Yesterday, in my current searching, or as some might prefer.. midlife crisis… I went for a sexuality consultation.
I thought that I would spend my time talking about woohoo taboo sex I wanted to try, and all the things I fear expressing, like some desire for anal fisting, or more…
It was not about that. Nope. My erotic is so bland, my friends. And yet, it thrills me beyond belief to think of it.
I had the task of writing down my deepest desires–not sexual, mind you, but emotional. My very skilled sexuality counselor, whose name I want permission to reveal, took me on a journey that I hardly expected when I entered the doors of her Center. I started talking about.. well.. why? Why I was there?
I had come, because sex was always a problem. Wasn’t it? Was it for you? Were you slut shamed? I was. Oh yes, I was, and yet.. and yet, it was not about that.
She told me that the top three desires according to studies are: to be seen, to be craved, and to know that what we are doing is exciting to our partner. Really. Not blow jobs, after all. We desire authenticity and vulnerability. And I do, too.
I thought of this, in the context of all my recent wildness, and what more of that, to me, the intimacy I have found in it. I want my lover, so much. But I want the little things.
Oh god, I want his glasses on my nightstand when I roll over at 6am when the light stream into the bedroom. I want him to roll closer to me in the middle of the night, and grab me close to him, not out of desire, but out of instinct. I want to drink wine with him in the kitchen while I make us dinner. I want him to text me something funny he thought of in the middle of the day. I crave this simplicity so much, it moves me, and yet it seems so faraway and hard to ask for. This is my erotic. Really. This is what I want.
I think of this, sometimes, when I see people who have loved one another for years and years. They grab onto these things, these precious tangible bits of everyday life, as though they are gems. And they are, they truly are.
I want to fuck, but wild sex seems so easy, really. It may not be so obvious to the rest of the world, I guess. It freaks guys out to have a woman start to explore their asshole.. sometimes. But I would do that. I would spread my legs, and fuck a bunch of men mindlessly to turn you on. What turns me on is to watch you brush your teeth.
I wonder why, I do. I wonder why I feel so hot and bothered and horny beyond belief at these small, ordinary things.
And I know: it makes me feel safe to watch your tedium; it sets me free.