I need to be touched.
This year has been so many encounters that found me all kinds of touched, but quickly crashing when my clothes were back on. I've been taking on lovers who I left in the dark about my intentions- the ways I was using their hard working forearms to feel out my own shit. To push my own buttons.
Because sometimes it's not enough to trust that heat radiates- sometimes you need to know that you can get right under the fire and breath just the same.
This is ok- it's part of the deal. When I don't know where I'm at in my capacity for give and take, it suits me well to just jump in- and not everyone I fuck needs to know why I'm there. I sure as hell don't know all or any of what they're seeking beyond what their hands grab at.
These are reasonably safe people and I think that if nothing else, we know that we are seeking one another in part, for the questions we won't ask. And even more so, the answers we aren't demanding.
This turns me on. This is a necessary process.
So sex can be consent without being disclosure... Ask me what I want but not why- and then give it to me.
But what about the person reading this and thinking, I need to be touched too. Maybe you're having sex, maybe not. And maybe it's really hot. But maybe, when I say there's a tenacity to want to be touched somewhere different, you feel a small fire somewhere...
It seems I want a friend who knows their own need to be touched as just that- a practical, wet, necessary remedy for when the body becomes such stone that no part of your day can penetrate you. That your heart and muscles and very sense of hunger gets lost behind your body's turning in on itself. And so I am allowing myself to imagine that there are brave, hungry, sometimes hurting people in my community who, without seeking a relationship, are looking to disclose as part of consenting and talking dirty. People who want to hook up under the guise of-
"I am playing with fire- it's going to be hot and I may or may not be able to handle it. This will not be a performance. This sex will ask questions and try for answers. And that's why we're having it."
Don't get me wrong- I maintain my interest in and passion for lovers with whom I maintain a distinct emotional distance. There are plenty of people I want to sleep with but don't want to share with. But there are also people I want to or have shared with, and have been turned on enough by what we share to want to manifest it in anapologetic sex.
It seems that this begs the question- how is this different from the makings of a relationship? I mean, NSA sex and dating is able to be that because you don't divulge too much. But I am deciding to at least try it out- try believing that sharing my shit, the shit that gets stored up and toxic or stressful in my body can be shared without moving away from NSA. And that the idea that it is too fine of a line between it and a formal relationship is made a bit bolder, a bit thicker when one considers this:
We assume that emotional honesty is a direct line to a relationship because we have been taught in so many ways that you share your hurt in the more or less passive hope that the person you share with will make you better. We often don't name the conditions of this help- we offer ourselves up to an abstract idea of healing with blind faith that the other person won't further injure or manipulate us with what they know. Still, we are handing off the agency over our healing to someone else's vision of what healing looks like. And who wants to engage in that kind of utter and relatively irresponsible surrender without the guarantee of some sort of committed connection?
But in my vision, I know exactly the mode of healing I am looking for and asking for- I am sharing that which needs touch for the express purpose of having you touch it appropriately and well informed. This is not about surrender and I have no need or interest in having to figure out how to hold someone else or be held by them- I want to tell and be told directly rather than go into a relational process not knowing exactly what I'm looking for.
I am bent on finding a way that knowing why we're fucking can be just as hot as honing our individual selves like dirty little secrets.
Now how do I find others with this tenacity for erotic hope?