This is what I always hoped sex would be like! Wonderboy exclaimed after sex last Saturday as we rolled on the bed exhausted and sweaty.
Just what people would give their left ear for to hear after sex, right? But no. Nothing’s ever that simple, because he didn’t stop there.
I’ll never need another woman, when you’re so thin and sexy, he added.
I am thinner now. I know I look better. I even feel better – and sexier. But.
I have pretty mixed feelings about that. He doesn’t need another woman, because I’m thin now? What the fuck? I know it was meant as a compliment, and he just meant to say that everything’s better than he hoped it would be. But still. Was I on the changing list before? That was the same me, by the way. I might gain weight again – and if we manage to get pregnant, the weight might even stay a while… or years. Would I be interchangeable then?
I know I’m being a little unfair here, because in all honesty I think I’d want him to change, too, if he was really fat. And maybe I wouldn’t see him as as desirable. But when he had pounded me from the back holding onto my waist and slapping my butt and twisting me by the hair… I still feel like I’m just one Sexy Dreamgirl Shell and that I have been fitted in the place of a porn actress.
This is what Clarisse Thorn writes about the sexy dreamgirl shell (above in the link) girls are so adept at putting on even before we ever learn what we desire and how sex feels like to us:
There was a while there, where my sexuality was mostly performance: an image, an act, a shell that I created because I knew it was hot for my partners. I’m not saying I was performing 100 percent of the time—but certainly, when I was just starting to have sex, that’s mostly what it was. And, scarily, I can put the shell back on at any time. Sometimes it’s hard to resist, because I know men will reward me for it, emotionally, with affection and praise. It’s much, much more difficult to get what I actually want out of a sexual interaction than it is for me to create that sexy dreamgirl shell: hard for me to communicate my desires, hard for me to know what I’m thinking, hard for me to set boundaries.
I feel like I’m being judged by my performance. With the hormones I’m taking, I’m less prone to moan out loud, I don’t get turned on as quickly, I require a lot of straight clitoral stimulation and lot of the d/s play just doesn’t turn me on. Now he’s been moody about that, and I’ve been supportive and have tried to explain, how I feel and why it is so… But after yesterday’s 3 hour maraton apologize fest I’m left angry and hurt. My desire and enjoyment seems to be a priority, when he states, how he feels, when the signs of my lust and enjoyment have changed. But when my straight-worded feedback is not believed, is disregarded, and I am constantly blamed for being different and from not taking enjoyment out of something he does… it ends up feeling a lot more entitled, self-centered and just plain bad self esteem.
He can’t handle the fact that I don’t moan out load all the time and answer to his every touch with a shiver? He can’t handle the fact that I ask him to touch my clitoris in a certain way and guide him more, when he licks me? He can’t handle the fact that I don’t get off on penetration alone anymore? Well, tough shit. How do you think I FEEL?
I’m not the dreamgirl anymore, to myself at least. I have to learn to live with a body that functions a lot like many women describe their sexual body functioning like. But to him the most important part is that I look the part. I feel like he just wants the shell. I do not want to act, I want to make the most of this body, however way it functions, and I have been satisfied with how we have managed to play together against all odds. Why does that not matter at all?
So, why haven’t we had sex in a week? Hmmm. Let me think.