Your body is a wonderland.
I don’t know how to swim, but this kind of social gathering offers great incentive to learn.
I’m not sure what this game is, but count me in. Afterwards, we can play Apples-to-Apples.
Soon I will have a wedding band on my finger (yes, I can’t wait!), but I am sure it doesn’t mean to me what it means to most people. It has little to do with commitment and love; my time with my fiancee has already hardened that promise. It doesn’t signal unavailability, because as a poly person in a pretty open relation, my emotions and my body remain as available to friends as they have been in recent years and are likely to only become more so.
Why, then, am I excited? Well, it’s more about what the ring signals to others than it does to me. I like people knowing that my fiancee is the woman I have chosen to share my life with (or, even more meaningful, the one who has chosen to spend her life with me). I like the assumption changing from our being virgins (through the lens of traditional idealism) to being sexually active, and with each other. I like the idea of family, friends, and strangers knowing precisely the person I’m having sex with (not that I particularly need them to know everyone I’ve had sex with, or under what circumstances, it’s more about this aspect of our relationship going from practiced in secret to practiced openly). In an ideal world, a wedding band would come with zero assumptions about a person’s sex life, but that is not our world, so I embrace the sexual connotation that comes with the ring I will soon wear for the rest of my days.
My fiancee likes to grab her own breasts or have her breasts held when we’re having sex. When we talk about being intimate with other women, playing with their breasts is a desire she expresses. Meanwhile, I have a friend who wears a binder and wishes her breasts were gone. Breasts mean many things to different people, and are both one of the most politicized and personal parts of the body. At the end of the day, it’s a woman’s decision to make over whether she likes her breasts and what they mean to her. Still, I do feel that everyone should love and embrace their bodies as they are.
What excites me about this picture is not that my fiancee would be willing to lick my erection or engage in a threesome, because I already know she’s game for both. No, what recreating this image would represent is not only acceptance of my penis inside another person, but full on embracing. Even more, it would mean her getting close to another vagina, a prospect she has not yet expressed any desire for, and her overcoming that hang-up would open up so many sexual possibilities.
April & Madison (via Passion HD)
I’m inclined to agree. I am a big fan of both mutual masturbation and sixty-nine.
It seems that, most of the time, we are either giving or receiving. We are fucking or getting fucked. We are stroking or getting stroked. But I must point out that some of my favorite sexual experiences have occurred when we were doing it together - at the same time - not taking turns.
Sex gets messy. There are genital fluids and sweat and smells and sounds that surround this experience we spend so much of our lives romanticizing. Rather than run from this reality, we should embrace it. Sex is inherently physical, so it is fool-hardy to try to ignore that we are two or more bodies of flesh and moisture engaged in this most intimate of acts.
What a fast shutter this camera must have to capture this powerful moment. This is such a detailed display of human flesh and fluids.