Sex & Sox

My passions: Sex and the Boston Red Sox!

Friday, November 19, 2004

They Call Me Sparky 'Cause I Brighten Up When They Say 'Sex'

First off... a huge thank you to everyone that's stopped by and commented in the last few days. A lot of us run blogs and it's always nice to know that someone's taken the time to read and provide feedback on yours. I've visited every link provided (and ones that I didn't already have are bookmarked in my "Sex & Sox Visitors" folder) and very much appreciate it.

Now, on to a few confessions and a rant.

Confession #1: I'm not a big follower of off-season news. That is, I'll check
BDD when I wake up and before I go to bed, and I'll read other people's blogs, but that's it. I don't go swinging around the sports news sites or turning on ESPN or any of that other stuff; I'm perfectly content to hear it second-hand.

Confession #2: I'm not really interested in trade rumours. What happens, happens, and while it might absolutely blow at the moment (I was depressed over Nomar for awhile), next game we'll all be back, and we'll be in love all over again.

Confession #3: I sleep naked. So does my boyfriend.
Our dog shares the bed with us. He sleeps under the covers, usually towards the foot of the bed. The other night, however, he decided to curl up right between my legs, with his head resting atop my left thigh. He was so warm that I didn't tell him to move.

Confession #4: I don't mind being objectified. Seriously. I know it's some big feminist deal, that to be liberated and considered equal in this world woman must not consent to
being viewed as a sexual object, nor as a maternal one. It drives me nuts that women are encouraged to look at the world this way if they want to 'get ahead'.

If I wear a corset, if I watch and enjoy porn, if I fantasize about being a mother, a lover, and a successful worker all at once, I'm degrading women? If I'm not hard-edged, I'm less of a woman? If I uphold my male companion as the center of my universe and try my best to keep him happy, while we both look out for each other, which results in more respect for one another, I'm not today's ideal of feminism?

Fuck that. I'd rather be happy than try to uphold some feminist ideal.

My best friend in high school had a huge... "revelation" after she graduated. She shaved her head, stopped shaving everywhere else, became a total vegan, and basically took all your concepts of what makes a woman and turned them on their head. Her 'boyfriend' (though she never used that term, of course) stopped SHOWERING. Why? Well, because not only was she not going to be your 'typical' woman, neither of them were going to be your 'typical' person. They weren't going to be just another one of the crowd, conforming to societal norms.

While this altogether upset me (I wear makeup most of the time when I go out, I shave my legs, my armpits and elsewhere, I take excellent care of my hair, I dress in whatever way makes me feel nicest and if that happens to be found 'sexy' by other people, so be it), I still wanted to be her friend. I wanted to hear that other perspective, and find what I could learn from it.

The first time she and I saw each other after I met my current beau, she was disgusted by the fact that I enjoyed sex so much. "What's so... great about it?" she asked. "I mean, it's kind of a waste of time, you're not trying to have kids or anything." Hearing such a traditional view out of someone who upheld herself as unconventional made my jaw drop. She was thrilled at my bisexual tendencies (something we'd explored together in high school, once or twice) but not, apparently, at my other tastes. When I told her (admittedly, I was trying to get a rise out of her) that I enjoy being bent over, smacked on the ass, talked dirty to, that I had dildos and restraints and feathers, she just shook her head and said, "I can't believe you let someone have that much control over you."

Control? While sex is completely separate from love, I don't see it as being a loss of control. She's telling me that because my hands and arms are bound, because my lover's teasing me with lips and tongue and ice, because I'm blindfolded, I have no control? I don't even see sex as a control game, but... who is pleasing whom in that scenario? If I say 'stop' (or a control word: you should always have a control word when experimenting with BDSM), he'll stop... but I have no control?

Sex is, ideally, consensual. It is, ideally, something for all people involved to derive pleasure from. It is an exercise in self-confidence and self-expression; at least, that is how I view it. It's spiritual and physical fulfillment all at once, whether it's slow and languorous, quick and ferocious, whether it's oral, anal, vaginal, whether it's with yourself, a toy, same sex, opposite sex, single partner, multiple partners, someone you're committed to or someone you'll never see again... and while control may play a part in your sex life, it's not the object of it.

"Man, yesterday I peed on this chick's ass. She was so my bitch."

What's more important about that? The momentary 'control'? Or the experimentation? The experience? (Just for the record, I've not had any sort of excretement or urine involved in my sex life, nor do I intend to... but, if my man wanted to try it [he's told me he doesn't], I would be open to it.) To me, it's the two latter ideas: you're getting to know yourself, your partner, what you take pleasure in, and how to better shape that pleasure.

Maybe I'm just a hedonist. Who knows.