You Complete Me

With regard to my last post about things one can say which are sexy as Hell, it was brought to my attention that, "You complete me," is romance movie crap, which is true enough. The problem is, that's the way I feel about someone inside me. I feel completed in a way that fingers or tongue or toys just can't match.

I guess that's why I'm not a lesbian. Hell, it's why Mari "condescends" to make love to a man every so often. She doesn't find men attractive at all, isn't romantically interested in them either, and yet she enjoys a good cock now and then.

I'm not that far on the sexuality spectrum; there are guys who definitely turn my crank to look at, and I can be romantic with a man without feeling like something's off. But I am much more viscerally attracted to women. I don't mentally undress most guys, even guys who, on consideration, I'd find definitely attractive. I'm not that picky about guys. And what it boils down to is that I like to fuck guys because they have cocks. And I love cock.

I don't know what it is about being filled up with a penis, versus something which is exactly the same shape as a penis but isn't one. Really, a dildo can get me off perfectly acceptably, and in the hands of someone skilled, a toy is a far better time for me than a random guy off the street who might or might not be any good at using his penis. Many of them aren't. That's not knocking guys though; a lot of women don't know the first thing about how to get me off either, or how to get a guy off, or how to get themselves off. The state of sexual knowledge in the world is deplorable.

But leaving that aside, despite the fact that I am a devotee of lesbian sex in all its wonderful forms, despite the fact that I'd rather watch a woman strip off her clothes in preparation to join me in bed, despite being so completely okay with having sex with a woman that it's not even funny, a cock inside me completes me in a way that a woman can't. I feel bad about that sometimes. Other times, I'm happy because I don't want to limit my options; I'm happy to make love with both sides of the fence, gender-wise (as well as people sitting on the fence, or people who don't believe there's a fence at all, or anyone else who takes my fancy and is willing to give me a try).

That's a magic I can experience again and again, as opposed to some of the other sex magic I've talked about. The insertion of a cock into my pussy is magical. It completes me.

I remember when it was just a general sensation, the first few years of my sexual life. It was a feeling of completeness, but it just sort of flowed over me, like an orgasm used to before I trained myself to experience it more fully. Then, after a while, after I had more experience, penetration became not one but a series of sensations which all added up to completion. The first touch of the glans to my labia, the spreading apart as the initial penetration begins, the shifting as my muscles accommodate his girth, then the fullness as he bottoms out inside me. It's not a question of size, although some shapes are more conducive to certain sensations than others. And it's not necessarily an all-at-once thing; I've had very satisfying sex where it took quite a long time to get to the last step of the process. Completion doesn't have to mean finality either; there are all sorts of sensations after completion that are equally enjoyable.

So that's one take on completing. It's like a hole that has been filled (it's very like that, really, isn't it?). But on the opposite side of the coin, the idea of completion as an end, there are important things too.

I know some men who believe that it's the height of sexual skill to be able to get a woman off and not cum themselves. They deny themselves completion. Now I'm not saying that getting me off without cumming is bad; I'm pretty easy in that regard too. But if a guy never cums, I feel incomplete. I feel like something is missing. I'm not looking for instant ejaculation, but if the purpose of sex is for the woman to cum and the man not to, then something is very wrong.

I like to think that I made my partner orgasm. Obviously, the completion I enjoy best occurs inside me, but I'm really okay with any sort of completion. It's not the point of sex at all; sex isn't a race to orgasm for either party. Sex is completion, I suppose, physical, mental, spiritual, whatever you want. It's two (or more) people completing one another. But orgasms are part of sex. Not the sole aim, but an enjoyable part.

So if I say, "You complete me," I'm not being overly romantic. I really feel that way. Not always, obviously, although even a quickie with a total stranger can give me that physically-complete feeling. But sex is completion. And if that makes me a character in an albeit-twisted rom-com, I'm just going to have to live with that.