Know what I haven't done in a while? Talked about sex. Well, baby, tonight's the night (though you'll have to hang in a bit to get to it).
One thing that's interesting about this internet world--and the written word in general--is the perception aspect. That is, the perceptions one builds of the people one reads. Much like reading a book where you create a mental image of the character, people read a blogger's words and filter them through their own imaginations and experience. And whether deliberately or no, a picture of what the person would be like to interact with in "real life" develops--you invent an imaginary voice for the person, an imaginary height, body type...you think you "get" how that person would move or respond or act in real life.
I suppose this response is only natural. But it's good to remember that this imagined perception is all you, not them.
To make my case, I'll use myself and some of the assumptions of me that have been shared with me, and seem most pronounced.
Assumption #1: You know what I sound like.
One misperception that I've heard very often relates to my voice. People who have known me first by writing and then heard my real life voice are, almost, to a one, shocked. I've been told many times that my "typed voice" comes across as "tough" or some such thing. Generally people tell me they expect to hear someone with a voice that's "harsher." One person said they'd expected "loud and nasally, like Fran Drescher." Another person said they'd thought it would be "gravel and cigarettes throaty." Time and again, the perceptions shared with me are similar to those--they'll use words like "low," "hard," and "tough" for what they imagine I'd sound like speaking to them. I think they expect to hear some brassy Algonquin-round-table broad type who's going to shoot back double-edged innuendos at them while sounding horrifically jaded and mildly annoyed.
When instead, they get this.
Which by all accounts, my writing does not "sound like," at least to others. And yet, I type to the voice in my head, which sounds to me like my voice. I'd say everything I say here out loud. But often, people take what I say differently when write things, versus when I say the same things to them in my voice.
When people hear my voice, they tend to use adjectives like "soft," "sweet," "girlish," and "sexy." Some of those probably describe my personality more than "low," "hard," and "tough." Although I'm not a pushover, I have always felt far from tough. Ultimately I am and have always been, despite trying to fight it for many years, a nice person. A smart, thoughtful, resilient, sometimes clever person, too--but always kind--or that is my natural inclination to want to be, anyway. A sweet girl who happens to like talking frankly about many things--including sex. But this combination seems to come as a surprise to most people--like they assume the two could never go together.
Anyway, the point is, people tend to assume I'm a different kind of person based on whether they read my writing or hear my voice. People who hear and see me in real life tend to assume my soft voice and polite, kind mode of expression makes me a Nice Girl, and hence not very sexual--and are surprised when I am. Whereas many people who read my words without hearing the voice assume I am more sexual and powerful than nice.
Which leads me to my next example.
Assumption #2: I'd like to dominate you.
The "more sexual than nice" perception my writing seems to inspire in some also sometimes leads to the assumption that I'd have a domme propensity. Again, incorrect. While I enjoy many kinds of sexual play all across the spectrum, if I had to choose one end of the BDSM scale to define me (and I hope I never have to), I'd say I tend more toward sub. Inside I am sweet and shy and even a bit emotionally innocent. And so a sexually confident man especially makes my sweet, shy, innocent toes curl in delight (a genuine sexually confident man, that is, not a fake sexually aggressive blowhard asshole who's just covering for his insecurities).
I like being seduced by someone who knows how to do it really well, and the excitement of that power dynamic. I like being (genuinely) flattered and flirted with and growled at. I like being held down. I like being talked dirty to. I like being spanked and (if appropriate) being given orders. I like a guy telling me in a voice thick with desire exactly what he's going to do to me and how hard he's going to do it, and the affect he wants it to have. I like being thrown on the bed. I like being fucked hard. In short, I like feeling the power of my guy's masculinity; and I like feeling the power of feeling delicate and femme under his strength.
Of course, those are all mildly subby qualities--they're not a lifestyle. But I like all those mildly sub things, very, very, very much.
But even more than that, if you really want to know what I'm like...well, what pleases me most is the interplay of seasoned sexual equals. Two sexually strong people coming together; worthy opponents who admire each other's skills and are ready to engage all night long, surprising and impressing each other with unexpected moves, until they're exhausted and panting and ready to drop. Lion and tigress; Batman and Catwoman; ninja and pirate; spy and assassin. But then, even in those scenarios, I ultimately like the guy to "overcome" in the end. In short, I like you to feel big and strong. Really big (and strong). 'Cause you are. And 'cause it gets me hot.
Also, along with these, I do enjoy some sweet, affectionate, heartfelt vanilla lovemaking, too. Best is having all the above mixed together, if you can imagine having all that in one. That's what I like.
So you see, not a tendency to dom.
This is not to say I don't ever have fantasies where I'm in the assertive position. I do. But even in those, the dominant role I'm playing tends far more toward seduction (e.g., he shouldn't be fucking me and is restraining himself from reacting, but I overcome his hesitation) or teasing (e.g., he's strong but tied up and can't get to me like he wants to; straining against his bonds--very hot). And even in those scenarios, eventually the guy becomes strong and asserts himself in the end.
This is also not to say I never initiate or never assert myself in bed. I do. I almost always get on top at some point in a session (to me this isn't even a dominant pose, but I know other people think it is). And just like in reverse, I like telling a guy exactly what I want to do to him--and what I want him to do to me. And I will definitely do things to you without you having to request or order me to. I will suggest and try things I'm interested in. I will talk dirty to you.
No, I am not a shrinking violet in the bedroom, even if I like a little sub spice. I will almost certainly ask for what I want if i want something, or ask you to keep doing something if I like it--maybe even beg or scream for it--but the main point is, I won't generally demand it and then hurt you if you don't give it to me.
Because I'm not a big fan of the big hurt, whether physically or emotionally, of either my partner or myself. Mild, teasing hurt, sure. Spanking? A little biting? A crop or a paddle? Why not. But clamps? Cutting? Asphyxiation? Real, serious pain? Meh. I can see the erotic possibilities of it from a fantasy perspective, but ultimately it's not sexy for me to watch in real life.
Also not sexy to me: a guy who crawls, cowers, whine-begs, wears diapers, acts like a baby. I'm not judging here; it works for some, and that's just fine--it just doesn't turn me on. I simply don't like weakness in a partner in bed.
That doesn't mean, however, I won't enjoy being dominant in bed, IF we've decided that's the game we're playing. But I don't naturally go that way unless asked, and I don't feel comfortable being asked until I've established a trusting and different, non-dom power dynamic with that person first. I need to know the expectation won't be that I'm always the dominant, and that my partner has already established his sexual strength. Because I find a powerful person willing to submit briefly for play to be incredibly sexy. He doesn't HAVE to, but he wants to let me feel the power balance shift in my favor. He wants to feel what it's like to surrender that power for a while and, for instance, be fucked by someone else (something I've yet to try, but that I would try with the right partner). He wants me to enjoy the role reversal. And in that kind of a dynamic, I do enjoy it. I like to see a strong, grown man out of his element, and feeling pleasure in it. For a special treat. But ultimately, I don't want to stay there all the time. If the person wants me to consistently be the dominant one, I feel misunderstood and unnatural. To do that would to be playacting 24/7, and I prefer sex to be very, very real.
So no, despite having an apparently "strong" writing voice (even though I personally think I sound consistently vulnerable on this blog), I don't want to dominate you. Unless you win me over first with your big, strong man self.
And I if I am just getting to know a guy and the first thing he wants me to do is dominate him, I always feel just a bit creeped out by it. Because then I know he hasn't really seen me, hasn't "gotten" me at all--he's just made an assumption. It happens sometimes. Often with macho types, ironically. They'll come on all strong and I'll be squirming with delight at their assertiveness and then suddenly when it gets down to the first real, crucial moment...they want me to humiliate or dominate them. It's always a disappointment on both a bait-and-switch level and also because I end up feeling completely misunderstood as a human.
And speaking of misunderstood:
Assumption #3: Because I talk about sex it means I want to fuck you, or that I'm an emotion-free Fembot designed specifically for your pleasure.
This one I feel really deserves no explanation--it should be an obvious fact of life. But it is shocking to me how often men themselves are shocked by a woman who will talk about sex with frankness and openly say she enjoys it. And equally shocking to me are the assumptions some of them make based on that reality. I mean, come on fellas, is it really that rare these days? When a GUY talks to you about sex, do you assume he wants to fuck you, regardless of his orientation?
So for the record: just because I talk about sex with you doesn't mean I want to have sex with you. It means simply that I like talking about sex as one of many topics I enjoy talking about. It doesn't mean I am trying to turn you on, even if you do get turned on. Saying that I enjoy sex doesn't mean I'm thinking of having it with you. Necessarily. Of course, any of those conditions may be true: in some cases I might want to fuck the guy I'm talking to, or tease him to arousal, or I might be thinking about having sex with him. But this is not the rule by a long shot.
Think of it this way. Women talk about sex with their girlfriends a lot, but often not men BECAUSE of this very misconception. If you're a man and you want more women talking with you about sex, get past this misconception. When I talk to men about sex, I'm being equal opportunity. That is all (most of the time).
And also: no, I don't see sex as separate from emotion just because I'm openly sexual. Yes, I like sex. AND I don't do casual sex. These can actually coexist. I don't like or respect people who assume because I'm sexually open that I'll take intimacy lightly and think I'm cool with being treated casually after they've gotten off. I think it's rude and disrespectful. And as such I tend to be very picky about my partners. Of course, everyone makes mistakes sometimes, but I try my best to choose wisely to meet this expectation of mine. Many of you would probably be surprised at the relatively low number of full-blown (ahem) lovers I've had.
Anyway, to sum up: women do talk about sex. Get over it. Sometimes a cigar vibe conversation is just a cigar vibe conversation.
Assumption #4: Because I sometimes blog about sex, the first thing I want to talk about with you is sex.
In fact, the direct opposite is true. Off blog, the more likely a person is to head right into the sex conversation without attempting to speak to me like a normal person who probably has a variety of interests, the less likely I am to respond to them. Sex is only one of many interests of mine and only a small portion of what I'm about, just like you. And you don't need to communicate with me about sex, because you get to read that part of me on this blog (at least, you used to; lately the topic hasn't been inspiring a lot of writing). I like people; I am interested in smart, funny, interesting, multifaceted, humans. This is who I find pleasure in interacting with. I have absolutely no interest in communicating with "a raging hard on that has evolved the ability to type" (god, I wish I'd come up with that genius line).
Now if you can just imagine me saying that in the sweetest voice ever, maybe it won't sound so harsh. Heh.
End point: A blog gives you very little to go on. Even when people are totally genuine, we are all of us more than we appear in the little glimpses of ourselves we give you. I myself have been surprised multiple times when I've met online people in real life and something about them has completely clashed with my perception of them.
So, now....some of the assumptions above you may have held about me, some you may not have. I'm curious: Just for fun, what image of me do/did you have in your head? What do I look like, sound like, act like, dress like? I promise to debunk all misconceptions offered with the real picture (unless you ask me not to).
And for those of you who already know me off blog a bit--or for anyone else--what misperceptions do you run into most between your writing and in-the-flesh selves?
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Photo credit: moveable-type-blog by pub_lick_smith
