I’m lazy

As I lay back, your mouth on my cock, my head on the pillow, I think, “Why am I so fucking lazy?”

It’s simply true that, for all of my love of eating pussy, given my druthers, I would simply be ministered to. (AND this laziness is far more potent, far more manifest, when it comes to fucking than to pussy-eating.)

During my years (and years, and years) of acting out sexually, my primary “M.O.” was to go to massage parlors, where I would lie still on a table, silent – or at least quiet – while a woman rubbed my body, and ultimately my cock, until I came. Often I would touch a bit too, and occasionally the interaction would escalate into something more… mutual… but the truth is, I was perfectly content simply to lie there.

And this is true in my post-commercial sex life as well.

I could hunt for some Oedipal or pre-Oedipal roots to this preference, but the bottom line is, it (can) make(s) me a boring sexual partner. I’m very self-conscious about it, and I think, on some level, it’s part of what I so prefer about the dominant way of being: I get to demand what I want, and to be entitled to it. It’s really more a form of selfishness than of power. And to be honest, I try hard not to be that boring, lazy guy who just lies there. And mostly, I think, I”m not. But sometimes – maybe often – I am.

I’ve written elsewhere about my relationship to dominance, about what I get out of it, what I seek in it, how I practice it. But it’s unquestionably true that, when sex is happening to me, I want to lie still and be touched, or sucked, or fucked. I’ll take you on top any day over me fucking you from behind (in spite of all evidence that 99.9% of women prefer being fucked from behind).

I’ll explore this more in coming days, I expect. And welcome, as ever, your thoughts.

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