Over the past year, I have both cut out a considerable amount of my social involvement with my local kink community and acquired an in-state sex partner (we'll call him ISSP). This has left me with less fodder for writing here, unless I were to turn my asexuality blog into a sex blog. Which, for numerous reasons, I don't want to do. An elaboration on that might be a post for another day, but not today.
Today I'm going to write about rivers of snot.
ISSP and I were talking the other day, and wandered onto the topic of crying. Specifically, bawling like a three year old, rivers of snot-style crying. He was using this as a description of unsexy crying. I maintained that more context was required to determine whether it was sexy or unsexy crying. He looked befuddled.
Don't get me wrong. Uncontrollable sobbing, in and of itself, is not particularly sexy. It's messy, it's graceless, it's profoundly awkward*. No argument there.
So what's hot about it? The rawness. The vulnerability. I really dig emotional intensity. For me, I think that the emotions themselves end up being secondary to the intensity. Delving into that sort of intensity in a reasonably controlled and safe setting is just fantastic.
To get that messy and graceless is to let some pretty substantial walls come down. Forcing those walls to come down in an erotic context is absolutely hot- at least for me.
Even if it does involve rivers of snot.
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*Know what else tends to be messy, graceless, and profoundly awkward? Fucking. Seriously.
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