This was originally posted on my hidden blog, but upon request for a post from the lovely and talented Miss Delena, I'm putting it here, though I may regret it and will likely delete it by the end of the weekend. It's a bit more open than I like, and the topics discussed make me uncomfortable. In it, I'm trying to dig deeper into my own problems, but I fear that what I've discovered is that I'm unsalvageable...
SEX AND ME
I'm not entirely sure where this entry is going to end up. I'm writing it in my hidden journal, but it may end up coming out of the Tian-Hei, depending upon where it goes, I guess.
I think a lot of my sexual issues come from my conflict between my sexual drive, and my urge to suppress my sexuality completely. Let me make it clear: I'm a pervert. I don't merely think about sex, I obsess about
teens for cash videos. I imagine it with nearly every semi-attractive woman I see, many of whom it is inappropriate to think about in that way. I masturbate often, occasionally in "risky" situations (as both a voyeur and an exhibitionist, the risk of getting caught increases the excitement). I've spoken before about the fact that I am multi-orgasmic, which means I cum a lot when I cum. No, I mean a lot. Even that fact excites me, as the idea of nearly drowning a woman giving me a blow job is very exciting. I've tasted my own cum, and have written stories about licking it out of a woman's pussy, not because I like the taste of it, and certainly not because I'm gay, but simply because it seems like a nasty, naughty thing to do. Of course, there's my oft-spoken biggest obsession, which is eating a woman out, the juicier and wetter the better. I love the scent and the taste and the excitement.
I know all these things don't really make me a pervert, and many of them are fantasized by a lot of people. The problem comes with my desire to keep from viewing women in a sexual way all the time, and with the fact that I feel that even by thinking of such things, I am in some way violating them. Part of it is my Catholic upbringing, part of it is my near-certainty that I was sexually abused as a child (based on scant evidence, I admit), but a huge part of it is a rage against my gender for acts of violence and degradation against women. Too many women I know and love have been abused sexually, many of them in childhood, and it makes it hard for me to justify my own thoughts of sexual debauchery. I know that rape is about violence and control, and not about sex, but the act itself is the same, and that's where I have trouble. It doesn't help that so many of the women who seem to be forward about sex, and who sometimes use it as a weapon themselves (though "merely" as an enticement, and in what I view as a self-destructive way) are those very women who have had sex forced upon them, often at a very young age.
I don't know to what degree my feelings are irrational. But I have trouble processing the fact that these thoughts make me feel that sex itself, and the specific acts I desire, are wrong. Is it any wonder that I have trouble performing? Is it any wonder that I fear it, and choose to stay with someone who seems to fear it as much as I do? I have this idea in my head that women who desire sex, who crave it, and who enjoy it, must have had some trauma in their past to cause this lust. And even though it's the lust itself that I crave more than anything (a genuine female orgasm is the sexiest thing in the world to me), the idea of where it originated in the first place taints it, and makes me feel guilty, again, for thinking of them as sex objects. Is it not those who treated them as mere objects in the first place that caused them to use sex as a first defence? And, just to add to my confusion, here's a story I've only ever told one other person, and even then I left something out....
There's a girl I know who has a crush on me. A very big crush. But she's a very young girl, not yet 12, so we all find it cute. We joke about it, and both me and my wife call her my "girlfriend". Whenever I'm around her, she follows me like a puppy dog, and while at first I didn't know how to handle it, in the end I decided to just be extra nice to her, because it makes her happy. One night, we were all out on the porch; my wife, this girl's mom and her grandmother, me and the girl. She asked to sit on my lap, and I pulled her up. She's old enough and big enough that I couldn't (and prolly shouldn't) put her totally on my lap, so she ended up just straddling one of my legs. A few moments later, in the dark, I felt her wriggling a little on my knee. At first, I thought she was simply uncomfortable, but as the wriggling continued, I realized it wasn't so much wriggling as writhing. She was actually rubbing herself on my knee. Maybe I should have pushed her off, or maybe I should have said something, but I didn't really know what to say. After a few moments, I suggested we all go back in the house, since that was the only un-obvious thing I could think of to do.
How old were you when you began to have sexual feelings? I was that same age, but I certainly wasn't sure enough about anything to do something like that. To use her sexuality like that at such a young age, she must have been exposed to something, right? And since her dad is "dating" a 14 year old, it doesn't take a genius to figure that one out. I'd kill the sonuvabitch if I could.
Anyway, here's the problem. Even while I felt sick to my stomach, I can't deny that a part of me enjoyed being subjected to her sexuality. Given the fact that my wife won't subject me to hers, it is not surprising, but it still scares me and worries me that I could actually be turned on by such a thing, from such a young girl (strangely, I was not turned on at the time, because I was too stunned, but was later when I thought about it). The whole incident made me feel even more afraid of my sexuality, and increased the need to suppress it.
The problem is, I don't want to suppress my
squirting pussy anymore. I want to express it and explore it with a woman who is not afraid of her own sexuality. Yet, as noted here, I fear that too. Not that it matters, I guess.
I'm beginning to understand that I will never be able to explore my sexuality in the way I need to to fix whatever is wrong with me. The fear of it. The chance to fix it (and the woman to fix it with) came and went with ferocious alacrity (I've always wanted to use that word!), and with it, perhaps my last chance to ever be "normal". I can accept that, or I think I will be able to, in time. The problem is, I don't know what to do to shut off my urges and desires in the meantime. If anything, my drive is becoming stronger and stronger, and with no one to share it with, my behaviors seem to become more and more risky. I see trouble ahead...
