Primary and Secondary Attraction

In an attempt to explain the asexual experience, quite a few words and terms have been coined.  I've only given a cursory look over many of them- just enough to see that they didn't deeply resonate with me.  As several of those terms have been thrown around by others, I've become increasingly familiar with them, and have given them some more thought.

Primary and secondary attraction are a couple of those terms.  Primary attraction, as I understand it, is sexual attraction that's rooted in that which is immediately apparent about a person- the way they carry themselves, their smell, the clever things they say, all that kind of stuff.  Secondary attraction- again, as I understand it- is attraction that develops over time, and is rooted in a relationship.

These terms are usually used to help explain demisexuality.  Demisexual folks only develop secondary attraction.

So as these terms have been bouncing around in my mind as of late, I realized that I'm kind of... the opposite.. of demisexual.

Primary attraction isn't actually that rare for me to come by.  Lots of people can seem at least moderately shiny to me upon first meeting.  Where things fall apart for me is when that novel shininess fades away, and I'm left without any secondary attraction to keep that interest going.

The way that this has manifested in my life has been that my sexual interest in people- people who I really, really love!- consistently drops off within a couple of months.  So far as I've found, there's no nice way for that to happen.  There aren't cute greeting cards that say, "Yeah, I mean, you smelled really nice!  But you're just not sexually interesting to me any more.  I still care about you though!  Let's still hold hands!"

So I'm pretty well left with two options.

I can have a series of sexual relationships that we both know are going to last a couple of weeks, or if we're lucky, a couple of months.  Adding sexual partners is a pretty big emotional investment for me, so on the whole, that's not going to be a very fun option.  I can get the occasional kick by making out with folks who, for any number of reasons, aren't on the table as long-term partners, but that's about as far as I'm inclined to go down that road.

Or I can opt to move really slowly into new sexual relationships, until I have a solid feeling that I'm experiencing more than just primary attraction.  That also gives me a chance to decide if I feel good about making that emotional investment in them.  If I'm still feeling it after the shiny-newness has worn off, game on!

I'm not quite sure what it is that keeps things sustainable.  This is where the primary/secondary attraction model seems to break down for me.  When I have a sustainable sexual attraction to somebody, I don't think that the root of that attraction is the non-sexual parts of the relationship.  I care about my sexual partners, and enjoy spending time with them, but it's not like they're The One(s), by any means.

It's an imperfect model in my case, but an interesting one nonetheless.  It's certainly given me a different lens to look through.

Flipping Sexual Switches

Tromping around in the world of erotic asexuality has given me a fascinating window into the world of sexual switches- both mine and others'.  Though erotic and sexual energies are pretty closely linked for most folks, interactions with me often lead to people learning more about where those aren't inherently linked for them.  It's in those places where we often find out shared playground.

Those activities which are inherently sexual for somebody can be widely varied, and are not necessarily what one would expect.  It might be cuddling in a certain way.  It might be playing with a certain spot on one's body.  For me, kissing is one of those unlikely sexual switches.

I can kiss and lick and bite somebody's body in a wide range of non-sexual situations, but for whatever reason, kissing on the lips is extremely sexual for me.  Aside from quick hello-goodbye pecks, my attempts to kiss or make out with folks to whom I wasn't sexually attracted have always been pretty uncomfortable and unintuitive for me.

I had it pointed out to be before I was even aware of it.  A couple of years ago, I had a brief foray with a kink-friendly guy.  We knew it we didn't fit into one another's lives in any sort of a long-term way, but we both had about six weeks in Colorado before we went off on our respective adventures.  With this context, we had a fun couple of weeks hooking up.  As we talked about our sexual experiences, both with each other and in the past, he commented once how he was having to relearn much about how to interact with somebody in order to hit my buttons and sweet spots.  The user guide to how to interact with me was apparently wildly different than that of any other women he'd been involved with.  One thing that he specifically cited was how much less interested I was in kissing than anybody he'd known.

Until that point, it wasn't something I'd ever noticed.  Once it was pointed out though, I realized how true it was.  In the years since, it's become even more obvious how much kissing is a sexual activity for me.  I love a deep kiss with somebody that I'm sexually into.  Still, in the same way that sex happens for me in but a very limited set of contexts, kissing is but an occasional endeavor for me.  

In Defense of Exhibitionism

Exhibitionism seems to have gotten a bad rap in my local kink scene.  It's a tirade that just keeps popping up.  The arguments against exhibitionism seem to go something like, "People that pay attention to showy technique, or care if people are watching, are totally missing out on intimacy and connecting with their partner in a meaningful way.  They are doing it wrong!  I look at them with a mix of disdain and pity."

As an exhibitionist, I would like to dissect some of what's packed in there.

Showy technique.  Yup.  I dig it.  As a bottom, I love feeling that I am in exceptionally capable hands.  And as a top, I love being able to work my partner over smoothly, efficiently, competently.  Turns out, doing something well can often look good.  And guys, that's okay.  It can actually make play that much hotter.  I've had somebody comment to me, after I tied her for the first time, how hot it was for her that I was able to solidly tie her up without putting laborious thought into the mechanics and technical details.  As a result, I'll bet it was kinda showy, too.  'Cause competence is sexy.

Caring if people are watching.  I'll be honest, the wee! chemicals are a big part of why I like BDSM.  I'm pretty sure that's why a fair number of us are here.  Getting my hurty on gives me those wee! chemicals, but so do many types of activities in front of a crowd.  It's relatively rare that I want to engage with bystanders, but glancing up mid-scene to see a sea of faces?  Yup, there's that adrenaline rush.  I've also had more than a few scenes where somebody commented on the number of people watching, who I had no idea were there because I was too focused on playing.  But hey, even if I don't notice people watching me play as it's happening, I still feel good knowing that people were watching.  I like to think that what I'm doing is interesting and engaging enough that people are inspired to watch it unfold.  I guess I'm just an attention whore like that.

Connecting with my partner.  I like connection.  Going on a suspension bender earlier this spring, where I tied pretty much everybody that asked, served as quite the reminder that I really am much happier playing with people who I have that kind of connection with.  Wooing or being wooed by technical abilities helps me connect with my partner.  Sharing the rush of adrenaline that comes from performing helps me connect with my partner.  I connect with my partners in a multitude of ways, the specifics of which may or may not be obvious.  But I do hear through the grapevine that said connection tends to be pretty obvious.

And you know what?  Connection is hot.  Watching other peoples' connections is hot.  For me, as a voyeur, that's going to be what determines whether I really camp out in front of a scene to watch it start to finish.  That's where the magic is.  I might pause in front of a showy scene for a bit, but unless it's showy and the players are going exciting places together, it's not going to hold my attention for long.

So please, don't look at me with disdain and pity.  Don't assume that having an audience trumps my connection with my partner.  Don't assume that the ways in which you connect with your partner are the only ways in which two people can meet in playspace.  Are you uninspired by my dynamic ropework, or loud moaning?  That's pretty okay by me.  I hope you'll wander on to something that you are more inspired by, rather than sniping from the sidelines of the dungeon or Fetlife.  You focus on what gets you off, and I'll focus on what gets me off.  Deal?  Deal.