I don’t know if anyone’s noticed, but I don’t write about sex much. Mostly that’s because unless I’m talking ancient history then I’m talking in part about Kristin. And I’m trying hard to respect her notions of privacy. Must be hard for her to be married to such a linguistic exhibitionist. If it were up to me I would be trumpeting all over this blog every single time I got laid. I would have a little ticker somewhere. “[blank] battles won in the war against LBD” [the stereotypical Lesbian Bed Death for those of you who don't know]. I’d put a little bird flying around my blog chirping details. Well, maybe the bird would be going too far. But, believe me -- people would know when I got lucky.
And I still consider it getting lucky. Kristin and I have been together going on 6 years, married for 4 as of two days ago. And still I consider myself blessed every single time we make love. Every. Single. Time.
Before I met Kristin, I had sex maybe once a year. I was shy. I was allergic to meeting new people. I was so tightly wrapped in my defenses that I was impervious to most come ons. Oh, I talk a big game, but I never expect the people talking back to actually mean what they say. Because I never do. I only flirt outrageously when there’s no chance of follow-through. When there’s a chance someone could actually take me up on my words, I freeze. Become otherworldly and untouchable or turn the person into a “good friend”. Those few people who could a) see through the alternating icy-prudish and asexual friend-type emotional wrappings and the body-hiding clothes and b) were bold enough to hit on me in a direct-enough way to get my attention and make me realize they were serious then had to negotiate a slew of other (unconscious) ingenious sexual aversion techniques I had developed over the years. I have a sharp tongue when it comes to deflating sexual expectations. It was frustrating for all parties involved. They would be wondering why I was blowing hot and cold and sometimes just plain weird all the damn time. And I would be silently cheering them on. Wishing I could just say, “Hey. I want you. I do. But I’m terrified. And some of these defenses are so old I don’t know when they were built, let alone how to disarm them. But push through, push through. I’ll meet you here on the other side.” And then, of course, when they would make it through, breach my defenses, after it was over (and I’m talking about the single sexual encounter, not the relationship) I would set about setting up my defenses again – reinforcing the breach so that that particular route could never be used again.
When I met Kristin, I had been working for a couple of years to become a more sexually accessible person. But still, she has had her share of befuddlement and walls thrown up before her. From my shutting off in the middle and crying silently in bed refusing to talk to her, to my saying something guaranteed to turn her off right as we’re getting into the mood. Yes, she has been forced to make a List of Words Trista is Forbidden To Say While In Amour. And yes, sometimes they still pop out from me. It’s almost like I’ve got turrettes. It’s not like I WANT to say those words. It’s not like those words are an inherent part of what turns me on. They’re like stealth missiles that some over-touchy soldier with a trigger finger lobs at a perceived enemy without permission from general.
Over the years Kristin has become amazingly good at letting such things roll off her. I mean, it’s pretty hard to keep a mood going when you whisper enticingly to your lover about how wet she is and she replies that yes, her mucus membranes are quite enflamed and overactive tonight, sorry about that, must be that cold virus going around… And yet somehow, most of the time she manages to do it.
So, yes, I still consider it getting lucky. When Kristin and I have sex, besides the physical pleasure I feel, there’s an overwhelming sense of good fortune and amazement that somehow, despite everything I have thrown at her, we have managed to meet each other in that physical place. That she doesn’t run from me. That I don’t run from her. It is a miracle for me, each and every time. I am so lucky to have such a beautiful, sexy, patient, passionate woman love me. I am so blessed to have such a woman to love.
And that’s what I have to say about sex today.