Sexuality is Fluid, They Say - Reader's Contribution

by polymisfit

Sexuality is Fluid, they say.

Fluidity, bell curves yada ye yi. Honestly this topic just leaves me yawning when people start it because most of the time, people do not actually have real human experiences to go by. Now, I do know that for some people fluidity is real because they live it and feel it . All I have to say to them is : lucky bastards. Believe me I envy you. So basically the point of this all is that eventually I share my personal experiences concerning the fluidity of sexuality (or attraction, if you must) right? Well here goes

To start off let me state my position, I strongly believe people when they say sexuality is fluid (or at least try to), I really do. But I just feel as though people are telling half-truths that just do not stick it in the long-run. *read: after people’s clothes are off and it’s time to do it*. For me the fluidity of people’s sexuality is much like the mythical white liberal who stays in the townships and works on menial jobs till the day of his death. Mythical being the operative word.

I really don’t even know what I identify as in social spaces, but in hostile spaces that seek to politicise my existence I usually identify as lesbian. I am not even sure if I should even try and put a label to everything that I feel and act on. At the end of the day, whenever I walk out of my house and go out there, I know that my mind is going to be blown away by what I find attractive. It is always different, shocking and often times just purely insane.
I am attracted to skinny butch women, slim femmes, curvaceous, thick femmes ( and I mean real thick, the fuck you thinking Barbie doll-ish- knifed up-silicon assed- fake women for? I mean real women, thighs, ass, bosoms and wobbly bits), Dark women, light women, all women. Okay cool. When I say I am ‘attracted ‘in this instance what I mean is, once these women’s clothes are off it is wet riding all the way.

At the same time I am attracted to extremely effeminate gay men (based on this one lap dance I once got and subsequently will never forget.) When it comes to masculine straight (or bi) men however, ish just gets complicated. I can honestly say that on any given day, I’m guaranteed to come back home and not even remember any encounter that I had with any of them. I just don’t see it. I remember hoping and praying at 15 that I would turn 16/17 fast enough for me to finally know what it feels like when you look at a man’s abs. 16 came and went and I still really don’t quite get what other women drool over, but I would like to, I suppose. You see, I like things. However, from time to time I still get attracted to some men (dead or alive); occasionally I’d like to believe that I even flirt with them. You know, I have had some effed-up drunken nights filled with stately debauchery, that always resulted in me being given the eye by my partner ,because some guy would call and apparently I would have given him my number. Do you get the point though, fluidity? I am quite fluid. Quite*

When it comes to these men that I am attracted to they all have this in common * Stories, Jazz and hip-hop. I have fallen for so many writers who just so happened to be men and into jazz and hip-hop, oh and I dare not forget, reggae. It’s always the same story line, they think I am cool and different and, and weird! And I’m always chasing their story. But at the end of the day, at some point our clothes have to come off right. Right! *crickets playing Bach in the background* Again, I could totally do this straight thing if I wasn’t so conscious about my right, as a woman, to Impossibly Great sex. I have been told countless of times that I am phallaphobic and to that I just say: fuck you. I can’t take a D and I’m cool with that. I mean I feel a little bit short-changed because when I was growing up and watching porn, seeing the way that those girls would moan, I mean damn I had high expectations. To a certain extent I still do, I mean whenever someone(woman) I am having sex with says “let me finger you” perfectly knowing that I don’t do that, I still feel some sort of pity (almost) and need to make their experience with me as beautiful as they imagined it, so I let them. Also I do this just so that they know how quick this pussy dries up when it so much as smells phallic things approaching its orifice.

I am actually one of those woman loving women who have tried real D (and fake)a couple of times. I think I try to please people too much; I do this hoping it will enhance my own sexual experiences but, bleh after a couple of bad ones, this policy has long since been re-evaluated.

After having my 1st sexual experience with a guy and absolutely feeling like I should sue the porn industry collective, I listened to those voices that come at you with them “ Maybe you just didn’t try the right D”s and your “That nigga didn’t know shit about what he was doing” type of ‘insights’.

So vag and I gave it another shot, this time around he was taller and darker , kinda reminded me of my 1st boyfriend so it was on. It aint even like I just tried once and gave him a swift “ get off me boo”, we did this about 3 times . 3 shitty fuckin’ times. Seeing that 1st try wasn’t physically satisfying as I hoped it would be(all penetration) , the 2nd time I made sure that I straddled his dangling bits with my clit , because I wasn’t leaving without giving my clit that orgasm I was desperate to have. Yep, thurrrst *gulps down my damn brandy.*

I let him penetrate me after I was done as a thank you , I guess and honestly … bleh ,you know the drill. It’s just not for me. 3rd time around I really didn’t want to do much because well ,his cousin was around and *mumbles sentence* me and the said cousin *female* had paved for ourselves a smoother way to hell ,2 nights before , I think. My sexual experience with her hammered so many raw truths into my sphere of consciousness, it reminded me that my vag has no point to prove, it’s my mind that needs healing. So anyway 3rd try, I straddled him with my clit again till’ I got my orgasm, then I left. This time around I didn’t even want to return favours or anything, he protested, got mad and blue but hey, good sex teaches you not to compromise. And bad ex ,well… forget that ish.

I know that there are people out there who can truly have great sexual experiences with both genders; I’m being sincere when I say… Good for them. But I have met one too many women who identify as bisexual and yet can only have great sex with one gender, duty sex with the other. At the end of the day no matter how fluid we would like to believe we are, our sexual organs don’t lie. Sexuality is fluid in our minds, but our vaginas and penises still need some convincing. I know that this is a struggle that one has to go through on their own and win but I’m just going to give you a nudge anyway: If your pussy dries up whenever something (that is meant to be sexually gratifying) is being done to you ,maybe you should start considering alternatives(in terms of sexual orientation, if you haven’t opened your mind yet)/ forgetting sexual fluidity philosophies(if your mind is already open , maybe close it?) No? Okay, just putting it out there.

*sigh* I realise that I am going against some of the things I believe in with that piece of advice. Disregard it, rather. Just … if your clit’s voice is a sonorous drone and your internal pleasure centres sound like monks who took a silence vow , just listen to your damn clit and quench it, sate it , whatever, just. The reverse is true and I would imagine the same applies with men, perhaps.

…At any rate ,I stay nurturing my vagina’s state of blissful incomprehension , with regards to the fluidity of sexuality…

By Hazel