Attraction is a Moving Target

I was at a large pagan convention on Saturday. Boyfriend and I sat down with a group of people we knew to have dinner. I was next to a very gender-queer individual. This person was dressed in a corseted green velvet Renaissance-style gown with high heeled boots and had a full, bushy beard and mustache. The multiple, conflicting gender cues and the fact that this person was clearly interested in me was appealing. I had a lot of fun ordering the person to kneel on the ground to give deep, hard neck bites in the lobby as non-pagans who just happened to be at the hotel on an odd weekend looked on in confusion.

So, gender-queer person (GQP) and I wandered outside with a beautiful trans woman that I had been in play space with before, but had never really interacted with. She seemed interested in me too. The idea of a threesome with me, hot trans woman (HTW), and large-breasted/bearded/corseted GQP suddenly seemed very appealing. Just the intersection of so many types of queer sexual orientation/gender identification - in addition to being the most "masculine" one involved while still being the only cis-gendered female in the threesome - made it seem like an experience that I needed to make happen.

We found a cuddly proto-orgy happening in one of the hotel rooms. I got naked and started giving people massage to join in. Soon GQP was down to bra and fake breasts, I was hair-pulling and biting, HTC started to get involved - but then lost interest. I told GQP to leave bra on, but it eventually came off. Suddenly, I realized that the hairy legs I had caught a glimpse of under the dress peeking over the tops of the boots that had been SUCH a turn-on were no longer appealing now that GQP looked like any other naked hairy man. Kissing became uncomfortable. I had no interest in anything other than giving pain and sensation play. Luckily GQP was very subby and seemed completely okay with it. Even interest in that was fading after a while and I was glad when the other couple left in the room asked us to give them some private space and I had an excuse to get dressed and leave. I felt incredibly shallow as I realized that if the dress had stayed on I would have willingly - HAPPILY - done so much more. Attraction can be so arbitrary. Or maybe that's just me!

Later that same night I was part of another cuddly threesome with the same HTW and a gorgeous cis-gendered woman (CGW) that, up until that very moment, I thought I had not been attracted to. As she invited me to cuddle with her and told me how much she appreciated my presence I realized that what I thought was lack of attraction had actually been fear of rejection. She is very stereotypically beautiful in that head-cheerleader kind of way, incredibly intelligent, and I didn't expect her to invite me into her circle. CGW, HTW and I spent most of the next two days together sharing, bonding, and I think it ended up being a very healing experience for all of us. Sex and sensuality blended into just holding and loving.

Such a contrast. To have the first experience end within hours of the second one beginning has made the lesson even clearer to me: I need to slow down and listen more to what is right in the moment instead of trying to create what I think I want. I need to reserve judgement of others and stop assuming that I know how they feel about me.

Valentine's Day - FOR REAL!

So... The last post was titled "Valentine's Day" and I mentioned it briefly in the beginning, but ended up spending most of the entry rambling about Halloween. So sorry. Here's the rest of Valentine's Day:

Valentine's Date invited me to Pillow Fight Club in San Francisco. It's an annual flash mob and it is brutal. As the clock tower strikes 6 the feathers start to fly in Herman Plaza. I wore goggles, but they seemed to make me an even more inviting target. As I was searching for Date I was stopped by a reporter who asked why I had come. "Simple," I said. "Nothing puts me in the mood for romance like beating the crap out of people."

One of Date's exes had come too. She and I teamed up, made our way through the crowd a few times, and sprinkled feathers in each other's hair before she had to leave.

Date and I decided to move on and wandered up to Coit Tower. Stopped anywhere there was a view to make out. He has figured out how much I like being bitten and having my hair pulled. I was working hard not to moan and make all the tourists uncomfortable.

Then we walked to Chinatown for dinner at Utopia, stopping for gelato in North Beach on the way. Skimming the menu, the perfect Valentine's selection jumped out at me: fish balls with bitter melon. We took pictures of the feather debris still attached to my shoes and the giant bruise forming on the bridge of his nose from the fight.

Took BART back to his place and listened to a mash-up of La Isla Bonita and Alejandro as he tied me securely to his bed, then spanked and fisted me.

Valentine's Day

My Valentine's Day date told me, as we climbed the stairs to Coit Tower, that he didn't understand why I wasn't an Internet celebrity already. I told him it was because I am far too boring.

I've been dating this one for a couple months. We met last Halloween at a party hosted by a polyamorous co-housing community in the South Bay. I was dressed in a German barmaid's outfit wearing my strap-on (with a pretty purple dildo I had borrowed from an erotic clown because it matched my skirt) under the fluffy black petticoat. I was there with my boyfriend, one of his other girlfriends, and her "partner-with-benefits" who looks exactly like Abraham Lincoln.

Boyfriend, his girlfriend and I were all on very friendly cuddling terms and made a happy puppy pile in front of the fireplace. He-who-was-to-become-my-Valentine's-date was lounging in a giant armchair and caught sight of the dildo under the skirt. He had many questions - most of them technical in nature - about use, sensation for giver and receiver, technique...

Boyfriend, his girlfriend, and I moved on to the hot tub. It was a small 4-6 seater. We soon had 12 people squeezed in. I ended up in the lap of a cute young boy while someone attacked my neck and shoulders with deep, hard bites. Another man asked if there was anything he could do for me, so I directed him to massage my back as I was getting bitten and put my feet in the lap of the woman across from me - which she was kind enough to massage. He-who-was-to-become-my-Valentine's-date joined the tub. It came out that I was a certified massage therapist and he started asking technical questions about musculoskeletal anatomy and massage technique. I made a valiant effort to answer coherently through the delicious haze created by teeth, deep effluerage, and warm water. The back massager offered me a tour of the SF Bay in his sailboat, which I ultimately turned down. The biter and I scheduled an impact play session together. He-who-was-to-become-my-Valentine's-date and I made an appointment to trade massage a couple weeks later.