Friday, May 10, 2013

16. There are virgins in my head


            I’ve mentioned the deflowering of virgins. It’s one of the things I look for in porn. I think though, that I may have said it and just played through as though that was it. In reality I have to admit that I’m a little preoccupied with the idea. Infatuated, maybe. I don’t have sex fantasies like I imagine other people do. If I’m having a fantasy, imagining something happening to me or living a life that I don’t, it’s not about sex at all, it’s about needing to escape from the world for awhile. It’s about what it would be like to live on a pre-Christian earth, or it’s a new chapter and custom developed character in one of my favorite books. I think we all imagine things for ourselves, don’t we? If you’ve been the one everyone leans on at work for weeks on end, you might put yourself to sleep with the idea of somebody rescuing you for a change. Or if you’ve been used and unable to do anything about it, you picture the revenge, right? Justice served, redemption, we fix these things for ourselves, when the universe isn’t doing it for us. I think that’s normal. (If it isn’t, don’t tell me – just let me go on believing I’m not weird for it. I’m weird in enough other ways.) I also think it’s normal for people to have sex fantasies, it’s just that I don’t do those the same way. Don’t think I don’t make up stories about sex. I have many original erotic scenarios that play out in my head, but I’m not in any of them. They do not involve me. I watch them like movies. I don’t know why I don’t participate in my own brain porn. Maybe it’s the nature of the scenarios: They are all about virgins being deflowered. I’m pretty sure that’s not even an exaggeration. If there are any alternate plots or images, I can’t think of them off the top of my head. My head is full of virgins. If I’m about to orgasm and I’m not focused on the immediate present, watching and feeling and actively experiencing, trying to memorize every moment of what’s happening to my body and mind in that exact, delicious point in time, if my brain has unhooked itself and been swept away in the sensation of being righteously fucked, I’m thinking about virgins. Guaranteed.
            I don’t know why this is. I don’t think it stems from my history. My own first time was neither exciting nor catastrophic. It’s ridiculous to say “nobody ever” in a world so full of people; anything you can think of has likely been done at one point or another, but the number of women who reach vaginal orgasm during their first time has to be so small that “nobody ever” can’t be all that far off the mark. It hurts. There’s no getting around that, is there? Even if you don’t have a hymen, the penis would have to be pretty damn small not to stretch you beyond where you’ve been stretched before. So I think most of us have a deflowering story that’s either traumatic or embarrassing or sort of uneventful, beyond the life event of no longer being a virgin. I know there are lots of people with stories that are sweet and loving or whatever, but as far as the physical sensations go? I don’t think those really make great fantasy material either. I had a boyfriend who was five years older than I was, and in college. He’d been a counselor at my summer camp – the cute one, even – so he was a major score and of course I was totally caught up. I knew what I was doing. I lost my virginity on purpose. But as far as those physical sensations go, hell yes it hurt, and no way was I even close to orgasm, at any time. I pulled his head down next to my ear (missionary), so he couldn’t see the pain on my face, and I waited for him to finish. I guess it was good for him because he came twice (I didn’t even know enough to know that was unusual), but all my pleasure came from the knowledge that I’d gone through with it. That was it. So what’s the appeal?
            Unlike how I did it, the vast majority of the virgins in my head don’t know what they are in for. The one I think of as the first virgin (though honestly I don’t know if she really was there before the others), doesn’t intend to lose it at all. She has said, previous to the act, that she doesn’t want to. It’s not a rape fantasy though. My head doesn’t go there. It’s a manipulation. He talks her into letting him put the head of his cock against her pussy and asks her if it feels good. Of course it does. When she admits that, he takes it as a reversal of her decision and is so quick to shower her with “I knew you’d like it” and flattering dirty talk over how good and hot and tight she is that she lets it happen in order to live up to his praise and expectations of her. She makes no attempt to stop him. She lets herself believe he didn’t exploit her naïveté, that he didn’t engineer the whole thing. Okay so it’s borderline date rape. Maybe not even borderline, but she’s not unhappy afterwards. At least she wouldn’t be if I ever let her get to afterwards, but I never do. Either I’m back in the moment by then or I’ve brought up a new virgin. I have a lot of them to choose from. There’s one in corset and petticoats – you know how I love the false historical porn – who loses it in public in the balcony of an opera house. Half the people in the other balcony boxes are watching her instead of the opera (you’ve seen Dangerous Liaisons, right?), so she can’t protest for fear that they will laugh at her, not to mention her desire to please the man who skillfully arranged for it to happen. Actually I can get her twice: Sometimes the opera happens the night after she’s been deflowered, so she’s still incredibly sore. Her lover exploits that while he has her bent over the rail by pulling out to save her the pain and taking her in the ass, instead, whispering to her that no one can tell where his cock is, so as long as she doesn’t show her surprise, they can’t tell how much she likes it there. Yeah, most of the men are total assholes in disguise. There’s one who is especially bad. The girl in question is a willing participant, but he makes her look him in the eyes at the moment of breach, so he can see the pain of it on her face, makes her tell him as it happens, say it out loud… The scenes aren’t all about fear and discomfort, though. I’ve actually played with that idea of how it could be possible to have a vaginal orgasm the first time having sex. That’s another willing girl – more than willing – she’s dying to lose it, but her lover has dragged it out. He has spent weeks doing everything else to her, teaching her, bringing her to orgasm with fingers and toys, so that she is accustomed to coming before she ever feels a cock inside her. Imagine how great an orgasm that would be, if it was the first time you’d ever felt your pussy full of real, flesh and blood cock. (I wonder now if that happens to women who saved themselves until they weren’t young and stupid. Maybe it’s not as uncommon as I’ve always assumed. I’ve mostly only known women who lost their virginities as I did, at a very young age – which I guess is why all the virgins in my head are girls. There is one woman I know. I’ll have to ask.)
            I guess when I start lining them all up like this, it’s pretty clear what must be the appeal for me, after all. The thing they all have in common is a lack of control. You don’t have to read back very far here to see that’s got me written all over it. Some aspect of knowingly being used. (In fact, sometimes even that man in the delayed, orgasm intended deflowering brings in somebody else at the last minute to do the actual deed, much to the virgin’s ineffective dismay.) Maybe that's also why I'm not in any of my own sex scenarios - like I said, my virgins never know what they are in for. The hottest part of the scene is knowing exactly what's going on. This has been happening to me a lot, lately: I have some really early memory or take a close look at something that’s been true of me forever, and see obvious evidence of the submissive it took me so long to recognize in myself. For a smart person, I can be pretty fucking obliviously stupid. So, virgins. Young ones. There aren’t many people more easily manipulated sexually, than young virgins who want to please a man. I guess it’s no wonder my head is full of them.


(Fourteen, fifteen, close enough.)

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