So what should we consider “sex”? *possible triggery post*

So what people construe as sex varies from person to person, culture to community. What I think of as sex is vastly different from most, and even then my ideology of sex evolves as I do.

Let me give a little bit of back story here. The short and dirty of it: I was raped and molested as a teenager- a lot. People I loved and trusted forced themselves upon me, and older men that I only knew as acquaintances did so as well. I became to believe that the only reason a male conversed with me or showed any interest in me was because he wanted my body in some way. So I concluded that in order for a man to fall in love with me I had to give over my body, that I had to pleasure him. But I only wanted to have sex with someone I could make love to, because I equated having sex with someone I was in love with. But I needed him to fall in love with me, and thus needed to use my body to achieve this. So I ended up giving a lot of head. A lot. I remember times where I was floating above my body watching what was happening like a scene in a movie. I dissociated myself from my corporeal form in order to not feel like a “bad girl,” “whore,” “slut,” “dirty,” etc. In my mind, oral was just an extension of “making out.”

Apparently I share similar views of sex with prostitutes. Even while trying to stay away from the stereotype I became it?

Alan and I disagree what all making out entails. I think to him it’s kissing, and petting over clothes? To me it’s up to and including oral. So I started thinking about this yesterday and today. And I’ve come to the realization that I have no fucking clue what to consider “making out,” and what to consider “sex.” The concept of it, for me, has changed since I was a teenager. I’ve come out of the closet in both my sexuality and in how I view partnerships.

Two girls having sex, by its very definition, is different from two men, or a man and a woman. And then if you add into the mix a female/male gendered person that isn’t aligned with their given body, then it gets even more complicated!!

Sex cannot simply mean penetration. Because if this is the case, then fingering someone, or using a non-real penis, is considered sex. But is fingering sex? Or is it a part of making out?

Is it sex when you’re engaging in heavy petting with clothes on? Clothes off?

Is sex whenever you have an orgasm? Or when there is the possibility of orgasm?

Can there be non-physical sex? What if you’re with a partner and you have like tantric breathing that results in a very intimate shared moment, and possibly even the achievement of orgasm, but there is no touching of any sort?

And if you and your partner truly differ in what you think of as “sex,” then trying to navigate polyamory or boundaries of what is and is not acceptable with another person becomes infinitely more complicated!!!!

Add into the mix that in today’s technology world we have cyber sex, cyber relationships, cyber dates, etc. Is it cheating if you have an online relationship with someone, but you never meet, never even talk on the phone? But you share yourself, your thoughts and desires, with someone you’ve never met; and possibly masturbate to reading what someone else writes to you… is that sex? Is that cheating? And if so, then what is the difference between cyber, porn, and getting off from a really steamy book? The author/filmmaker created it to get people all hot and bothered.. and in a way specifically for you, in both the individual and in the collective sense. So is that cheating/sex?

There certainly is no right or wrong answer. There is definitely not any black and white. There is a multitude of rainbow shades in a spectrum that changes from every encounter, every new input, from moment to moment.

I know that what is important and necessary is not the definition itself, but the communication of it with your partner/s and with yourself. We need to get out of this acceptance of slut shaming. We need to forget the antiquated modal of the Madonna and the Whore. Sex is something that is in all of us. We need to stop being so fucking prudish! Embrace our sexuality, embrace our bodies, embrace pleasure, embrace others. And we fucking need to stop getting so damned wrapped up in bashing others or ourselves.

Maybe sex is any moment of true intimacy with ourself or with another person. In a moment where we bare our soul to the world, in any rapturous moment of bliss, maybe that is “sex.”

Damn.. I’ve had a lot of sex with chocolate then! 😉

Much love as always. And for gods sake, go out and have some fun boinking and fun sex!
~Polyleigh

epic Saturday was epic!

cupcake my little pony

So Saturday I went to a friend’s house (she and I met in college back in ’94, and she was the second girl I ever had a fullblown crush on). There as a group of us playing Cards Against Humanity (think dirty adult Apples to Apples). Of course there was a lot of drinking involved, along with massive amounts of sexual innuendos. How can there not be with CAH? I mean seriously?!

So I was about to leave because I had another game night to go to, but then said friends say the magic phrase, “Why don’t we go look at boobs at the Pink Pony?” So yeah.. sorry other friends, boobs totally won out! So six of us piled into two cars and we made a quick stop at CVS for some energy shots and made our way to the strip club.

It was a fucking shmorgesboard of T&A!!! Where there used to be a smattering of tattoos/piercings on a dancer, it was the rarity when a girl didn’t have something glinting from her naughty bits (not this time but a previous trip to the pony I saw my first ever taint piercing. Look it up, it’s totally a thing) or isn’t covered in ink (at least a tramp stamp or random butterfly or something). One girl had a full set of wings going all the way down her back to her amazingly round bouncy ass. And she had a mohawk!! Gods she was hot!!!! The other thing we noticed was the plethora of girls in glasses. Ok see, I’ve worn glasses my entire life (since I was like 12) and it was never cool; and now strippers are wearing geeky looking glasses as accessories. It blows my mind! My geekiness is finally acceptable and is in fact a fashion statement? So weird.

So anyways, I love all the commentary our table made about the various dancers. And there was a lady walking around selling back massages at your table (she was awesome! Thank you random blonde chick for working out the knots in my back!). And of course we had more booze. One of the girls at our table had a tall asian dancer with big fake tits. She was soooo tall! And, I saw a dancer literally getting the whole “make it rain” happening! Money was floating around her and another dancer had to come out with a big empty booze box and took armfuls of cash to put in the box. Said dancer must’ve had a serious admirer cuz fuck she made the dough that night!

We eventually left and went back to the apartment and six turned to four. We played drunk Magic and I ended up doing a party foul (spilled booze on the cards) so I had to take my shirt off. Oh darn, heaven forbid you tell me to strip! Y’all are lucky that I wear clothes at all!!! Poor Alan, he keeps freaking out when I wander around the house in my panties with our two other roommates that I’m not having any sort of sexy relationship with. He’s all like, “dammit put on a robe!”

Obviously I had had enough to drink and it was soooo fucking late that driving home was not going to happen. So I asked for a pair of boxers or sleepy pants or something, and was given a pair of boxers. The jeans came flying off and thrown somewhere in the bedroom.

Epic quote the next morning after only like an hour or two of sleep: “hey, have any of you seen my pants anywhere?” I never thought in a million years I’d utter those words. And then of course because I slept on the couch, when I call Alan to tell him I’m coming home I say, “my butt hurts.” He’s like, “what the hell did you do last night!?” He couldn’t help but giggle.

Thank you Alan for being such a cool and accepting partner that you let me go out with my friends, get drunk, make out, and then come home smelling like desperation and strippers, and making exclamations about missing clothes and a hurt ass. He said I needed to have a good time… no worries. It was epic!

And now we’re getting a group together to go to the Pony for my birthday next month.

Epic!!!

ps.. just in case I’ve somehow never clarified… I fucking loveee making out!