I fear your desire.
Why? I’m not sure.
I need to imagine that your desire for me – intense, desperate – is also potentially fleeting, conditional.
Not consciously, of course. No, consciously I want to be the possessor of the only cock you’ll ever need again, to be the only way you can imagine slaking your thirst, satisfying your hunger.
But somewhere deep beneath those conscious wishes lie my true hopes and fears. What I really hope isn’t that you need me, but that you don’t, that, in spite of not needing me, you’re willing to give yourself to me.
(This, I suspect, is why I’ve spent so much of my adult life paying for sex – because if I’m paying you, then there’s structural evidence that you don’t, actually, want or need me – at least not enough to get you to give yourself to me.)
I don’t know what I fear more – your desire, or your desire for ME – but each is, in the end, terrifying to me.
My brand of dominance is a clever end-run around this fear, removing your desire from the equation. If you agree to do as I ask, yes, I hope it will get you wet, it will get you off, but I also hope to be protected from any of your own freestanding desire, because you agree to subordinate your desire to mine. You want what I want, no more, no less, no different.
Somehow, this relates to my tastes in porn, too: by far my favorite porn site is OnlyAllSites, a collection of sites that features no sex at all, and only barely acknowledges the existence of sex (or vaginas, or penises). The sites feature hundreds of women, clothed, and, progressively, unclothed, but rarely fully nude. It allows extensive searching by outfit type, and glories in the gradual revelation of women’s bodies (but, notably, rarely do they reveal their vaginas). This is catnip for me: hundreds of women, posing for my gaze, but keeping the final treasure resolutely from (my) view.
How, why this came to be my ultimate visual sexual stimulation is a question for another day, but it sure intrigues me.
This really slapped me.