Sex is sacred.

Wait, wait, that’s not right.

Sex is messy, complicated, fun, and a whole lot of other things, but sacred? I don’t know.

Sex is powerful.

In fact, sex has been used throughout time as a means of gaining and maintaining power. Sex has of course also been used for procreation. Procreation and power. I’m fairly certain it’s been used for pleasure in the past as well, and that’s primarily how we think of it today. There’s this holy bubble around sex that it must be pleasurable or else there’s something wrong. Sex is mating for humans, and it does in fact sometimes result in a new human being created. Does that mean sex doesn’t necessarily have to always be pleasurable? *gasp*

Well, here’s my answer. I don’t fucking know. But I do know, however, that every time I have sex, it had better be a fucking delight. Or else…

What? We’ll change position. I’ll kindly suggest a different angle to my partner, or another technique, or another hole *wink*. Or we’ll talk about it. Or I’ll ask, “How do you want me?”

Or (surprise surprise) – guess what! – we give up and laugh and decide it’s not the right time. There’s a time for everything and much like the oft-debated female orgasm, the act of sex itself can’t be forced.

So, what’s my point? What’s the end-game here? Fuck. Well, today I couldn’t stop thinking about how great of an idea it would be to abstain from sex. Initially, when it popped into my head, I laughed. I got scared and I laughed. As you’ve seen, I have in the past used sex from another as substitute for loving myself. If I were to really buckle down (literally) and give up sex, I’d have no choice but to find my love within, not from an external source. It’s one thing to preach self-love and periodically change my thoughts into more kind words. It’s quite another to actually starve myself of the one thing that has sustained me.

No, it’s not an exaggeration. No, I’m not a sex addict. I like sex. I love sex. This doesn’t mean I’m DTF when-the-fuck-ever or with who-the-fuck-ever. I enjoy connection, intimacy. I enjoy pleasure and sensation. I enjoy being worshipped and adored. I also enjoy giving. I am a self-proclaimed Scorpion Succubus.

Some of you may not understand this. That’s okay. I’m not talking to you. You can stick around for shits and giggles and gasps, but this is not for you. I could try to explain it to the best of my ability, but somehow I know my words will fall short. It doesn’t mean you like sex any less. Your experience is simply different from mine. With sex, I thrive. I fiend. I can get hangry (in this case – horny and angry). And, as is most relevant, I have confused love with sex and sex with love.

And I am confused. Actually, more curious than confused. I am certain of my own experiences and I’m certain that I like sex from both men and women. In the overlap of love and sex, though, I’m a bit fuzzy. I’ve always thought it was such a shame English has only one word to express what love is, when some other languages boast dozens. But also, not a shame, because our many poets and wordsmiths might not have tried so fervently to describe it if we had other fodder to use.

So, in the quest for self-love, I give up sex. I even had the inkling to give up orgasms altogether (like, no masturbating) but that thought just seemed cruel. I thought, a week, a month, a year? But, three months seems fine for now. As of today, it’s already been a week since I last got laid, so we know I can go 7 days without much fuss.

Oh goddess, the rebel in me wants to fight this. I can feel it. Well, excuse me while I go vomit, cry, and/or give myself a little pep talk…..

 

 

Image: Pexels

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