I think I’ve got it: the cast-iron, rock-solid argument for why you should tell me at least some of what you wank about. Not ‘you’ as in ‘everyone’, ‘you’ as in ‘people I am fucking/wooing/thirsting after.’ I know it is kind of terrifying to let someone deep into your horny, fuckdrunk brain, but this is why you should take your courage in both hands and tell me what you wank about anyway.
If it’s a dealbreaker, I’d rather know now
If you have a specific kink or desire, either that thing is fundamentally a part of your sexuality or it’s not. A ‘must-have’ or ‘take it or leave it’. Some of my desires – the love of being used, being fucked really brutally, being desired to the point where someone desperately wants me to put their dick in my mouth – are core parts of who I am. And if we’re going to be good at sex together, I need you to enjoy at least a bit of that stuff. Not all of it, but a bit. I’ve had great fun with dudes who aren’t into penetrative sex but love me sucking their dick, for instance, but I probably couldn’t enjoy fucking someone who was only into worshipping my cunt.
So if you have kinks that you reckon are ‘must-haves’, you might as well tell me what they are. I might realise, when you tell me, that they’re not compatible with mine – or vice versa, because unless you literally have me gagged then I’ll be telling you my own kinks too. If that’s the case, it’s a shame but it’s probably better that we know that sooner rather than later, right? Not get all wrapped up in each other’s personalities while having inoffensive middle-of-the-road sex that we believe to be the ‘safe’ option, while setting ourselves up for disappointment further down the line.
You might as well tell me what you want because if it’s vital for you sexually, the sooner you tell me the sooner we can work out if we’ll work together.
If it’s not a dealbreaker, it might still be useful info
There are plenty of kinks that I enjoy but which aren’t vital to my sex life. Fancy bondage, certain kinds of role play, types of impact play, outdoor fucking… loads. They’re things I enjoy, that are sufficient but not necessary for me having a sexy time. If you’ve got wank fantasies like this, there’s no absolute need to tell me what they are, but if you do tell me then perhaps we can find some common ground between what you like and what I like.
Let’s say you really love splosh (AKA ‘WAM’ – wet and messy. Using mucky substances to get someone all squishy and messy and wet). I don’t personally get off on that kink, but I do find it deeply fascinating and fun. I don’t have a paddling pool and a fifty-gallon barrel of custard lying around, but I do have a special fluidproof sheet and some lovely bath goo which I can smother myself in then give you a nuru massage. And even if that didn’t float my boat, I’d be delighted to chat to you about the exact detail of why you love splosh, because telling each other sexy fantasies while your dick is inside me is one of my favourite things to do.
Boundaries are also important, obvs
Personally, I am comfortable having quite involved conversations about kink with someone on even a very first date, if they’re receptive to that. I’ve dated guys who know about this blog, so technically I’m comfortable sharing that stuff before we’ve even met in person.
Not everyone’s the same, though. I’m aiming for this post to give a helpful nudge to people who might be nervous about these conversations, giving them the confidence to delve into chats they might have been too shy to have otherwise. But as with all advice, it must be wrapped in caveats, lest arseholes decide they’re a reason to batter someone into doing something they aren’t quite ready for. The caveat here is that everyone works at different speeds. You might be ready to ask someone their fantasies when you’re three dates in and eager to get going. They might need a few more weeks before they crack out the really filthy stuff. And some fantasies might be ones they only enjoy in private, that they’ll never want to tell you even if you shag till you’re ninety-six.
So this little sidebar is in there for people like me, who’ll bounce up and down eagerly asking ‘where do you wanna put your dick?’ and need to be reined in a little, lest we scare off the shy people. If you’re the kind of person for whom fucking is important, you’ll probably want answers to some of these questions quite soon. But if it’s important, it’s also worth waiting for, so do what I am constantly reminding myself to do: make it clear you’re open and receptive to hearing things when someone’s ready, and try not to pile on too much horny pressure.
Final point, to those of you who want to take the plunge and have discussions about your desires, is that telling your lover can give you a good insight into whether they are right for you.
My reaction to what you wank about will tell you a lot
The two biggest concerns when telling someone what you wank about are usually:
- They won’t be into it
- They might react badly
I’ve covered off 1 above, but it’s worth spending some more time on 2. I get that telling someone the innermost workings of the sexiest parts of your brain is a deeply intimate thing. I also get that my own attitude towards this sits at the more extreme end of the ‘open and honest’ scale. I don’t just tell my partners the hot things I think about, I tell the entire internet, so I have to moderate my desire to hear your fantasies with an understanding that most people don’t have the same experience as I do in articulating them. Nor can most people guarantee they’ll be met with a listening, non-kink-shaming ear.
The fear of being told you’re wrong, or gross, or weird is powerful. And we’re immersed in a society which frequently tells us that our kinks and desires are things we should be ashamed of.
But when you’re fucking someone, that person should not make you feel ashamed. Not of the way your body looks, or the faces you make when you come, or your dirty talk, or anything else that makes you who you are. There are legitimate reasons to feel shame about stuff – if you’re doing things that are cruel or harmful, for instance – but your consensual kinks shouldn’t fall into that category.
So if telling me what you wank about seems frightening, consider that it’s not an exam you have to pass or fail, it’s an excellent test for you to put to me. How do I react when you tell me? Do I listen and get involved, asking questions and making an effort to understand why it is you like that? Do I say ‘I’m sorry, I’m not into that’ in a way that’s polite and kind? Do I sneer or laugh or call you a pervert? These things, just like your kinks, are really important. Because if your kink is important to you, it should be important enough to me for me to treat it with respect and kindness – even if it isn’t a kink I share.
Talking about your wank fantasies can be a really nervewracking thing, but if you take the plunge and do it you’re doing us both a favour. After all, sex is a co-op sport, so the more we know about each other’s desires, the better we’ll be as a team.
If you want to start having these conversations but you’re not sure exactly how to start them, I wrote a post a while ago about sexual communication that you might find helpful. It should give you a few pointers to start understanding how to articulate your fantasies – and explain why you find things sexy as well as just what you enjoy.
15 Comments
I love this post so much – and fuck, the ILLUSTRATION. (I’ll take the four-day withheld orgasm with daily provocative texts and a kiss piss bliss cocktail, please – and can I get a side of mixed seasonal degradation with that as well?) As someone to whom sexual compatibility is very important, I really related to this part: “I have to moderate my desire to hear your fantasies with an understanding that most people don’t have the same experience as I do in articulating them.” Apparently not everyone is comfortable talking about butt plugs over coffee? (That’s a joke – I understand that people aren’t always comfortable with that and their boundaries are important.) Also fuck yes to sex being a co-op sport – both because yes, we should be working as a team, but also because sex is supposed to be FUN and, while this maybe isn’t a universal desire, I definitely want playfulness in my sex.
Thia was brilliant! It would just be SO good, in all sorts of ways, if people were more open and honest, about everything! Obviously, that’s assuming that the openness and honesty will come with tact and respect. But sometimes it seems to me that 99% of all human messes, are caused or much-exacerbated by a lack of honesty (sometimes through deceit, but more often through bashfulness) by someone or someones.
Ah yeah it’s the old ‘soap opera’ conundrum – where someone in a soap says ‘there’s something I need to tell you’ then ‘oh no don’t worry, it’s not important.’ This kind of thing rarely actually happens in real life, but it is way too common for people to avoid saying things because they’re worried about the reaction, when actually saying the things (and getting SOME kind of reaction) could be really helpful and informative for them!
I’ve only met a few people, less than 5, in all the many people i’ve shared myself sexually with, who not only wanted to hear about the depth and breadth and volume of my kink, but who didn’t react badly / judgmentally / negatively to some portion of it. And the worst part of when it doesn’t come off is that *they* tend to fixate on the few parts where we are not compatible than the ones where we are. I’ve never met even the one person who shares all of my kinks, and I’m not trying to.
To the two people in my history who were able to completely acknowledge the existence of all what flips my switch without being negative about it (even though it wasn’t their stuff), I am eternally grateful to be seen in toto. It’s rare and precious and sweeter than honey.
I actually have something to contribute to this, which makes a good change! I’ve only had one partner, and it was a long relationship (nearly 9 years) with more than a few sexual issues. It being a first relationship for both of us, we both had certain expectations and attitudes that were pretty naïve, and while innocent they certainly didn’t help. You just assume that you’ll both be sexually compatible, and that something like sex is just one bit of a relationship and that it shouldn’t affect other parts of how the two of you are with oneanother, but that’s not the case.
I have a bunch of insecurities that I don’t really want to air, suffice to say that some of them overlap with the context of this blogpost, and a libido that I imagine I’d feel proud of were it not for what follows. My shortcomings in other sexual areas lead me to think that if I was unable to accomplish what seemed to be an easy enough feat, then why should I go for gold and say “Hey, this is actually what I’m really in to. I know it’s kinda weird, but I think it’s really hot”. And what I told myself (and I probably will with some future partner/s) was that ultimately I wasn’t really worthy of getting that itch scratched. So I put everything I had into whatever my partner wanted. Unfortunately (and again, not to go into her dirty laundry so-to-speak), she had confidence issues and a bad reaction to the pill that she needed to take for medical reasons. So whenever her body (if not her mind, not a mindreader unfortunately) let her body feel like she wanted to fuck, I put myself under huge amounts of pressure. This was a golden opportunity, I had to do whatever was…safe? I didn’t want to stray into anything that might scare her off, or dampen this fragile moment. And more or less every sexual encounter, I did this to myself.
I’m sure she didn’t want me to be doing this, and I never communicated it because it’d make her feel awful. but that I was doing it of my own volition was awful too, but I told myself it was necessary.
Tl;dr: Opening up sexually is a lovely notion, but when you tie yourself in nots they’re very hard to escape from.
I’m sorry to hear this was so hard for you, but if it makes you feel any better you’re right – it is really hard to escape from this stuff, especially once you’re already wrapped up in it. I think one of the deeply troubling things about the way our society presents straight sex is that it puts a lot of performance pressure on a guy, and simultaneously tells him he should think himself lucky that he’s getting any sex at all. When sex is presented in such a transactional way, I totally get how it can be difficult to have conversations about the kind of sex you want, and instead feel like the safest option is just to ‘perform well’ in ways that are safe and unlikely to rock the boat. It really sucks, and I’m sorry you and your ex had so many layers of stress to try and shag through – it doesn’t sound easy at all. The fact that you recognise this is really good though, and that you’re able to understand a bit about where that pressure came from and how you might go about avoiding it in the future – that in itself is no small thing!
As a adult I have never met any of my previous dates or partners so it was quite easy to be open and honest and if you didn’t agree no harm done on to the next. But we often pick up habits when we’re younger and the limited dating I did as a teenager was with people that I saw regularly and couldn’t get away from it we did not click or fell out.
Part of why I have not unexpectedly met any of the people I didn’t click with is that I live I a metropolitan area and dated people I didn’t other wise know (yay Internet) but a lot of the peopleI know have had relationships with Co workers etc.
These higher risk relationships must be much harder to share your kinks and specialisms.
I hope heartedly agree with the message of this post but it can be tricky..
Many thanks for yet another great post
That’s a really good point, thanks Will. As someone who has mostly lived in cities it’s never been hugely difficult for me to avoid an ex, but yeah I see what you mean about the higher risk. Thanks, I appreciate the input – it’s handy to be reminded of areas I’m not thinking about!
Gave you a boatload of claps,
I love your site, and I WISH that more women had your candour and attitude towards sex. As a hetero guy born in the 70s I thought you might be interested in some honest, anonymous perspective from my point of view.
What you need to realise is that fundamentally, I’ve been taught to be ashamed of my sexuality. The majority of messaging that I received growing up was that ‘hitting on girls’ is an obnoxious, aggressive, entitled animal instinct that men need to learn to subdue. Growing up with a sister and attending a mixed school I never saw girls as anything ‘less’ than boys – if anything they seemed generally better. They were obviously somehow ‘special’, and got special protections and special treatment in disputes. They were sugar and spice and all things nice, we were slugs and snails and puppydog tails.
So it didn’t surprise me that none of them ever asked us out. Why would they? They were already too busy going out with the most obnoxious members of my sex. The boys that didn’t care about harrassing or disgusting them. The ones that would get them drunk at parties and take advantage of them. That would lie. Promise everlasting love then fuck their best friend. I was respectful, sought signs that my affections were reciprocated, and for that patience I was certainly NOT rewarded!
So I’ve had to navigate my own path through relationships with women in the same way that I had to do it with men. In the face of bullying, for example, do I take the ‘masculine’ approach and punch back, or the ‘feminine’ approach and report it to authorities? My mother and my father had totally different views on this, that were left to me to try and reconcile. Looking to my peers or popular culture didn’t help either, there are so few ‘progressive’ male role models. We basically have to pick a team. Thug or Pansie (I’m a pansie that looks like a thug).
Over the years I’ve done OK. My bedpost notches would more or less equal my age I suppose. Most of them lovely intelligent interesting women. But I have NEVER found a partner that was into sex the way I am. And my ‘kinks’ and wank bank are pretty vanilla – I like cute feet and small breasts, I love oral, I love having my come swallowed or directed somewhere, having my foreskin appreciated. I love a partner who is a bit experimental, confident, even dominant in a kind sort of way. But generally I’ve found women fall into two camps – those that are really sex-positive are usually into the whole dominant male schtick, and those that like less dominant men often have a complicated relationship with their sexual pleasure.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that getting to the point of sexual intimacy with a woman is hard and rare enough, that risking the relationship by disclosing intimate thoughts – that I’ve been taught are wrong anyway – seems not only crazy, but actually greedy. Most women are NOT as comfortable as you with their sexuality, but I think the world would be a much better place (especially for them) if they were. I think men would have to make fewer guesses (and fewer dick moves) if their dance partners weren’t so damn passive!
TL, DR: If you ask me what I wank about, I’ll tell you. But most women don’t ask.
Hmmmm… OK so thanks for your input. I agree that the messages you were given as you were growing up are harmful, of course. I do want to push back quite a bit on your comments though.
You tell me I ‘need to realise’ that you’ve been taught to be ashamed of your sexuality but this is something I already know, and it’s something that is true for many many people – not just men. The way society has taught all of us to view sex is extremely fucked, and toxic, and has led to a huge number of problems. Everything from seeing men and women as opposites, through the binary system that categorises us all as ‘men’ and ‘women’ anyway, to the day-to-day ways in which we’re shamed for being sexual.
In your comment, you seem to recognise some of the ways in which these structures have harmed *you* but you seem unaware of:
1. where these structures have harmed/impacted people who aren’t men and
2. the ways in which you reinforce those exact same structures.
Let’s do 1 first. When talking about girls at school you say “Growing up with a sister and attending a mixed school I never saw girls as anything ‘less’ than boys – if anything they seemed generally better. They were obviously somehow ‘special’, and got special protections and special treatment in disputes.” Can you think perhaps of some ways in which women were in fact harmed by society at that time? I totally can. Abortion had only very recently been legalised (end of the sixties), likewise contraception, and neither of these things were especially easy for women in the 70s to acquire. There was deep shame attached to pregnancy, and sexual activity, and I can guarantee if I had grown up around that time I would not be as open about sex as I am today – the environment would have been too hostile.
Even when I was growing up (in the 90s), women were not expected to be sexual, and were shamed/mocked for displaying the kind of eagerness about sex that I write about. In fact, one of the reasons I started this blog is because those attitudes (that women simply *don’t* enjoy sex like men do) were still far too prevalent even in 2011, and it’s frustrating and unequal and it causes harm. In your comment, you praise me for being able to talk about this stuff, but you don’t seem to apply any compassion to the women who were raised in a far more hostile environment when it comes to talking about sex. It’s curious to me that you can identify the ways in which society made *you* feel shame for your sexuality, but don’t seem to have examined what that society will have done for the women who grew up alongside you.
2. In your comment, you say that you believe women fall into two camps as regards to sex, and honestly that’s just… wrong? There is a whole world out there of variety and interest – women who like all manner of different things (many of whom appear in guest blogs/guest audio here on the site). It seems to me like you’re ignoring the examples of women who don’t fit with your preconceived ideas, and in doing that you reinforce the notion that women don’t really like sex.
As someone who has had more than her fair share of conversations like this in the past, I wrote a piece about it a long time ago: https://www.girlonthenet.com/blog/where-are-the-pervy-women/
So in your comment you’re on one hand praising me for talking about sex because it’s refreshing and different, but on the other condemning women who do not/cannot do the same thing. The reason what I do is refreshing and different to some people (especially people who grew up in more sex-shaming times than I did) is precisely *because* it was hard for women who came before me to do the same. I did not simply spring up by magic – I am a product of a society that has opened up a little about sex, and that – coupled with my keenness to explore my body/kinks/desires – has made for the perfect environment in which I can grow and do this thing I do. But you’ll note that I’m also anonymous: doing what I do is still not accepted/welcome enough that it doesn’t come with dangers (the danger of being ‘outed’ and potentially harmed by people who either hate what I do or love it a little *too* much, the danger of never being able to get a ‘real’ job again if I need one, etc). These days, sex comes with less stigma attached, but women are still shamed for being sexual. And where we are openly sexual, we are often met with comments that tell us we’re weird or special or outside the norm, which in itself is very ‘othering.’
In your comment, even, you reinforce the idea that being ‘passive’ is a women’s trait, whereas being active/aggressive is something men do. Why is that? Why do you believe that? Do you understand how saying ‘women are really passive, they should be more like men’ helps to reinforce the attitudes that are causing harm in the first place? You think the world would be better if women could embrace their sexual desires more, yet at the same time you say things that would make any listening women immediately recognise how difficult that would be.
So…
“Most women are NOT as comfortable as you with their sexuality, but I think the world would be a much better place (especially for them) if they were. I think men would have to make fewer guesses (and fewer dick moves) if their dance partners weren’t so damn passive!”
This right here is where I am struggling. I am trying to create a space where people (not just women, but others too) can share consenting sexual desires without shame, and this post in particular deliberately includes discussion about the implications of someone shaming someone for their sexual desires. Because I know the world is not yet as open to sex as I’d like it to be, and I’d like to do my bit to change/shape it. But by telling women they are passive, without acknowledging the ways in which society has told us we *should* be, that that’s the ‘correct’ way to conduct ourselves, you are doing exactly what you’re angry at society doing to *you* – i.e. reinforcing harmful notions that are then meant to shape behaviour. Maybe women are more passive – there are certainly plenty of societal messages that tell us to be like that (I am often surprised at the way men react if I ask them ‘fancy a shag?’ – they do not expect it and it is rarely welcomed in the same way as subtle gestures and fluttering eyelashes might be). But – as with you unlearning society’s toxic message that your sexuality is shameful – so it’ll take time for women to unlearn the harmful messages society has fed us. And slamming women who can’t immediately flick that switch and go from ‘good girl who does what society wants’ to ‘filthy slag like GOTN who has grown up in a more sex-positive environment’ is harmful too.
Usually, if the member is inside, then it is impossible to say a lot. At most some incoherent groans and sighs. Therefore, if you want to know the curves of each other, then it is better to talk about it in advance, before you put your penis somewhere. And by the way, this conversation about fantasies can be a prelude to further penetrative sex.
Thanks for your thoughtful response. I’ll start by saying that you are probably right in many of your points, you have put in time and effort to considering and communicating your views that I have not, so in many ways I’m bringing a knife to a gunfight here and of course it’s right that you call me out on my clumsier assertions. But I’m happy to try again.
If I appear insensitive to the plight of women it’s poor communication on my part. I’m acutely aware of it. Not only have I witnessed it, but I’ve listened to several excruciating stories told to me by women I care deeply about, and the media and popular culture isn’t exactly silent on the subject these days either. That women are ‘slut shamed’ while men are not (although I could care less if someone called me a slut) is so obvious to anyone not living under a rock on another planet that I didn’t really feel the need to communicate it in my post. I was trying to add an additional angle, not invalidate well-established ones.
I take it as given that women are horribly disadvantaged on many levels in life, but especially when it comes to sexual relationships. I also take it as a given that men, in general, have a lot to answer for and a lot of work to do. The point I was trying to make is that women are not entirely powerless in this process, there are things they can do too to reclaim some agency. Saying that men/society are the reason women are not doing those things is kinda irrelevant, they remain things that can be done, and my point was certainly not to blame women for not doing them.
Traditionally and stereotypically, men took the active role (pursuader) and women took the passive role (persuadee). I believe that this basic dynamic still dominates today, in dating apps and workplaces and school playgrounds all over the world. It shouldn’t but it does. We all know that (not enough) work is being done to empower girls to say no, and to teach boys to hear it. But how much work is being done to empower girls to say yes, or even better, to initiate the contact? I would suggest that it would be just as profound for both sides to know what ‘enthusiastic consent’ actually looks like. If we don’t teach girls to be enthusiastic, nobody will ever see it. And at the risk of stating the obvious, it isn’t men who need to teach girls how to be enthusiastic – it’s their mothers and sisters.
This isn’t a competition here, to see which ‘side’ has the toughest deal and which ‘side’ is to blame for it. But to suggest that women cannot reclaim agency because men/society are making it hard for them, is to reassert that women have no power unless men give it to them. See the problem?!
You say you are surprised at men’s reaction to the question “fancy a shag?”. Really? Who are you asking? Do you think it’s an appropriate question to ask a stranger or a new acquaintance?! Because I don’t. Outside of an orgy or an existing relationship of some sort it’s pretty obnoxious and I’d be disgusted if I heard any of my friends asking that of a girl they’d just met. A guy speaking that way in a bar would likely find themselves on the wrong end of a bouncer. On the other hand I’ve definitely had girlfriends ask me if I fancy a shag, and it’s great. They’ll generally get a more positive response to the question than I will if I ask it of them, that’s for sure – which would seem to support my point?
You said:
“But how much work is being done to empower girls to say yes, or even better, to initiate the contact?”
Then…
“ You say you are surprised at men’s reaction to the question “fancy a shag?”. Really? Who are you asking? Do you think it’s an appropriate question to ask a stranger or a new acquaintance?! Because I don’t. Outside of an orgy or an existing relationship of some sort it’s pretty obnoxious”
Do… do you see any kind of a problem here?
To Neil
All your florid long confused speech says only one thing: you want women to be active. Namely, they themselves approached you and declared their desire to have sex with you. Thus, you want to relieve yourself of responsibility for the emergence of relationships and, of course, reduce the cost of creating, developing and maintaining them.