Fuck, sexuality can be HARD. (No pun intended)

So this article was hard to read, but I’m really glad I did.

It’s not that I’ve never turned heads. Being polyamorous, and very fortunate to know some incredibly lovely people who see outside the box of beauty and sexual desirability standards, I have turned a few heads and have had people tell me they think I’m gorgeous and sexy. That they want me, or would want me, were I into that/them.

But up until lately, I’ve had a struggle with balancing the type of desire I want most (overt, passionate, carnal, “I can’t keep my hands off of you; I need to kiss/touch/lick/fuck you RIGHT NOW”) with frequency (I’d like that type about once a week) and from whom I most want it to come from (my husband…or, in the past, my ex-husband and ex-wife).

And here’s where it gets tricky and where I’ve had problems with figuring out how to identify. When I discovered the term “demisexual”, it was like a light bulb went off in my sexual soul.

Yes! I thought. This explains it! I’m only sexually attracted to people I have a strong emotional bond to.

Over the past couple of years, life has been conspiring to laugh in my face about this personal revelation. Well, maybe not quite so bitchily.

So, a few years ago, I met a Dom who knew within five minutes of meeting me that I was in the scene and I had, at least in some major part, submissive tendencies. I spent one night out with him and friends watching a show and he hit a core of me and it shocked me. I didn’t have a strong emotional bond with him. Hell, I barely knew him. I’d only met him that night. How did he get inside and see me like that? But it was okay. I told myself. I wasn’t sexually attracted to him.

Until I was. A year later. At this point, we’d spent less than 10 hours together total and I felt a carnal desire bubbling up in me that confused the ever-loving fuck out of me. I think this was around the time I had discovered the phrase “demisexuality”, which made me even MORE confused.

A close friend tried telling me that I wasn’t demisexual, I was just selective. My husband tried saying I shouldn’t try to force labels and to just let myself feel and want what I want without obsessing over how to categorize it.

It pissed me off.

BUT THIS IS WHO I AM.

sigh

Then came the woman who’s really hot. A great kisser. Amazing skin and energy. Funny, intelligent, strong. We wound up making out because we were in the same area around 2am one night and I found myself thinking I wish I could see what would happen. So I texted her to see if she was free and to see what would happen.

Let me be clear. I wasn’t in a full-on froth and needed to get my rocks off. In fact, I didn’t. She did, though. I helped. It was awesome. The whole thing, start to finish was awesome. If the situation presented itself again, I’d do it again. Fuck, man, she’s a REALLY good kisser. Making out was FUN. But I was happier with the sensation stuff she did to me and wasn’t interested in sexual stuff to me and I was fulfilled. But I was also happy to be part of her being sexually fulfilled. And I’ve known her for a few years now. I’d say we have an emotional connection and are good friends.

Also, I’m in the process of flirting with a guy. I’ve met him a few times at events. He’s really cute, has great energy, and gives wonderful hugs. He messaged me and we started talking and realized we have a lot in common and might want to do sexy things to each other. That include music! I’ve been up front with him about the demisexuality thing (that I’m currently struggling with) and that I like flirting and thinking of fun things we could do, but I’m not sure what will happen when we’re actually in the same place. I run programming at events. It’s a busy job. I’ve also worried that I’ll “turn off” once in the same room with someone I’m not incredibly emotionally bonded to. He has been the consummate gentleperson and said that of course, if I don’t feel it in the moment, then I don’t have to do whatever I’m not comfortable with. Like a boss. Which made me feel like I wanted to do MORE sexy stuff with him. Which makes me think…uh, maybe not demisexual.

Then there’s the woman locally whom my husband teases me with, calling her my girlfriend. I used to laugh it off thinking she couldn’t possibly be interested in me. Until she said she was. And now we’re figuring out what that means and looks like. So far it’s mostly playfully romantic with desire to scene. But it tripped me up when she asked me what wouldn’t be on the table for me. My brain froze because I was about to give my stock answer of “no sex” when I realized that I didn’t actually feel that way right now. To be clear…sex was NOT off the table when I thought of her. It’s not that it was automatically on the table or going to happen, but the fact that I didn’t out rule it from the get go was strange and new to me.

And I started to think about things like the few friends I’ve known for many years whom I’ve always wanted to make out with.

The friend or two I’ve known for a while that I’ve maybe once or twice thought about having sex with.

Some of the close friends I have that I have no sexual interest in but would love to cuddle with.

Scenes I want to have that are intense but in no way, shape, or form involve my or anyone else’s genitalia (or boobs or asses) but still leave me feeling really satisfied and fulfilled thinking about or doing them.

The aforementioned Dom that I would love some brutal and/or tantric sex with.

And the celebrities on/in various shows and movies I like that I’m starting to realize I have a primary sexual attraction to: Glen Hetrick, Dave Navarro, Michelle Hendley, tWitch, Mia Michaels, and Jada Pinkett-Smith.

So my brain goes… FUCKING GREAT. Just when I figure something out, it changes.

Again, my husband tells me not to obsess over the labels. That I’m growing and changing. That it’s normal.

It helps. He helps. But…

But then I read that afore-linked article.

This line, especially, gets to me:

It would be a lie to say that I never miss the flash of longing in a lover’s eye, the low growl of desire near my ear during lovemaking, the thrill of being wanted, urgently, by someone. The opportunity to say YES instead of to ask, would you? The quiet pleasure of acquiescence to someone else’s need.

And I’m beginning to realize that the demisexuality might have been a thing that helps me understand that all of what people were saying, including myself, is true. I am selective. I am growing. I do obsess about labels to help me understand things because I hate not understanding, especially myself. But I’m finding that I’m not really generally demisexual anymore, except as a demisexual cuckquean.

Adding to the mix that I identify as a cuckquean just makes it all the more confusing, but this article made it make sense. Because I truly believe part of my sexuality is derived by proxy through my husband’s pleasure. The results are tangible. It’s one of the biggest turn on’s I have. And I think that plays into the demisexual part. I have that connection with him, so him feeling pleasure turns me on. I’m not saying that this is how all cuckqueans work. Some work on humiliation. I do not. I do have an emotional masochism streak a mile wide, however, so I like the delicious torment of pick me and being told “no.” But…part of that is the implication of “but I will later. And I do, ultimately. Always.”

We’ve agreed on where we come home to: each other.

The aforementioned Dom also suggested that I get in touch with myself. My desires. To fully claim and know my sexuality.

Thing is…I have in many ways. It’s just a large part of my sexuality is tied into my husband’s and that’s only happened once before. So for me, part of my sexuality is tied into his desire. Seeing that spark in his eyes. Feeling the energy of desire roll off of him, unapologetically. That irrefutable fire that says “I want this and I’m going to have it.” It’s HOT.

But finding a balance is hard. We’re still working on refining it for both our pleasure while also realizing that we’re separate people who’re in an open relationship and I don’t have to get off on every part of his sexuality. Finding that balance is hard.

It’s made even harder when I really want to feel some of that urge towards me. Because I generally do the initiating. And when I don’t, yes, he’s clearly, undeniably aroused by me but then generally wants me to keep doing things to him to keep those good feelings going. I get action, attention, the growl as part of that, but rarely do I get the sole attention or the initial hungry need from him.

And I know that this is a combination of a lot of factors. Going into our third year of marriage, it’s normal for things to cool, to slow. We adapt. It’s not that we have a bad sex life, in any way. I quite like it and think it’s really good. The intimacy level is awesome. The sex is fucking fantastic. But sometimes, I just want to be pursued. Consumed. Taken.

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