Thinking about Tofu

I've had a few days now to think about the other night, and what it may mean for our sex life.

Firstly, as I mentioned before, I was pleasantly surprised. I had been worried that an absence of arousal on his part and a probable lack of emotional intimacy and "preliminaries" would mean that I simply wouldn't be able to get aroused and stimulated enough to be satisfied. But in fact, there was quite a lot of touching and kissing before his bringing me to orgasm by hand. Rather than wanting me to "get on with it and get it over with", as I thought he might, he encouraged me to slow down and enjoy it rather than racing to finish. There was intimacy there, both physical and emotional.

And I had two surprisingly powerful orgasms - if anything, more powerful than the ones I usually have. I think this may have been partly because not attempting to do anything to him allowed me to focus completely on my own body and what I was feeling. In my experience, the female orgasm, great as it is, generally requires a lot of focus. And there was a certain greedy-pig satisfaction in not having to think of him, or what I should do next to him, and being able to focus solely on my own pleasure.

I think the absence of that nervous clashing libido chatter in my head ("Is he doing this because he really wants to? Have I guilted him into this? Is he enjoying himself?") really helped, too.

I was relieved to find that it lacked that quality of humiliation and desperation of the dreaded mercy fuck. It did not feel like it was motivated by guilt and manipulation. It felt like it was motivated by love.

However, I did notice the absence of that sweet, mutual satisfaction and tenderness that has generally followed our lovemaking. Afterwards, instead of snuggling together and telling each other how great it was, he got up quite matter of factly to watch TV, and I followed his lead in that respect.

My honest feeling was that, overall, that session was more like an elaborate masturbation session that happened to involve him than making love. It was nicer than masturbation in that he was involved. It was more exciting than masturbation, in that it wasn't just a routine getting off. There was an absence of resentment on my part of the "Oh, well, I'll just do it myself, then, AS USUAL!!! variety. And yet, there was also that critical absence of mutuality.

I also didn't have that feeling of exhilaration and euphoria that I generally have after good sex between us - perhaps because of an underlying sadness and sense of defeat that we have come to this, after more than a decade of my fighting very hard for something very different.

But, you know, the other night did show that I can be physically satisfied and see that my partner is making a real effort to meet my needs, and that he can do so without causing himself any pain or sickness. We both, in a sense, felt better - me, primarily because I could stop feeling so deprived and focus on other things, and I could appreciate his thoughtfulness instead of feeling so resentful, and him because he could stop feeling so guilty. But the feeling better was essentially about reducing negative feelings rather than creating and enjoying positive feelings.

Overall, I would say that the tofu burger analogy holds. I wanted that sizzling hot steak. I wanted it more than anything. And tofu burger, however beautifully prepared, is not what I wanted. If the steak was available, I would be going right for it.

But, you know, tofu burger is nourishing in its way. And if tofu is all there is, I am better off appreciating it for what it is than focusing on what it isn't.

And probably any kind of food is better than starvation.

And after all, as people say, its the company that counts. Its not the food - its who you're having it with.