outer-jessie's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- where the fuck, part two Glechk. The impression I'm getting from a few of you girls from your comments in my guestbook is that your guys don't know what you want and you can't tell them. Sounds awful! Why is this such a difficult topic? Why is "please do the dishes" so much easier to say than "please put your tongue in my vagina"? Guys have fragile egos? Ok, sure, some of them do. Doesn't everyone? And what kind of excuse is this anyway? You can't tell them what you want in bed because they might curl into the fetal position and cry themselves to sleep? What would you do if your lover told you what s/he wants you to do. Cry, or do it with gusto? Explaining what you want from a sexual encounter isn't a personal attack, and people who see it as such need to grow the fuck up. No pun intended. As for what I did: I showed Rob the entry. Of course I did. Do you honestly think I would share something like this publicly on the web, but not with him? Ok, I'm not trying to be mean; all I'm saying is, if I shared this rant with the world at large, but not with the person I'm closest to in the world, what kind of person would you think me? Besides that, I also sent him an email explaining things more carefully. I called for honesty (which I shouldn't have to do, but maybe if I keep doing it it will start to come naturally) and detailed a few of the finer points. His reply contained, among other things, the statement that he doesn't know what I want. So what do you think I did then? Hm? I told him what I want. All the gory and delicious details, with full-color pictures and descriptive captions (figuratively speaking). I'm not afraid or ashamed to talk about my sexuality, or his, and even my freaky highly-morally-questionable fantasies have all come to light sooner or later. I haven't heard from him since yesterday, but hopefully that will do the trick. I'll let you know when the weekend rolls around. Thank you to those of you who said I need to talk to Rob about the issue. In my head, that went without saying, but you didn't know that, so thanks. If any of you haven't tried this before, I highly recommend it: masturbation during sex. For me, it's the only way to get the real orgasm with penetration. I lie on my stomach and he enters from behind, lying on top of me or kneeling behind me, and I masturbate and we both grind. If it's all timed correctly, we can both get there at the same time, and that is SOOOOO worth it. For what it's worth, your mileage may vary, proceed at your own risk, et cetera, et cetera. For guys who aren't as kinky as you are (Sarah, I'm thinking of you), I would have to lay out the props, say "this is what turns me on, this is what I want, here's what I'd like you to do," and if that isn't enough to get him hand-cuffing you to the bed and drizzling hot fudge on your thighs, I really think you need to sit down with this person and flesh out why you're expected to play his game, but he won't play yours. Sex is not a party of one. Oh my! I could be Doctor Ruth when I grow up. The marriage thing is the other issue. Yes, I'm afraid of being married. I'm afraid we'll get to "I now pronounce you husband and wife," and I'll go completely pale, sway imperceptibly, and pass right the hell out. Wife. I don't want to be a wife! The wife is the ball and chain, the nag, the one who won't let you hang out with the guys on Friday night. She's the one who gets upset for no conceivable reason, cries in the bathroom, asks you about your feelings and you don't know! She's the one who can't speak plain English, embarrasses you in public, gets dropped when she's past forty for someone younger and prettier. It's not my fault I'm afraid of being a wife; look at all the stereotypes society has presented to me. And I can't fight the stereotypes when some of them are what I am. Maybe I do get upset for no (outwardly) conceivable reason, maybe I will be a nag, I probably will ask about his feelings. Can I really redefine the word "wife" if I am all the things it already means? Anyone wonder why I no longer like watching "Everybody Loves Raymond"? So yeah, I'm afraid of that. Plus I'm afraid of tying myself to him so young, and maybe someday changing my mind, and not being able to make things work. But you know what else? I'm also afraid of being a grad student. Afraid of living across the country for the long-term. Afraid of growing old. Afraid to choose a career. But does that mean I shouldn't do these things, or won't? Does that mean that I'm not ready? No, it means I worry about change, I'm looking at all the possibilities and some of them aren't good, I'm forging my way into the unknown. It's good to be a little scared; I don't want to walk in unprepared. Show me a bride who isn't worried about getting married, and I'll show you a bride who isn't ready for it. I have faith that things will work out well. I've picked a good school, I've picked a beautiful state, I've picked a good spouse. Everything won't be ok, but most of it will, and I can manage with that. 8:24 a.m. - 2002-10-17 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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