What’s your thought on the phrase ‘making love’? Do you ever ask someone to ‘make love to me’? & is it possible to “make love” anally? My girlfriend says no, as it’s a more submissive act, and raunchy. Great blog, thanks!
Neither Nikki nor myself knew that when we read your questions, you would be sparking a revelation. Although we’re soulmateclones and have talked about practically everything under the sun and have seen each other naked and, um… <cough> Anyway… Nikki didn’t know that I avoided using the term “making love.” BOOM! Revelation rendered. It was an unintentional attack of shock and awe. OK, so not much awe, but I know that Nikki gasped. Maybe once. But let me explain why I hate that phrase.
I refuse to use the term “making love.” So much so that I’ve told the people I fuck that if they utter that phrase during our naked time I’m kicking them out of my bed. To me, the phrase “making love” conjures the poignant moment in the Romantic Comedy when the lights dim, the sweet music starts and couple shares a physical joining that somehow encompasses all their love and dreams and life’s purpose culminating in mutual orgasms timed precisely at the same time so that they think, breathe and feel a magical communion of body and soul. It’s a happily ever after moment that’s great for film and telling a story effectively. But it comes nowhere close to what I believe are realistic expectations in the bedroom.
“Making love” seems to say that for sex to be emotionally significant, it must be tender and delivered in a gentle manner. I say bullshit. I also don’t want my partners to feel like every time we have sex it must be done in a romantic way in order to communicate that they have feelings for me. I don’t want Prince or Princess Charming in my bed. I want a real person and an authentic sexual experience for everyone involved.
Instead of making love, I’m fond of saying “fuck.” In fact, I love to say fuck, and I love to fuck. I choose to use this word to describe the sex I have, because I feel that it best communicates the intensity of what I feel with my sexual partners. It’s a visceral emotional and physical interaction that leaves us breathless and as close as two (or three) people could be. Fucking can be tender and gentle or rough and slaphappy. In my vocabulary book, it’s a flexible word that can be used to describe all sorts of sexual configurations independent of gender and sexual preferences.
In my humble opinion, the English language doesn’t have enough words to describe sexual intercourse. If the Inuit dialect has at least 53 words* to describe the nuances of “snow” then why can’t the English language have the same for “sex?” The fact of the matter is that there’s no inbetween word that lies between the romanticized, over-emotional ‘making love’ and the hard-hitting word ‘fuck.’ You’re either dressed as a knight and wooing your fair maiden to bestow her favor upon your codpiece or you’re backing her up against the wall and getting down and dirty with her. These are just two words that mean sex. What counts is how you and your girlfriend feel when you connect physically and emotionally in a sexual way. Call it fucking badminton if you like; what remains is that you love each other, right?
It’s true. I gasped when Heather confessed her strong dislike for the act of, and even the term ‘making love’. I may have even stuttered. I mean seriously, we’ve been besties for nearly three years now and we know everything about the other, OR SO WE THOUGHT.
We do know quite a bit about each other, though. Heather has a lifetime subscription to my Vagina Report, and I’ve seen her nekkid, a lot. But we had no idea we had such different views on making love. It truly was a revelation.
Yes? Yes? Pfft, whatever.
Katie Kamara said:
“Love making is the matrimony of physical desire, spiritual elevation, and emotional alignment and synchronicity.”
That’s some pretty heavy stuff, but let’s talk a little about ‘fucking’ before we dive into those deep waters.
In the past, ‘fucking’ was an unemotional act for me. It was a no-strings, get your rocks off, get the fuck out of my bed kind of thing. My feelings on ‘fucking’ have changed greatly, though. ‘Fucking’ can be rife with emotion, but in my opinion, it fills a different, more primal need. And if love is part of the equation, it doesn’t disappear when fucking. I just think it’s channeled differently.
‘Making love’, however, is very different for me because of the elements of pure emotion involved. It fills the needs of my softer side.
Yes, I have one. Shut up.
Anyway, I never hesitate to ask, or even beg Mr. K to make love to me. I’m not afraid to admit I need moments of tenderness, or that I need to hear I love you in my ear. He needs those moments, too. He needs to feel my legs wrapped around him, holding him impossibly close. And then he needs to flip me over and fuck my brains out because it’s how we roll.
To me, anal penetration is no different than vaginal penetration, really. Okay, there’s a whole lotta difference as far as holes are concerned, but the psychology of it is the same. While there are those who view anal sex only as an act of submission, or “raunchy” fucking, there are others, like me, who don’t limit its definition. Unlike the anus itself, the definition of anal play is flexible and can be molded to fit the ‘headspace’ of the moment. Anal sex can be whatever you want it to be. It can be the ultimate act of submission, it can be rough and raunchy, and it can also be the rawest form of making love.
So the bottom line is yes, you can make love anally, which means your girlfriend is wrong. You can even tell her I said so. Just kidding. *I’m totally serious*
David Robson. There really are 50 Eskimo words for ‘snow’. New Scientist. The Washington Post, 14 Jan. 2013. Web. 28 Aug. 2013. <http://articles.washingtonpost.com/2013-01-14/national/36344037_1_eskimo-words-snow-inuit>