Dominant Dynamics and Dandies
It has become more difficult for me to deny the bipolarity of physical relationships. In the interest of following the metaphor of polarity: most of the time I start my expedition in the South pole and I rarely seem to find my way all the way up North. At times, though my expedition partner enjoys my usual geographic extreme more than I do, at that moment I get the desire to migrate because staying at one place for too long can be dull. Oh, in case you couldn’t decipher the hidden meaning of polarity: I’m talking about dominance and submission.
See, there is always a kind of sexual dynamic, some people even have a fetish for it. But most sexually active people are vanilla (meaning not doing anything out of the ordinary, sexually that is). Yet, this polarity is practiced by everyone, we just rarely pay attention to it.
In this particular story I feel pushed all the way up North but I long for the South. Being in the South makes me feel wanted, it makes me feel beautiful. Not beautiful in the sense of appearance, no. Beautiful because I feel innocent, sinless, almost angelic because outside of the physical I am no citizen of the South pole.
*south meaning submissive, north meaning dominant
image: pitta kkm
Self-satisfaction is not a new phenomenon in the twenty first century. Jerking off, flicking the bean, masturbating, bust a nut, whatever you want to call it, we have all done or at least attempted to at one point in our lives. Most of us don’t limit the relationship with ourselves to a one time kind of thing. And a lot of us use special assistance to achieve la petite mort, the little death if you will, or more to the point: I am talking about orgasms.
“If me and myself were not the same person, we might even be sexually disappointed in one another.”
Where once imagination used to take us, a vastly wide range of erotic movies does today. You don’t even need to think, your fantasies are laid out for you like a deck of cards. And let’s be honest, it is one infinite deck of cards and everyone has their favourite one. The internet has become a sort of pornography magician, holding all the cards and asking you over and over ‘is this one yours’? Pushing the sometimes unwanted content right in your face. Some things may interest you, others may briefly scar you or even make you question your existence.
I find myself picking the same cards whenever hormones or a kind of numbing substance alter the cravings of my body. Why? Perhaps because it is familiar, because it does not carry that element of (a bad) surprise. Perhaps it is because I already know how far I need to swipe my finger over the time line of the video in order to get to the ‘good parts’.
But the real answer must be that it is just easier. I try to fantasise, create an erotic scenario in my head in which the actors are the people from my life and I am obviously the one taking home the Oscar for best performance. But it takes time, a lot of time. Pornography can make you sing (usually not out loud though) in minutes. So perhaps I am literally and figuratively not as in touch with myself in a moment when I am actually supposed to be as close to myself as possible.
Have I become impatient about my own pleasure? The shorter the session with myself, the weaker the orgasm. That’s just fact for me and I’ve a feeling I am not the only one experiencing this low input, low reward when I have sex with myself. If me and myself were not the same person, we might even be sexually disappointed in one another. And I really do not like disappointing myself.