Dear T,
I am tired of being asked if I’m sure.
Are you sure you should be where you are, are you sure you want to walk down that street, are you sure you want to wear that skirt, are you sure, are you, you?
The nice ones ask you if you’re sure, the bad ones don’t care if you’re sure. I wanted someone who knew I was sure.
X asked me if I was sure the first time his mouth ventured beneath my flannel pajamas, furrowing beneath a loose button to move onto the beginning of the swell of my breasts. It was the first time anyone had touched my body like that. I thought I would explode.
He began, and then heavy with guilt, he stopped abruptly, turned his back to me without a word and tried to go back to sleep.
I lay with my back on the bed, chest still heaving, staring at his back, wondering idly which one of us was more insane.
I cosied up my breasts onto his back finally, uncertainly, sighing. I felt strange, like I was being forced to play Eve, searching out the arousal he was trying to repress. I moved my hand across his chest, holding him to me. He turned back round finally and began to kiss again on my neck, and then between my breasts. My hands moved to unbutton my top. That is when he asked me if I was sure.
I felt the urge to slap him for asking, for buying into the hysteria. You would have to know how I grew up to fully understand the anger I felt.
But I felt sorry for his struggle. And I knew he meant well.
All I said was yes, yes, yes.
3 comments:
So there's this guy you're literally sleeping with, his lips just brousing idly...he gets worried and feigns sleep. But you don't let him.
Doesn't sound like anybody I can imagine, lucking into Learn's bed, then somehow consumed with questioning.
This story, like Churchill's pudding, needs a THEME!
Just teasing!! Just wondering...
Hugs, J
Justine,
What is this Churchill's pudding of which you speak? Must go look it up.
I think the theme is pretty common. Woman as the one who is giving in to ruinous shameful sex in the face of pressure from the hapless man who is slave to his desires. I imagine especially for the first-timer boy that it would be difficult not to ask that question, if this is what the girl truly wants, or if it is an imposition of his own will. Even in the face of evidence to the opposite. Add to the picture that this will is supposed to be the sin of all sins and you can envision the mess. Because that question also asks 'Are you sure you're not going to feel guilty?'
Of course, I'm guessing this kind of initial struggle is also present in homosexual sex, since I am sure one person can always feel they are more blatantly making the 'attack' in that first moment. I'm not sure if or how social gender constructs of masculinity-feminity come in to play in that case.
I think I had hoped my body's response was consent enough but I can see how there are thin lines in these matters. Nor am I saying that pressure does not exist. It is healthier perhaps for both parties to err on the 'safe' side when it comes to consent. And asking is the best way to learn.
Ok I'm not so much multi-tasking right now as I'm um procrastinating. :)
Thanks for stopping by so faithfully *grin*
Love,
Learn
Oh and it's very sweet of you to imply noone could turn me down. You flatter me. :)
Hugs and kisses,
Learn
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