Sexuality Happens

I was sitting in a hot tub in Boulder the other day with some of the amazing women from the first show of the Vagina Monologues I did this year (the second is this weekend). They were talking about how amazing men were in a sexual context, and I was trying to figure out what it was.

“Well, men smell amazing.”

I looked at her like she was nuts.

“Not like icky just worked out for an hour, but they smell good, and they have that just natural, good man scent.”

I thought to myself “yup, definitely queer.”  While I enjoy the scent of many men’s colognes (especially on my partners), the “natural man smell” is a no go for me. When I play hockey in college, we shared a locker room with the men’s club team. Holy. Jesus. Dead. Moose. In. My. Nose.

Shaking it off, I asked them to continue.  One of the women said “well, there is that thing where you’re having sex, or making out or whatever, and suddenly WHOOSH – you’re just where you need to be.  That’s hot.”

Mmmm. I was smiling and nodding in agreement. “Yes. That’s fucking amazing…but um, I don’t think that’s a man thing. When I was sexually active with cisgender men, they always treated me like I was breakable. But hot damn, some of the queer people who have fucked me have just flipped me and fucked me so damn good.”

That got me thinking.  The next day, Q came over, and we had ridiculously hot, incredibly satisfying, I wasn’t actually horny for a day or two (shocking the world), sore cunt, amazing sex.  And at some point in the middle of all of it, I reiterated this conversation for her.  She looked at me puzzledly when I told her that I’d brought her up in the conversation (nameless, of course), and told the girls how much I’d liked it when she flipped me and fucked me.

“You like that? Cause I wasn’t sure, and didn’t want to hurt you and….” she babbled.  

“Oh no. I fucking LOVE that. Because you know what, and I’m not going to say this again, you’re stronger than me.  I love it when we wrestle, when we fight for who gets to fuck who, like earlier in the shower, or in bed. And I love it when you pin me.  Not very many people can pin me and actually hold me down. Surprisingly, I’m stronger than I look.” I was going off on a tangent by this point.

“Oh, so you like this kind of thing?” She took my wrists in her hand, and I fought with her half-heartedly until she pinned them against the bed. I began to struggle against her, legitimately trying to break her hold. I did once or twice, and let her grab my hands again. It was so incredibly sexy to have her hold me where and how she wanted me, right before she fucked me oh so well again.

I like it when someone moves me, when someone is stronger than me and can pin me, flip me, whatever.

Why? 

Part of it is a bit of my Femme side. I like feeling like I’m with someone strong, who will fuck my brains out, and protect me should some rabid bear come charging through my living room (having taken the elevator up to the fourth floor, of course). I like feeling little sometimes. Yes, I like being put where they want me, and fighting back, and getting pinned. It’s a little of my submissive side, a little of my Femme side, a little of my feisty, I want to fight back side. It’s all of that. But I love it, damn it, and am glad to have someone like Q who can wrestle with me, and usually win. 

So flip me, fuck me, and you’ve got me.

-Essin’ Em