I’ve been thinking a lot about intimacy lately, a change in relationship status and thinking about what you want from future relationships makes that an understandable line of thought. Back in November, I wrote Love Tells; How Do I Spot Them? While it wasn’t a question I asked in the post, I think part of the thinking behind that writing was ‘how intimate is too intimate if you’re not in love/in a relationship’.
Historically I am not great at physical affection, I have always accepted this and claimed ownership for it as part of my personality. I think I have been wrong all this time. I recently said the words ‘… because I’m not very cuddly …’ to my current friend in fuckery and he actually stopped me midsentence to exclaim ‘What? You’re super cuddly!’ I realised when I thought on it that he was right, he gets loads of cuddles from me and actually only half as many as I’d like to give because it’s just not always possible.
As soon as I see him though I want to hug him, if we start watching a movie together no way am I sitting anywhere but curled up beside him and bedtime is super snuggly. I have no mental barries when it comes to being physically affectionate towards him, I’ve actually never tried to hold any of it back and I had to wonder why that was considering how I have been in past dynamics, the reason I think is very simple … sex.
This is the most I have ever fucked anyone in the early stages of our interactions. It is also the only time I’ve ever continuously engaged in the kind of fucking I’ve wanted for a long time. That’s not to say I haven’t been fucked like this in the past, I have, but this is a prolonged period of time where what we want from fucking is the same on both sides. It’s a fucking revelation I can tell you.
While I don’t think sex is something everyone needs for intimacy, I’ve come to realise it is something I need. I think I’ve known that for a long time and didn’t feel like I could own that feeling, I’m not sure why, lots of reasons I think, the last couple of months have shown me that I need to be honest about this going forward though. I want the fucking as part of my intimacy, it makes me feel wanted, it makes me feel good about myself and most of all it makes me want to pull a person into my physical space in other ways.
I mentioned earlier that bedtimes are snuggly with my friend in fuckery and I must admit the bed-sharing has given me many moments of contemplation. As it stands (as far as I know, because we’re doing that excellent thing of not entirely communicating) we are not in a relationship, but we are I suppose friends with benefits? The benefits not only being fucking but sharing dinners, watching movies, going out for drinks, we did go on one proper date too which was a delight and then we have the lovely benefit of cuddles while we sleep.
I do find bed-sharing to be an intimate act, I don’t know if he feels the same, I suspect maybe not. This does mean I’ve wondered on many occasions if I’m asking for trouble by sleeping in his bed as often as I have. It feels so good though and that closeness and warmth of being next to someone at night is really bloody lovely and on the nights I’ve been determined to say ‘actually, you know what, I’m going home’ when it comes down to it the pull of his naked body curling into mine is too hard to resist.
We have done well at resisting one thing though, or rather crossed-wires had us both respecting the others wishes not to do it and that was kissing. Now if you’ve read That’s My Kink – Kissing you will know that I am a huge fan of kissing, somehow he thought I wasn’t and I assumed he was not indulging because kissing can be super intimate for some people and I thought perhaps he felt like kissing didn’t vibe with what we were doing.
I won’t lie, none of that stopped me wanting to kiss him, but actually, the wanting was fun in itself and that feeling that stirred in my belly when I thought about my lips on his was incredibly satisfying but even once we’d established that our reasons for not kissing were not entirely correct we still didn’t do it … until yesterday!
This post was partly written when we met yesterday and I had no idea how our evening would pan out, okay that’s a lie, I knew a good chunk of what was likely to unfold, but damn I was caught by surprise when my brain caught up and realised kissing was being had. Fuck my life it felt nice though and it did feel intimate and intimate felt amazing.
I think where the lines get drawn in terms of intimacy in alternative relationship models is unique to the individuals involved. I have in the past been reluctant to open the doors on certain kinds of intimacy, and by the time I’ve relented and given them space to breathe they were tied in with so much anxiety over what they meant or how they’d be judged that I think they were never free to just blossom and exist in the lovely ways they should.
I’m not saying I don’t have any wobbles left when it comes to intimacy, I’m sure I do, but I must admit I’m completely done with being so guarded over what kind of intimate acts I enjoy with someone. If I’m honest, that could be leading me to a whole load of heartbreak and tears, but maybe that’s okay. I wonder if perhaps that is how it’s meant to be and I’ve spent far too long trying to micro-manage intimacy and the effects it has on me.
As it stands right now I like my new approach, I like worrying less and enjoying more and it feels good to let go of strange hang-ups that I’ve long since forgotten the root cause of but that certainly aren’t serving any positive purpose in my life.