Not So Strange Bedfellows

Here we are, plowing into the second half of October, and actually feeling pretty good.  Yes, things can go better economically, but beyond that I have this general sense of well being that seemed to keep my running.  It’s all leading up to something wonderful coming–or maybe it’ll be a good time to crash and burn.  We’ll see, won’t we?

I was out driving around last night, my mind doing strange things–like that’s a surprise.  Once, long ago in the month of May, I was out driving at night and came up with an idea for a story, but like a lot of other ideas it went nowhere.  I mean, it’s still there, but right now that idea is sort of dormant, and when I get a little more of an urge to write about college students playing around with being lesbians, then I will.  (Though there is a scene from that story that takes place in a theater–yeah, I still get that–)

I have no idea where my mind was last night.  I was tired–I still am–but not so tired I couldn’t spend 40 minute behind the wheel late at night safely.  I think my mind was just in that mode where anything that seems normal could turn sideways on you at any moment.

I think part of this came out of a group I’m in on a certain social media network.  Initially the group was suppose to be about “adult discussion” of things sexual.  I’m all for that, ’cause if there’s one thing that seems to be missing from a lot of discussions on the more, shall we say . . . intense aspects of human sexuality, it’s adults.  And, yes: they do state that anything goes in the room, that it doesn’t always have to be discussions about sex, and I’m fine with that, because you can’t really go sexy talkin’ day and night.

However . . ..

For a while now what’s been posted are a number of bad jokes, bitching about things like “my car got dented!” and a few pictures here and there of people being tied up.  And when there was a sexual discussion, it involved a few of the group’s women bitching about penis size.

Disappointed much?  Yeah, I am.

There was one discussion that got to me thought, and it was about using BDSM to spice up your sex life.  Sure, it always goes there eventually, because whenever discussion on bondage come up, it’s always cast in terms of how does this affect your sex life.

I was very much in the minority of the discussion, however, when I stated that people shouldn’t get BDSM confused with sexuality, because they are very much two completely different things.  To me, I don’t see something like bondage having a component that automatically leads to sex.  I can see it as being something that goes beyond sex.

But for a lot of people it’s all about getting to the orgasm, and since being tied up or spanked or wearing fetish clothing can lead to an orgasm, BDSM = Sex, and how can you use the former to spice up the later?

Since I’ve been slowly getting back into erotica, the notion has come to me that sex really isn’t a big part of erotica.  Oh, sure, all roads can lead to Roaming Fingers, but of late some of my discussions have involved situations where a couple can actually transcend sexuality, and turn even the simplest act erotic.  Part of yesterday’s musings were on this subject, and my mind was going there last night during my trip home.

Could a couple really become so in tuned with each other that they are not only instinctively aware of each other’s needs, but they have moved beyond the bonds of sexuality and exist upon another a level of eroticism that is almost impossible for others to understand?

I feel the answer is “yes”.  I’m sure a majority of people will say “no”, but I’m not one to go with what others say here.  ‘Cause I’ve encountered a few things that lead me to believe that, yes, when you are totally in bed with another person (and I don’t mean that literally) who is clicking on the same frequencies as you, then it’s not about sex or orgasms or even what one thinks of as erotica.

It’s gone to a level of sensuality that will redefine everything.

The only issues I have now–and what I was going over in my head last night–is how do I write that?

Because there is a story there.  It’s inside me.  All I gotta do is whip it out.

And I mean that in a good way.