Bites, Scratches, Bruises and Welts: Thoughts On #SexMarks

I confess, I like sexmarks. I like making them and I like carrying them. I like to feel a girl scratch the skin from my back in the throes of orgasm. I like to feel her teeth sinking into the skin of my chest, my shoulder. I like to bite beautiful skin. I like to hold a girl so firmly she gets a bruise from the impression on my fingers, my hand. And if you’re a regular reader, I think you’ll know I like the pink and red skin on a girl’s bottom after I’ve spanked her.

Why don’t I allow this, then? Easy: I’m not in an exclusive relationship. I do not want to see the marks another man left on a girl’s body, and I don’t want a girl to see the marks another girl left on mine. I think it’s disrespectful to the girl I’m with if she has to see what another girl did. When I’m with a girl, she should know she’s the only person that matters. She should feel that she’s my top priority, not just for the time she’s there, but at all times. That’s how I want to feel, too: that I’m that girl’s top priority. If I don’t feel that way, I’m not likely to ask to see a girl again.

Of course I do have a girl who is my top priority, that’s only natural. I didn’t mean for it to be so, but I like her more than I meant to like her. But if I spend time with another girl, she shouldn’t feel any less important, because at the time I’m with her she isn’t.

Of course I’ve broken this rule. That’s what rules are for, after all. But only once outside an exclusive relationship. Giving in to the urgency, the passion, the raw desire The bite, the scratch. The bruise that develops over the next few days that you can poke and feel her teeth all over again. The sorenesses you can soothe away with well placed kisses and licks and strokes. Tending for her, for the marks I left on her… The trust that comes from knowing how hard you can be, and that she will be hard enough.

Instead I settle for lightly raking nails over the skin, or little nips.

Perhaps I should reconsider, but… disrespectful.


Thoughts On Love

All you need is love.” – The Beatles

Well, it’s Valentine’s Day, my twitter is open, so what better time for an out of character post?

Love. The Beatles got it right, but only told a part of the story. All you need is love, yes, but you need the right love for you. At different times in you life you need different types of love.

Romantic Love
The thing we all think of and Hollywood trains us to think of as Love. Holding hands with someone, wondering if any other two people have ever felt this way before. Knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that this person, this wonderful person who – against the odds – you’ve crossed paths with is The One. That since meeting them the world will never be the same again. Every day for the rest of your life the important thing about what you do is that you’ll be with them, or the most important thing about what you’re doing is that they’re not there to share it.

If you haven’t felt that love, I guarantee that one day you will. And it’ll knock your socks off.

Selfless Love
The love that means you’re driven to want the best for the object of your affection, even if that isn’t you. Of course, if you think it isn’t you, you’re lacking in Self-Love. Why wouldn’t you be the best thing for them if you love them so much, so selflessly?

Erotic Love
The love of two (or more) people, both in tune with their bodies, their needs, and those needs meet, and are satisfied by the other. Deeply rewarding, and adventurous, the ability to explore and experiment, the desire for each other, all combine. It’s fireworks; exciting, inspiring, adrenalin fuelled. While it lasts, but this is the fire that dies in the corner of the bedroom after a couple of years and leaves couples empty and cold.

Which leads me to Bad Love. Because…

Love Hurts” – Freddie Mercury

Unrequited Love
No one needs this, but we all feel it sometime.

Maybe you’ve just been dumped and discovered that the person you’ve poured your heart and soul into, the person you’ve turned your life upside down for, simply doesn’t feel the same.

Maybe you love someone from a distance watching them make one bad choice of unsuitable partner after another and tear your heart out, but daren’t risk telling them the truth about how you feel, in case you lose what little you have with them.

Self-Destructive Love
Overlapping with Unrequited Love, there are some loves that are so consuming you can’t walk away, but you know they’re destroying you, eating away at your self worth, your stability, your sanity. You know it, but the cost of walking away, losing this person who is the centre of your world is just too high. So between you, you spiral downward, clinging to each other as if that’ll help.

Jealous Love
If you’re loved back with the same jealousy, this can bind you together be fulfilling and strengthening, but if you’re not, if your other is more cavalier, flirts, then this too is destructive. This is the love that leads to “If I can’t have her, no one can.” It’s a selfish, dissonant, hateful love.

It’s the obsessive love that leads you to constantly check their social media, talk to their friends only to hear snippets about them, wonder where they are, who they’re with, what they’re doing…

It’s a living death, of your heart being ripped from your chest and thrown on the floor, again and again.

I’ve been in love in different ways my whole adult life. I’m in love now, one way or another. I’m fulfilled, and I know I fulfil and give what’s needed – which by lucky happenstance is what I want to give. And they give me what I need, which by equally lucky chance is what they want to give. Or at least, so it seems to me.

There’ll come a time, sad though it is, when one or other of us want something different. I hope then we’ll fall back to unselfish love and let the other go, with best wishes and good will, and still be supportive friends.

Love doesn’t always end that way. Good loves can change, become self destructive, can crash and burn into one of the other bad loves. That’s always sad, and we’ve all had our fair share of that.

Falling in love is easy. Staying in love is harder. The end of love is the hardest of all, and the one least likely to get the effort from us. And the one perhaps the most rewarding and deserving to get right. One of my closest friends, a person I can call day or night, is the first girl I loved 27 years ago.

So, there it is: a Valentine’s Day post about love. Every post on this blog is about love. Erotic love, passion, filth. It’s no less love than the romantic love of Working Title Movies. Erotic love is also Love, Actually.