Monday, January 7, 2013

My Sexuality



I never made a habit of looking at porn. In fact, I didn't even see a pornographic image until after I lost my virginity.

Every time I masturbated, I used my imagination. Eyes shut, fantasies whirring... I thought about rape. I thought about being trapped in a confined space with a man. I thought about being held down and restrained- tied to a tree, cuffed to a desk...

At fifteen, I discovered www.literotica.com. It's an erotic story publishing site, for amateur writers. There are categories for every fetish imaginable. This is the site I used exclusively for masturbatory material until a year ago... What can I say? I'm a creature of habit.

I read about a lot of weird stuff. I mean weird. Stuff so strange and disconcerting it's going to have to wait for another post. I have another direction to explore right now.

Every now and then I'd come across a story so hot, I would cum to it for days. Then I'd read any sequels or follow-ups it had. Then I'd go to the author's page and read all their other entries, sometimes with luck- sometimes not. The point is, there were a number of stories that struck me as irresistibly arousing, and they all had ONE thing in common.

They were written from the perspective of the man.

The way he viewed the woman in front of him, the parts of her body he noticed and why. What he wanted to do to her. How badly he wanted it...

Sometimes while touching myself, I'd imagine the thoughts streaming through a man's brain. What especially turned me on was the thought of a man losing control.. I once read a story about a man who escaped from prison. He was hiding in a tree and spied a woman in a bikini sunning herself nearby. Unable to stop himself, he attacked her. Forced himself on her- took her brutally and came quickly..

Then again, sometimes there was nothing sexier than a man plotting... spying a woman, planning to abduct her or seduce her... imagining what her body would feel like and laying a trap. Or setting a camera and masturbating to her image.

I sometimes implement this mind-spying in my real life. When G's looking between my legs or bending me over, I wonder what he's thinking. What it is that's turning him on. Just the sight of my pussy?

How incredible is it that a man- a person- can simply look at a basic part of human anatomy and achieve arousal? I can't do it. I can't look at a person's ass or breasts or cock and... get wet. It's just a body. Skin and tissue and bone. What turns me on are situations and thoughts.

Anyway, there's a reason I never told anyone about this. This- sneaking into a man's brain. I didn't want to tell ANYONE because I feared whoever I told would think one thing: that I was a man trapped inside a woman's body.

And I'm not! I swear I'm not! I like being a girl. I like having a vagina. I even like wearing high heels, which means I'm definitely on board with estrogen. Bleeding once a month and hating myself during puberty are small prices to pay for the myriad of perks I enjoy every day for being a lady.

I've never heard of another woman who thinks this way, and I'm scared to discuss it so frankly now- even anonymously. There's somehow shame tied into it.. but my thinking began to alter several months ago.

G and I had our first threesome. I met a woman who graciously accepted our invitation to bed, and we spent an evening in a hotel together. She'd never been dominated. I'd never seen my lover sleep with another woman. I'd never had sex in front of someone else. It was a night of firsts.

I was nervous. Once in high school, a friend told me she knew a woman who consented to a threesome with her husband. She thought she'd be ok with it, but when she actually saw her husband fucking another woman- it destroyed her. She felt damaged by it. The images haunted her. I don't think the marriage ever truly recovered.

What if that happened to me? I thought I'd be ok with it, but what if I was wrong? What if I had an unforeseen emotional response that made me feel crushed? I knew there was a chance things would go horribly awry, and that would be the end of G and me....  Then something happened.

It was phenomenal!

The moment he first reached for her, I felt a surge of excitement. When he kissed her, I was awestruck. As he dominated her.. hitting her and zapping her and holding her by the hair, I was awash with emotions. Shock. Delight. Pride. Heat. I saw her responding the way I responded to G. I was proud to deliver his prowess to my new friend. I was proud to deliver a new toy to him.

This new viewpoint.. knowing them both and watching them interact. Seeing how they responded to each other. God, it was fascinating! A few times I found myself wishing they didn't know I was in the room. I thought they kept glancing at me, possibly making sure I was ok or enjoying myself. But the thought that I was in their heads took me out of it. Just that one night, I wanted to be a fly on the wall. The novelty and my reaction to it was so overwhelming.. at one point I was sitting on the floor by the bed, on top of which she was riding him. I remember surreptitiously rubbing myself, sneakily masturbating because I didn't want to steal focus. I didn't want to distract them in any way.

Have you ever been stunned at what turned you on? It's a good feeling. Like a door's opening into a vast room you didn't know existed, one filled with fun possibilities...

How could I like watching them? I'm not a voyeur. I just explained that the visual doesn't do it for me. If I was looking at the same two people fucking - only they were total strangers- I'd be bored.

During a phone conversation a few weeks ago, G made a comment to me. For the first time in my life, I mentioned preferring dirty stories from the perspectives of men. And he said he wasn't surprised, because I was "fascinated by male sexuality." It was such a simple and harmless way to describe me. It was true! And it was simple. And it was harmless. And it was true.

The more I meditated on that, the more other things started to make sense... My first trip to a strip club was with G, a brief visit on our way out of town. We only stayed a few minutes, but I was far more interested in watching G watch the girls, than I was in watching the girls themselves. I wanted to see where his eyes trailed- what part of them was he looking at? Which girls did he prefer?

When I'm alone with a woman and we're fooling around, I imagine G watching. I wonder if it would turn him on. Sometimes when the girl is on top of me, I picture G on top of her. Sometimes I get excited at the idea of telling him what we did the next day.

I felt terrible about this the first few times it happened. As though I was one of those insufferable women who only pretended to be bisexual, so they could excite the men around them. I hate those women. But if imagining a man's reaction simply heightens an experience I already find erotic, I don't think I'm guilty of this.

And there's something else...  The other day at work, there was this cute receptionist in the break room. She bent over, extracting a cup of yogurt from the fridge. As she straightened, I stared at her. She was very short and had this cute rounded bottom, clearly outlined by her stretchy black pants. I noticed the way her breasts jutted out, emphasized by her long dark hair cascading over one side... I found myself wondering what G would notice about her. Wondering if he'd be aroused. Wondering what he would imagine doing to her...

And yeah, it turned me on.

This is common for me. When I see an attractive woman now, I think of G’s reaction to her. I imagine what it would take to get her into his bed. I used to feel so shitty about this, because I was this traitorous, faux- bisexual trickster- pathetically desperate to please her man, at the expense of the innocent women around her.

But that’s not what it is! I’m realizing now.. these thoughts, these impulses, turn ME on. Sure, G benefits. But I’m not doing them or wanting them for only his pleasure. I want them for my own. To keep denying that is to repress my own sexuality.

G has become my conduit to the male sexual psyche. Now instead of ambiguous imaginary men, I have this one real person to channel my fantasies through. Specificity is always more satisfying then generality. And G is perfect because he's a dog. He notices women constantly. He considers them frequently. And occasionally... he fucks them. I adore his fixation. I want a man so in love with pussy he wants all of it...

I don’t know why I’m this way.

I didn’t think I was a cuckquean, because I assumed all cuckqueans wanted to be demeaned and humiliated by the act of her partner being with someone else. (I’ve learned this assumption is untrue). And I didn’t think I was a voyeur, because I’m not a visual person.

But if wanting your man to sleep with other women, while not sleeping with other men yourself, makes you a cuckquean- then yup. Ok, that’s me. And if getting off to watching certain sexual acts makes you a voyeur, then fine- ok fine, maybe I’m that, too. (Although I’m not really sold here, because my watching has to occur during some some pretty specific circumstances).

However I label myself, I'm curious to know if anyone relates. I don’t think anyone likes feeling alone in their desires.

Xox
KC

2 comments:

  1. I thoroughly enjoyed reading this. Your G's insight into your driving motivation, being "fascinated by male sexuality", I believe to be spot on in your situation as well as my own. I am surprised how much of this I can relate to...and yes, as with me also, I've tried to get the same "feeling" from just watching any couple engage sexually but it doesn't give any results, it has to be the one I desire, love and respect involved. Now if that relationship that I'm in begins to deteriorate for whatever reason, the fantasy also seems to deteriorate until I find someone new...fall in love...and the whole cycle begins again. Also, I've found that for me, I need to see it all play out. I enjoy the pangs of jealousy emmensely and it only makes me want him more. The eye contact is very important to me as I love to see the arousal and passion and I feel more connected and involved with the encounter. I am NOT turned on with the potential emotional element that could develop between a man I love and the women he's screwing...to me that's betrayal. I am only aroused by the purely physical, raw sex

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  2. There used to be a group on experienceproject.com where women identified as "miraesses". The word miraess was said to come from latin, and meant getting sexual pleasure from watching one's lover have sex with others. The story posted by the group's founder said that the new word was created because "cuck" is associated with humiliation, and "voyeur" is associated with secrecy. It sounds like what you're describing. I'm not sure how many people use "miraess", though.

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