ah, selective video. purveyors of porn, pasticheurs of all things decidedly un-puritanical. their body is a wonderland; nooks and crevices and crannies crammed full of everything you need to make your wet dreams come true.
items range from the ridiculous (penis napkin holders) to the raunchy (loincloths, anyone?), from the bodacious (lubes and gels in a variety of yummy flavors) to the truly bizarre (several different items which, even after careful perusal, i still couldn’t discern their intended use). they very definitely put the tit in titillation.
on a recent jaunt to their fine establishment with a friend, the subject of bondage came up. i was fascinated by the many different ways there were to restrain and subjugate your significant other. handcuffs with fur, or made out of leather, studded, spiked, and coming with matching whip/mask/indiscernible sexual aide. the variations were endless, and i thought well, gee. maybe there’s something to this.
now, i’ve never been tied up, down, or sideways, but i find the idea intriguing. i’ve never taken that interest beyond the abstract to act upon it, however. there are several reasons for this: namely, that i’m continually unattached and i have a few control issues that would need to be taken care of first.
the idea of someone slipping manacles around my wrists and pocketing the key gives me serious pause. who’s to say they won’t walk out with my clothes and leave me (quite literally) hanging? i mean, how well to you have to know someone to feel comfortable being cuffed? what level of trust allows you to revel in restraint?
trust is a big issue with sex. at least for me. my previous sexual experiences have left something to be desired. okay, a lot to be desired. like an orgasm. so i have to concede that my viewpoints are informed by my past, and that my opinion isn’t exactly objective. then again, it’s impossible for anyone to get a good distance from something so intrinsic, so basic to our nature.
admit it; sex takes up the better part of all our waking thoughts. it’s there when we wake in the morning with a hard on, or at lunch when we fantasize about a quickie with the water cooler guy, or while eating a particularly juicy piece of asparagus at dinner. it’s ingrained in all of us; eat, sleep, fuck. and not necessarily in that order.
of course, i realize i’m painting this in pretty broad strokes. i know some people who put more thought into what brand of toothpaste they want to try than who their next bed partner will be. on one hand, i laud the freedom they seem to have found. on the other, i can’t help but feel that they’re really missing out on the good stuff.
the way two bodies move together, sure of one another, trusting the other to touch the right spot, say the right word, go fast, then slow, then fast. the way you can surprise yourself by screaming when you’ve always been more of a moaner, because you suddenly feel completely free and wild and uninhibited and sure that your partner won’t start laughing at you. the way you find joy in pleasing each other, almost more joy than you find in being pleased. at least, i think that’s the way it should be.
it’s possible that i’m missing something. i fully realize i’m a relationship neophyte, a sexual schizoid with only a very basic understanding of the way the game is played. maybe there’s something to be had in anonymous couplings, the thrill of the unknown, the danger in discovery.
i just don’t think i’m built that way. i like to know the lips i’m kissing, who’s skin is sliding against me, what heart pounds in tandem with mine. the thrill then becomes exploring the infinite uknown of someone so seemingly familiar. i know i’m not making the concept of sexual familiarity seem, well, sexy, but different strokes, people. my trigger gets tripped at the the idea that, at a certain point with the right person, a kind of sexual shorthand develops that frees you to go where you’ve never gone before.
but how do you find that right time with that right person? wouldn’t it be nice if there was some universal litmus test you could take to make these things easier? “oh look, honey. the paper is green. get out the sling.” but there is no magic flashpoint. no unilateral measuring stick to determine when and where and how and with whom you do what things.
in the end, i suppose the person you need to trust in is yourself. it all comes down to what’s comfortable for you. anyone who asks you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, politely decline or suggest an alternative more up your alley, so to speak. if they still don’t get the hint, a decisive “hell no” should suffice. if they keep it up and try to (insert genitalia here) your (insert orifice here), a swift kick in a sensitive area combined with a strategic and prolonged squirt of mace/hairspray/wd-40 to the ocular cavities should do the trick.
then get out of there and find someone who feels good to you.
because really, it takes a lotta trust to try and fit that big key into that little lock. but with the right combination, and a little jiggle this way and wiggle that way, it just might open. oh, and think of all the wonders to be found inside… i think i’m beginning to see the merits of getting tied up and getting down.
now if you’ll excuse me, i’ve gotta go practice some knots.