Those who have been here before will know I have an inbuilt resistance towards posting pictures of myself. Anywhere. It’s not because I think I’m ugly, misshapen or unattractive. I think it’s just because I’m the opposite of an exhibitionist, whatever that might be. I’m not an inhibitionist, I don’t think I have hang up or are inhibited as such. I’m uncomfortable posting my picture and, yes I like my words to stand for themselves (yay! Venusian reference!) without my physical attributes accredited to my sentiment. It’s about judgement isn’t it? Yes, to a degree.
What would you say to a 90 year old discussing her vagina? Or a 17 year old musing that she has had a fair amount of experience sexually. It’s a bit weird to say the least? Without a picture in your head to attribute my thoughts to, you can choose your own picture to place me in, is this not better? I’m sure any image you find pleasing is far better then the reality.
I greatly resist looking at those glossy covers on novels, turn them over an there’s often a picture of the author. Their picture takes something away from their writing, I’m not sure how but I can see them creating the fiction, their brow furrowed in thought as the images flow. Somehow that lessens my visualisation of their work.
If I want you to read what I’m saying from the standpoint of just reading my words and the images they bring forth in your imagination, does knowing what I look like alter your perception? Or is the desire to picture me heightened by the experience of reading what I write?
This comes down to my inner desire to be seen for the thoughts beyond the flesh, a thinking, sexual woman, no other tags need apply. Age, skin colour, the look in my eye, the twist of my mouth, it’s immaterial to what I’m trying to convey. I think I feel the need to be a sentient being, seen through my words rather than posting pictures of my intimate parts is due to not wanting to distract from who I am. In this place, I’m not trappede by my body, my mind soars. It’s a personal thing.
I know other bloggers with an exhibitionist streak post words and pictures to incredible effect, stirring readers beyond anything I could ever achieve. I’m even a little jealous of the gratification they reap from this. It must feel incredible. Like with so many things though, I have to admit to myself, this is not for me. I’ve pushed my boundaries on this in the past, here on this blog and I can’t say I’m happy, even with these tame images being present.
I did scan through tumblr thinking about putting a picture on this post as I so often do… It seemed wrong given the subject matter.
I’ve been asked;
Is it the thought of sex or sex itself that is more powerful for you?
It’s an intriguing question, one which I have spent a fair amount of time considering.
The thoughts of sex?
I do think about sex a lot, sex and entanglement, of emotion, of desire. The flirtatious firsts, kissing, touching, words spoken, body language, the unwritten signs, sexual chemistry. The inner workings, thought patterns, lack of thought patterns. Deeper still; the movement, texture, smell, sound. At some point during everything I write I pause and think, what is she thinking, did he like that, is this working…
What turns me on, what turns me off…
Scenarios of sex play through my mind, stories need to brew until they over boiling from my head. I actually find it hard to write to a prompt or on a specific day, for personal reasons writing erotica on a Friday or at the weekend is much harder for me. Which is why I try extra hard to join in with the prompted time related writing – it’s the masochistic streak in me.
Words fill my mind, I find a lot of writers don’t read, to a degree I’m guilty of that too, I have my favourite blogs that I try (and usually fail) to keep up with, they are not all erotic blogs, often human interest – people intrigue me, will she, won’t she, has he? These thoughts are ultimately about sex (or money.)
I have a deep passion for carefully constructed seductive words. If I find an erotic writer who articulately expresses their writing in a way that makes my mind reel and body react I will read everything they write. Words go through my head and my body follows. The way to my passion is through words. I appreciate their danger like so few others.
Thoughts of sex are extremely powerful. In my head sex is exciting and positive, enthralling and beguiling. Nothing ever turns me off because I won’t let it happen, it’s all rose tinted and perfect even when it’s messy and squelchy, dirty and nasty – it all flows perfectly.
Is fabulous, it contains everything my kookie mind dreams up because I do like putting my thoughts into actions, my other half is open to suggestions but to be honest he is just as good at coming up with ideas and feeling how he goes as I am.
Putting him aside for a moment and considering the question from the angle my friend wanted to know about.
Sex actually can be hard to get right, so many things can let you down. New partners although exciting a prospect do not flow like holywood movie stars, not everything will click, whilst this can be fun to fathom out it can also be difficult if you don’t know how to communicate your need, how do you say ‘actually that isn’t working’ in the full throng of fellatio ;-0
Someone says the wrong thing, misinterprets your mood, bodily functions interrupt the atmosphere. There might be too much light, not enough light, the music isn’t getting you off, you drank too much, you didn’t drink enough!
As I have said before, I’m a Venusian and things on Venus are much more refined then on Mars, or Earth for that matter, can a woman who dreams of perfect ever expect that to happen in real life with all it’s uncomfortable limb entangled, misunderstanding, farting, coughing, finding a stray pubic hair in your mouth mess that is REALITY??
Well, it has happened so why should it not happen again *smirks*
Now whilst you might think this answers his question and the thought is more alluring then the act I’d like to add that my friend also asked me:
Is the thought of having an affair…. the daydreams… fantasies….. better than the real thing…. in the long run.
and to be honest with you my dear I have no idea… Is having an affair a good idea at all? Would it not be better off being in the open? A consensual arrangement between partners of an acknowledged physical need for variety? In my dreams…
Some would say no. Because of the emotional attachment that seems to get involved, the longing, the desire, the haunting feeling that comes of not being able to have the one person you want. The futility of knowing what you have however good it was before may never be right again, not to mention living with the guilt, the betrayal.
Some would say yes. The thrill of the chase, the adrenaline, the discovery of a new person, the potential of fulfillment….
Sexual utopia for me would perhaps be a place where experimentation with other people is permissive IF the parties concerned were able to separate their feelings from the act, in my experience this is a rare occurrence.
I can’t help thinking that the more I think about sex and having sex, the thought of lovers and being the object of someones desire , of being wanted, held and loved for the sake of the moment the more questions I find I have…
To my friend who asked the question I’d say that any conclusions I may ever reach on the subject – and finding a conclusion is not looking good – would only ever apply to me in that moment. I can’t answer this for you.
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