of me that wants to, because he'd be a very quick and easy violent fuck. And a part of me just needs a quick and easy violent fuck. She's not in ascendance at the moment, which is good. The part of me that wants a quick and easy fuck without the violence is, and she's obviously a bit more picky. I've been attracting some serious strange over the past couple of weeks, getting hit on wherever I go by potential partners who play to very specific facets of my self. So far, none of them have played to the healthy part of me, so none of them have gotten laid.
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