Thursday, 27 August 2009

Teaching us to think dirty

Everybody's talking about.

Of COURSE everybody is talking about it, you can't turn a metaphorical corner without having it thrust under your nose. Sex, obviously. According to those in the know (magazines, apparently) everybody is doing it. Again, duh. It's enjoyable right? It's something everybody should indulge in.

Despite this free and open-minded society we live in, I can't help but feel a bit stifled. By one area in particular. Advisory articles. How to be sexy. How to feel sexy. How to make him think he feels sexy. How to tell the world you feel sexy when you don't feel sexy through the use of sexy body language. We appear to have crafted a world that is so fascinated by sexuality that there is the need to paint by numbers when it comes to exploration. This to me, seems insane. Whatever happened to just turning down the lights and having an evening with your lover, where you talk about things that get you going, thus leading to consensual, adult fun. Instead there is this need to enact "position of the week" which just seems a little contrived to me. Can just picture it..

"Ok, I'm ready... let's try that new thing"
"What, NOW?"
"Yes, now, I'm nearly finished"
"Oh... well... ok, your left leg needs to be that side.."
"Hang on."
"Sorry, hold on..."
"That's it, stop there"
"I can't hold that!"
"I think I sprained something.."

I'm probably being over dramatic of course, but perhaps I am just too deeply involved in living my life with fetish undertones. The power of suggestion, and experimentation. Which I am all for, remember.

I just resent being told by a Sexpert (that's a valid job title now, though lord knows what the BTEC certificate might say) that I should be doing things a certain way, or trying certain things to other people's specifications.

I just want to have sex for christ sake, not perform genital acrobatics.

With that in mind, I'd like to point anyone who may read this to my favourite publication for open-minded attitudes towards sex. Of course there is the odd "Sex by numbers" thing, but the forum is well worth checking out.

And remember to stay safe. If he takes down his pants and it's green, it's fair to say you don't want it inside you.

Tuesday, 25 August 2009

In the beginning... Rubber and Latex.

Today, I want to talk about rubber clothing. Take a look at the picture on the left (credits to THIS is the dress I am currently hankering after most, above all other clothing. Yet, to point this out to people in my close circle of friends, the response is generally "oh my gosh!" or "oh.. that's different". Which is fine, really. Variation of taste is a concept that I can grasp fine. To be honest, I never used to think rubber or latex was for evening wear, so to speak. I thought that it belonged behind closed doors with your partner. With friends. At themed parties for close-knit groups. I can't pinpoint the exact time in my life where my mind relaxed and saw that I wanted to wear these things ALL the time.

There is one particular event I can think of that epitomises this most, and so reaching the crux, the nitty gritty of my first blog here.

Torture Garden. Arguably the world's best known fetish night. Around the world, on selected nights, popular nightclubs become luxurious boudoirs, in which open minded, sexually thinking adults can play, explore and generally follow their desires. My first Torture Garden experience involved a great deal of nerves, anticipation and excitement. Dressing somewhat modestly by fetish terms, I waited to go in with a good friend of mine, who was a great deal more relaxed about the whole thing. The moment we were in though, any doubts I could have rambled about melted away with a gentle breath of decadent sexuality. Bodies, all shapes and sizes, clad in a mindfucking array of clothing, meshing together as sumptuous music carried along the dingy corridors.

As the night frolicked into twilight hours, there was a realisation that shuddered blissfully up my spine. When a person cast their eyes up and down you, they were not passing judgement, not by any means. They were enjoying you. Hundreds of pairs of eyes hungrily devouring you, as a visual entity. And my god, when I realised this I felt amazing. And it's a feeling that is very addictive let me tell you. When you wear a rubber outfit at a fetish night, you become a sexually awakened person, one that feels every burning pair of eyes that bores into their curves, their bones, their mind.

Long story short, I want every insecure person to try going to a fetish night. To slip into an item of rubber or latex and just let the night flow into morning. It's not for everyone, and some people might never choose to go again, which of course is fine. But for each of those people, there just could be someone that has ignited a burning desire for exploration and feels the addiction that sweeps into their very core when they realise that wearing latex, makes you, to others, a sexually confident, beautiful and proud human.

Mmm.. sexy.