I have been enthralled with that one word during sex. As my lover held me tighter, grinded himself into me from behind, groped my vagina, and announced, “Mine.” Just before nipping my ear and pushing his fingers in and out of me. I was so turned on already. Wet and aroused. His fingers gliding in and out so easily, as I rode them, my hips rocking back and forth rhythmically. He played my vagina like a musical instrument he was magically (or vagically) skilled at playing.
It is SO incredibly hot to be possessed by a lover. To know that they want…you. You and only you. Like a deep itch they can’t scratch. But a deep, desirous itch. And you possess the fingernails that can get down deep inside. You: your vagina, your sexuality, the you that makes up you…is desired on that level.
Being MINE to a lover is terribly intoxicating; a thing to be yearned for. I definitely yearn to be desired in that way; and for that kind of connection.
I want to be possessed by my lover.
But only in that intense, hot as hell, in this moment, orgasmic sex sort of way. In the kind of ankles-over-the-shoulder, hawt! fuck me faster right now, sex kind of way.
But this…my vagina. My hotness. My sex guru-ness (I just made up that word). It is all mine. It belongs to me. I am no one’s possession. As I am not his, he is not mine.
Belonging to no one can be so freeing. You meet a couple in a bar that you talk to for hours. You make a connection. They invite you back to their hottub. Their home is palacially beautiful. I thoroughly enjoyed my time in that hottub. Loved gaining the knowledge of being a part of and invited into their world for a short moment in time. That experience couldn’t have taken place had the tethers of a monogamous contract held me from moving to that place; helped me gain and add that to the repertoire of my personality, and my sex guru-ness.
Everything that takes place in these moments- caressing and kissing tender, sacred places. Holding each other tight, skin to skin. There is no penetration, but there’s full contact. And it is so therapeutic. So feeling. I couldn’t feel that if my lumberjack of a boyfriend doesn’t approve, and is away at a different bar.
These moments that contribute to me as an individual, would be unattainable; so out of grasp, or placed in the box of the normal dichotomy held by the restraints of the norms of monogamous relationships.
We live in a culture that values married relationships; where boys and girls/women and men belong to one another. It’s the accepted/expected culture of monogamy. Monogamy makes some people feel safer. But safety is often counter-productive to personal growth. In a world where it is becoming increasingly acceptable to think, live, and express outside the box, perhaps it is time we reconsider the necessity of monogamy. Or at least explore the possibility of loosening their bonds.
As a Perelian, (believer in the teachings of psychotherapist Esther Perel) I have considered the notion that one partner cannot quench the complex thirst of our every need. That is, a spouse or partner cannot possibly be best friend, lover, and partner in crime. And when within that partnership, the constraints of traditional marriage exist, that partnership cannot help but be a deterrent to obtaining full self actualization. Because natural to that bond are constraints that limit personal experiences that lend themselves to personal growth.