Pleasing me

A couple of times lately, with at least three different women, I’ve noticed an unfortunate feature of the workings of my desire. Even the most perfect compliance can be drowned out in my head by too much enthusiasm. And by “too much,” I mean something dangerously like “any.”

Here are a couple of examples of actual written and spoken sentences that have caused me to recoil:

“I want to please you.”
“I enjoy making you happy.”
“Please tell me if there are other things I can do for you.”

I know, I know. I’m fucking crazy.

The truth is, I WANT those things to be true. I WANT you to want to please me, to enjoy making me happy. But somehow, hearing you say that trips me up.

Here’s a hypothesis. I’m not confident it’s correct, but I suspect it may well be:

The problem with these formulations is they make me feel a little too confident, too comfortable, that you won’t leave me. While I certainly don’t want you to leave me, and don’t want to be actively WORRIED you might leave me, I think that, somehow, if the risk is diminished TOO far, that’s anathematic to tumescence.

Like I said, I’m not sure. I want to read back over my exchanges with L, V, and Sofia, each of whom was so well calibrated to the workings of my desire, none of whom ever fell into this trap, to my recollection (other than as symptoms of the ends of our relationships, I should say).

And one other thought: I think, also, that I’m sensitive to the sense of being obligated. One form of obligation doesn’t trouble me at all: I don’t mind owing you respectful treatment, consideration, and orgasms. But another form – the form that can result in disappointment, in failure on my part – is somehow terrifying to me. And the more I know you want from me, the more I fear disappointing you, letting you down, failing you. So there’s that….

I know this is fragmentary, but it’s been in my mind, and I’ve been busy, and I wanted to post something…. Questions, thoughts, reactions are, of course, welcome – they always help me refine my thinking.

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