April 7, 2011
Of Queens, Red & White


On the other hand, fucking whilst menstruating is the deep primal bomb, baby. A point so crystal in its firm resolution that its contention is to me unfathomable.

Season two of Entourage’s episode entitled ” The Boys are Back in Town” opens with the boys return to L.A. and Vince’s manager E trying — unsuccessfully — to mate his girlfriend for the first time in three months. She puts him off by saying that she has her period, and E, ever the gentleman, demurs, only later to bring up the matter as a point of discussion for the boys.

“That’s disgusting,” says E as the four of them are walking into their agents’ office building, “you mean you guys have done it?”

“You should, alter boy,” replies Johnny Drama, “because it’s a known fact that a girl on her period is much hornier.”

From my experience, he is right. Of course, I have never been a girl other than myself, but having been this girl who has been menstruating for almost thirty-two years and fucking for nearly thirty, I can say that the period of the period is the period of the most unbridled lust.

“Unbridled” being here a very apt word. “Unbridled” is, of course, a metaphor, as are most turns of phrase that make my cognitive center light up like a Vegas slot machine. To be unbridled is to be as free as a horse. Not, mind you, a wild horse. One wouldn’t speak of the wild ponies of Chincoteague as unbridled because they have never known the bite of the steel bit in their tender virgin mouths. They have never known the brown guidance of leather. They have never known the touch of man, nor woman either, for that matter.

To be truly unbridled, a horse has to have been previously domesticated, tamed, broken. Used to the flick of the whip, maybe; certainly accustomed to the chunk of the heel or the swift smack on the flank. To be truly unbridled, a horse has to have been reigned in; otherwise she cannot be aware of her freedom. And while I hope I haven’t beaten dead this metaphoric horse, I do think the point is worth making.

My period brings me unbridled lust. (I don’t like the word “horny”; I’ll almost never use it. I use “frisky”; during my period I am frisky unto coltishness.) The discovery that I liked fucking during my period was a small feral epiphany. Many years later, it was an equal shock to find out that there would be people who didn’t feel similarly. Growing up in Vermont, I had boyfriends and girlfriends who just didn’t care about the period. My having my period just meant we needed an old dark towel. It never stopped us in our fucking stride — if anything, my menstruation just meant I didn’t have to worry about getting pregnant. We had at it, with gusto.

Marta, my first long-term girlfriend, never raised a fuss about fucking me while I was bleeding; she never said boo about giving me head. She just did it as a step of our regular sex waltz. I took her behavior to be the norm; I never thought one way or the other about her choice to go down on the menstruating me. Perhaps this void was like the idea of disgust in toddlers — social scientists have devised an experiment with rubber flies and milk to discover that it takes until about the age of five for kids to develop disgust, an abstract term that the scientists define by the child’s willingness or refusal to drink milk that has been touched by a rubber fly. I just never developed the menstrual disgust, and neither did my early partners.

It wasn’t until I met C that I encountered a man who absolutely refused to lick my menstruating pussy. I’m not a big bleeder. I have always been blessed with a relatively light period. I took his refusal with shock. I couldn’t fathom his saying no. I had to have him explain it to me, repeatedly, and even then I’m not entirely sure his reasoning stuck.

C would — and he did — fuck me, however. The relatively pristine state of his tongue was one thing, but he had no pretensions about the pristine nature of his prick: we fucked liberally. Once again a dark old towel had its day in the sun, or under my ass, anyway. Later, I would have a boyfriend of such a brief duration I can’t summon him to my mind other than to recall that he downright refused to have sex with me while I was bleeding. Aside from this remarkable — and remarkably ridiculous — point, he has been lost to the mists of my memory. And rightly so.

There are many aspects I cherish about sex — the slow grind of rollercoaster pleasure certainly tops off the list, but I also love that sex gives unparalleled intimacy of bodies and/or feelings. I love the post-coital relaxation. I love the playfulness, the goofiness, the pure absurdity of bodies interlocking. I love the naughtiness, the apotheosis of the profane where filthy utterances take on the gilded raiment of prayer. I love the sound and the smell and the taste and the spooge.

I love too that sex gives me these moments precious and few when the busy busy hamsters in my mind stop their ceaseless Habitrail whirring. When I fuck, for flickering moments, I quit thinking. Locked around my lover’s fingers, or spread and open below her laving tongue and sucking pervert’s mouth. I lose the background chatter, the cognitive susurrus, those madding crowds captive in my head. Fucking brings fleeting eternities when I just am, and for these brief black spaces between the frames that is the film of my life, I am profoundly grateful.

And menstrual sex, the kind fueled by unbridled friskiness, makes these blank moments the best. My body a tripod of two knees and my left elbow, my right hand making busy tiny messy circles on my tiny messy clit, my lover behind me, dildo inside me, I feel the bedroom dissolve around me like an acid dream. The beige walls turn misty, the mirror melts and pools, the bookcase liquefies into formlessness, the bed below me sinks and puddles. There is no bedroom, there is no apartment, there is no city pulsing outside. There is nothing.

Nothing but me and this woman behind me, cock blessedly thrusting harder and faster, my heart beating in time and this sacred period of a sweet nothing so completely consuming that later I am unable to call it back into being. It has dissolved into white, become an echo intangible, for the thinking now.


Comments

Leave a Reply




  • Our Sites

    • CyberDyke - The only erotic entertainment network for women bi women on the Web
    • CyDy Blog - Views and news about everything queer & dear to us!
    • DarkPlay - Radically different from other internet porn! RL Lesbians sharing their love of Kink with you
    • Girl Tools - Testing all manner of sexual tools! We put our satisfaction on the line so you don’t have to!
    • Minx Addiction - Sexy dark Erotica
    • Miss Amanda - Young wholesome girl-loving girl with a very special obsession!
    • Story Mistress - Erotica that does not shy away from any taboos. Created just for the open-minded lesbian or bisexual woman
    • All the Rest - Over a dozen sites in all are waiting to please you!
    • Free daily image courtesy of LSGmodels