The wonderful Mistress Elita had a twitter rant recently about what she described as “whorearchical bullshit” between sex workers offering different services, particularly those who either do, or do not, offer “penis in vagina” sex. The quote marks are intended to indicate my distaste for that expression.
I am definitely not going to get involved, as these things are best left to the sex workers themselves but it got me thinking about just what is or is not “sex”. Elita doesn’t offer penetrative sex and that suits me fine. Not having the pressure to “perform” lets me give myself up to the session with a freedom that might not be there otherwise. However, a reader once commented in a DM “you never describe sex in your blogs”. I went back and read a couple and, even at a distance, the action seemed pretty hot to me. But was it sex? This is how I should have answered:
You say there’s no sex in my sessions but let me ask you this:
Is it sex when she looks deep into my eyes, then slaps my face, holding my gaze, challenging me to take it, daring me to look away; and I look back challenging her to slap me harder, daring her to hurt me more? I may have been in her apartment only a minute, but already we are deeply focussed on each other in our intimate dance of dominance and submission. Might that not be a form of sex?
Is it sex, when I can feel the soft touch of her lips round my nipple at the same time as the pain that comes from her teeth? When I’m so turned on that, as she lifts herself away, I push my chest up against the restraints, my whole body begging her to bite me again. How can something that hot not be sex?
Is it sex, when she flogs me against a hard metal frame, her whip biting into my back and my arse until I’m gasping and crying out from the pain of it, and then when she’s finished she leans the length of her body against the length of mine, touching me from my calves to my neck, a soothing presence against the bruises? At that intimate moment, would we be closer if she had let me copulate with her instead?
Is it sex, when I’m feeling her strap-on thrust deep inside me again and again, the sensation so intense I don’t know if it’s pleasure or pain; her panting from the exertion of fucking, me panting from the exertion of being fucked; her hot skin against mine. That certainly feels like sex; it sounds like sex as we’re doing it and, as we lie together afterwards, I feel the same post-coital glow that you feel after your sex.
Perhaps you’re thinking about situations I’ve described where I’m blindfold, she’s not speaking and the only connection between us is her cane. You’re thinking that can’t possibly be sex. Ah, my friend, for me, that is the most sex of all. At that moment communication between us is all felt, sensed, perceived. Our bodies may not touch but our kinks dance close, entwined around each other. Electricity crackles between the opposite poles of her dominance and my submission. That’s our sex. To be so connected to someone without being connected at all. Might that not be the purest sex of all?
The all embracing mind fuck of dominance, submission, bondage, pain, pleasure; the swirling, glorious, sensual and emotional maelstrom of it all: how can this not be sex? Two bodies, NO! Two minds, intimately intertwined; exchanging sensations, exchanging challenges, pushing each other to the limit.
So, the person asking why I don’t have sex in my posts should perhaps look at it this way: Your Sex May Not Be My Sex But Your Sex Is OK.
I know this though:
My sex is Hot as Fuck!
I had intended to read this at Eroticon but unfortunately can no longer be there on the Sunday. I decided to post it here and on Wicked Wednesday instead.
More wickedness here:
Marvellous smut, I’m glad you reposted the link.
I’m only now starting to find out how WordPress works, especially the Reader and it makes it much easier to browse your older posts.
I really think it works best this way. I’m conscious that my own writings are not about describing intercourse and that if they did, they would put the annual candidates for the Bad Sex Awards in the shade. I’m glad I’m not the only one to need to point out that sex is a very broad definition and you nicely laid the trail here.
Some wonderful descriptions here. It’s given me some ideas on how I might tackle writing about a session from a couple of months ago that was two hours of sensual CP and what that did to my head space.
melody x
Great,It looks like you are describing me!!
The way you describe “your sex” is much more expressive and enlightening than simply reading the generic stories about cocks thrusting etc etc… Your experiences are something I could never go through so your descriptions of sensations are really valuable to read and try to understand. I think what strikes me about your extracts above are how the feelings you talk about don’t involve arousal as we normally see it in men ie through a throbbing erection that must be satisfied as the ultimate goal- though you have written about orgasm before, your focus is much more on the psychological and that is fascinating to me.
Dear A
Thank you for your lovely, thoughtful comment. Often it really is about arousal. As a masochist some types of pain (particularly in my nipples) is hotwired into arousal. Elita knows that and uses it. Being caned hard might lead to the opposite response as the body brings blood to the core to protect itself. There the rewards come later. Overall though I find a heavy BDSM session (whether I am playing Dom or Sub) as much an emotional as a physical experience and that is what I am trying to reflect in my writing.
B1
Sex is what you want it to be, sex to be is not the straight in and out fuckery
To me, all of that sounds like sex. Sex, to me, isn’t only about fucking, but about so many other things too! Having a connection with someone else is even hotter than being fucked by that person.
Rebel xox