Why do people say ‘I have loved you since the first time I saw you?’ I have often asked myself whenever I come across declarations of love.
Maybe it because they later realise the unexplainable, magnetic feeling at the first moment was love.
I can say I have never felt that type of love. Lust. Definitely. But not love at first sight.
The one. There is no one ‘the one’. That is something I’ve learnt. Me. Mad love. Men? Maybe. I have found the one twice. Thrice. Five times actually. Certainty assures me I’m going to meet more. Each love was different and with some it wasn’t even love.
The one is a list of qualities in a person compatible enough to create wanted memories.
Having sex with a partner you are in love with. I find this type of sex too heightened, self conscious. Moving, slow. Often clumsy but loving. Sex when you’re in love is better, they say.
Sensually heaving above straddled slimmer hips while depressed is invigorating. It reveals empty sadness and a feel good activity tumbling in bed. I usually stay off sex during bouts of depression. “I’m unwell” I say. Other times I utilise the admiration, comfort, companionship to help my ill self.
Darts, licks and nibbling by tongues inject my lost mind with vigor and brief life. These are the times I’m your dream casual sex partner or withdrawn lover. No post coitus showers together. My usually dancing naked figure will quietly dress up and leave. Cuddling is unwanted. Depression wants you to make me feel good but I doubt the genuinity of your care.
Even though the happy and sad emotional extremes shape my sexual experience. My favourite is right in the middle. When I’m content, healthy and with someone new.
Newness is so intoxicating.
Its a time to explore, discover, observe, experiment. I’m referring to the first time or first three times. A humbling moment of realization, you have been accepted.
Newness is exhilarating. There is a pleasure I get from reading a resolved plot or receiving alerts about returns from investments. Being with someone new is a sensual overload of learning, pleasure, anxiousness and excitment. Using my gaze to follow their nakedness being unwrapped for the first time is…is…it just is! Is indescribable.
Its why I no longer bother to remember my body count. A male friend says, “its a reason why men cheat”.
Fuck the sex. Its the beauty of witnessing the unveiling of the free black form in all it’s melaninated curved glory.
Beauty? Its the mundane process of getting to know this potential lover. This unveiling being maybe the only way you desire to know them. Of seeing the world through their eyes. Regardless of how brief it might be. Drop mind explorations. Its the primal grinding, sweating, clasping, licking, pumping of black magical beings. The thrill of being yet again another self of you. Though that first time isn’t always the best experience.
If I have learnt anything about sexual experience and mental states.
I have learnt..
Sex. The activity, its biology or social implications aside. Its different emotions help shape its enjoyment. As such sex can be disconstructed to these feelings. If you can’t identify what you need. Your want of companionship from a casual sex partner will ruin your chances of toe curling oral oragsms from them. For example.
Or you’ll find yourself fanning the yellow flames of an invigorating affair while in loving relationship.
In whatever mental or emotional state I am submerged in. I promise to identify what I want my sexual experience to satisfy. I must be unshamed being in these states.