'Night Geometry' by Jack Vettriano
“I do not want to be the leader. I refuse to be the leader. I want to live darkly and richly in my femaleness. I want a man lying over me, always over me. His will, his pleasure, his desire, his life, his work, his sexuality the touchstone, the command, my pivot. I don’t mind working, holding my ground intellectually, artistically; but as a woman, oh, God, as a woman I want to be dominated. I don’t mind being told to stand on my own feet, not to cling, be all that I am capable of doing, but I am going to be pursued, fucked, possessed by the will of a male at his time, his bidding.” --- Anais Nin
I discovered something interesting---and surprising, maybe even a little disturbing---about myself when I read this quote by Anais Nin.
The words aroused me. Turned me on. Sent the old proverbial shivers up this dame's spine. Catapulted me straight into a dark, delicious fantasy in which a man---virile, take-charge, fearless---made love to me, took control in bed and played me like a horny violin. In this otherworldly scenario, I lent myself completely and with total abandon to his will. What he wanted, I did. And did so without question, a purring little pussycat under the touch of a strong, masterful stroke.
Damn. This...is...not...me. I've always been the mistress of my own fate, the hard-working independent woman who---as a single parent---raised a daughter to adulthood. I worked hard, brought home my own bacon.
I'm nobody's pushover, in bed or out. In fact, my credo---when it comes to men---is from the lips of Frances Marion, the powerful Hollywood screenwriter whose career spanned from the 1920's through the 80's, I spent my life searching for a man to look up to without lying down. I never depended on a man to make me feel complete, to climb my way up the professional ladder.
What happened to me when I read the Anais Nin quote? Why did I suddenly morph into the tigress in heat who craved to be overpowered sexually by the ferocious, testosterone-dripping lion? Why do I---or any woman for that matter---yearn (in my case, without even KNOWING it) to yield sexually to a man's control? To abandon my own power to him, to long that sort of domination?
Did I suddenly go dom/submissive?
No. It's not quite that. In my newborn realization, there is no yes, master, no master, no 'safe' words, no bondage, no whips. No leather.
It's just man, woman. Sex. Love making. Hands touching, lips kissing. It's---for me---letting go the reins of control once I step through the bedroom door to someone and letting them lead the way. Letting them be the strong one.
Am I compromising my pride by being the weaker one in the sexual duo? I don't think so. I'm strong every day, I clear my own path out there daily in the corporate jungle. I'm tough. I am, as I said, independent. I'm not afraid.
Is it wrong for a strong woman to crave the domination of a man? For that matter, is it a weakness for any sexual partnership---men with other man, women with women, men with women---to want, to allow the scales to be tipped in favor of a stronger mate taking the lead?
Even Anais Nin, who wrote the earlier thought and admitted she needed and demanded the male to the leader, said, I hate men who are afraid of women's strength.
Aha! And I agree. I don't respect a man who lords it over a woman because he IS afraid of her strength and who is driven by his insecurity of her independence.
But I have to admit that, in intimacy, I do so very much delight in the old-fashioned strong-to-lesser-strength ratio. As I said long ago---call the feminist police on me, throw me in the hopeless girly slammer. I just can't---no matter how hard I try or no matter how I fight that independent woman inside me---help but find enormous titillation and shivery pleasure in the thought of a man taking charge of me in the bed.
Even Nin, who falls just south of seeming too submissive, said something else that sort of put wonderful, affirming bookends to her one-extreme-to-the-other ideal: I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naïve or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman.
And there, so damn beautifully, you have it. The courage to treat me like a woman.
So you're damn straight he's strong in bed. He's a man and he knows I'm a woman and he's strong enough in his own self to not intimidated by my strength. Because, in reality, he is NOT stronger than me, he is equally as strong. For THAT man? Hell, yes, I'll be a flower bending to a powerful wind.