October 2003

The Power of Pussy
Dear Jane,

There’s a stereotype that men are just into flesh, whereas women want real relationships that involve vulnerability. That’s sometimes true, but there’s another side of the story as well.

There’s a realm of erotic hunger, excitement, and adventure that doesn’t require much physical contact for its satisfaction. In fact, it sometimes works better without physical contact. The seat of this side of the erotic impulse is in the mind, not the sex organs. An ultimate expression of this impulse, for me, could be something as simple as a woman’s knowledge of what it is I want, deliberately withholding it, and taking pleasure in this—and in making it sting, and in gently fanning the flames of the frustration. Or exploring a fetish in a way that slices open my psychic innards as with a razor.

The key thing that intensifies it is realness: her looking into my eyes, and her authentic sense of amusement and pleasure in the imbalance of power: her mastery and my frustration. None of this requires a dog collar. I’d rather she use her knowledge and intelligence and wit—with a dash of affectionate but amused cruelty—to tap into the deepest, most vulnerable and inaccessible well of my psyche and knowingly create havoc there. And to have fun doing it.

It’s all about the exploitation of vulnerability, not satisfying the flesh but more than gratifying the mind. It’s a mind game of the most delicious kind. Why aren’t women interested in playing this game? If any of them are, what qualities do they possess so that I can recognize them? I want a woman who will get to the stage with me of taking a psychological risk—on both sides. Why is this virtually impossible to find?

JM

Dear JM,

Because most women are as clueless about their sexual power as you are frustrated about finding one who will use that power to erotically torment you. Simply stated, you want to be teased . . . it’s a mind game men and women have been playing for mutual pleasure since Biblical times. Teasing a man is as much art as instinct: it’s a game of dangling possibility of intimacy through the shrewd use of female sexual power. Sadly, most women don’t have a clue what it is to tease or why they’d want to.

We live in a society that is as puritanical as it is prurient. Since our supposed “liberation” in the 1960s, women’s perception of their own sexuality is still that good girls “don’t”—although we’re not sure what they don’t—and bad girls spread their legs on the Internet.

We women are clueless about sexuality on so many levels. Take the physical: Too many women are more familiar with a man’s sex organ than with our own; too many of us buy into the male-centric idea that a man’s mighty single orgasm is superior to our multiple ones.

And when we women think about our bodies, too often we dwell on the cellulite on our thighs or the age showing on our face or the inadequacy of our breasts—and not about the innate power of our pussy. And when we think like that, we’re withholding our sexual selves—from ourselves as well as from you.

On a mental level, most of us are even less savvy: We think we must be “chosen” by a man when the reality is that we who ultimately do the choosing; we accept and perpetuate a centuries-old construct in the bedroom in which men are dominant and women submissive; and we have almost no understanding—let alone acceptance—of men’s unlimited and creative expressions of sexuality, and often don’t even know our own!

Throw into the mix the ordinary guy who fears women’s sexuality and misinterprets the signals we do try to send—and we get banal “Mars & Venus” types of books trying to sort out the confusion.

Because of our biology, perhaps it’s not amazing that men and women get together at all. What’s amazing is that we have any fun doing so.

If women knew the power of their sexuality, life would be far more interesting—certainly it would be sexier in more different ways. Imagine . . . if women knew the power of a garter “accidentally” showing. Or of a direct gaze, a “knowing” eyebrow raised just before she looks away. Or of the offhand, naughty double entendre uttered at an opportune moment. If women knew absolutely that they had what you wanted—which they do—they’d have the world (of men and probably a lot more) by the tail.

How do you know when you’ve stumbled upon a woman who knows the exalting power of playing a man like a violin—a most willing, uh, instrument? She easily makes eye contact with you. She wears body-conscious clothes and projects confidence. She moves as though she’s comfortable in her own skin. She speaks her mind.

When you talk about how pin-up art from the 1940s turns you on because the women depicted are sweet yet know very well they hold the power in the fantasy they’re projecting, she’ll understand what you’re talking about.

While you’re waiting for this teasing temptress with bemused attitude to stride confidently into your life wearing a flirty skirt and tight cardigan sweater, stop by my Yahoo group on tease . . .groups.yahoo.com/group/uncoveringtease. . . It’s free and we talk openly about the power of and our love of teasing women, in art and in life. Everyone in the group, of course, would rather live than write about this sublime dynamic. You are not alone.

Keeping Secrets Hidden
Dear Jane,

I confess that I have a secret obsession for every aspect of women’s panties, from the hint of their curves underneath a woman’s clothes to the charging sight of a table covered with them at a department store. I know personally the excitement of wearing a white floral print under my jeans as well as I know the incredible feel of a pink chiffon thong running tight against my soft spots.

I must also confess that it’s a secret that I’ve shared with no one else, except you at this moment. Even my girlfriend, whom I love incredibly, has no clue. She is well aware of and accepts my bisexuality, and since I have no desire to be with anyone else, we’re secure with each other.

I admit, though, I don’t have a drawer full of pink bikinis anywhere for her to find. Nor do I go telling her, for example, that a couple of weeks ago I dreamed of wearing a powder blue, tiny satin robe and panty set for a beautiful man, who in the dream hungrily banged my backside. The dream lives comfortably in my head, makes me blush when I’m alone on a plane or my car, but ultimately it is nothing more than a glorious fantasy. In no way does it compare to the great life I have with my girlfriend.

Thus I was alarmed at your response to one of the letters in Leg Show from a poor soul who lost his wife over his wearing panties, saying that one who does not openly share his or her desires is destined to a life of loneliness. I certainly hope you don’t believe this is so. Just as I don’t know every inch of my girlfriend’s desires, everyone she’s ever been with, or everything she’s ever done in bed, so she doesn’t know every inch of mine. Instead, we know and discover things about our own chemistry and go from there. It’s wonderful, satisfying, and quite often orgasmic—far from what I’d call lonely.

Surely, everyone is different, and given what I’ve told you, do you really think I’m being unfair to myself and my lover because she doesn’t know that before she met me it wasn’t always a pair of boxers or briefs holding me in place?

A Slight Shade of Satin

Dear Satin Doll,

What I said to the sweetheart of a man who had lost his first wife to his cross-dressing and wasn’t sure whether to disclose this dimension of himself in a new relationship was, “Keeping an aspect of ourselves as integral as our sexuality secret from the person closest to us is a recipe for a life marked by shame, guilt, and loneliness.” I based this response on what, for ten years, men have been telling me they long for: the desire to be known. And, once known, to be accepted. Especially by their partners. Even better is to be celebrated for their creative sexuality. But they’re realistic enough to know they may not get the “celebrated” part; they’ll gladly settle for acceptance.

You’re right, of course, that we’re never going to know every aspect of our partner’s past—what they’ve done in bed, the number of partners they’ve had, etc. But knowing our partner’s history is far different from letting one another know something about us that’s integral to our being. Connection comes through sharing ourselves with each other—warts, fantasies and all.

You say you don’t need to act on your bisexuality. So why did you tell your girlfriend of this, but not of your fondness—your word was “obsession”—for panties? I’m not saying that it has to do with shame or guilt or worry that she’ll judge you, but the possibility that it might is worth examining. Another possibility is an unconscious desire to exert power over her, i.e., “I know that she can’t handle this.” And, “I know something she doesn’t.”

Also . . . your fantasies of being dressed in pretty lingerie and taken by a “beautiful man” who hungrily bangs your backside . . . yes, today they’re delicious fantasies that don’t need to be acted on. But what if they ever do?

In the blush of new love, we think we’ll never need anything but what we have right now—this particular partner, this particular sex. Write me in five years, sweet Satin Doll—I wonder whether you’ll be singing the same tune. I hope so, but I’ve found that over time our long-dormant desires start demanding attention.

It’s helpful then to have a partner who knows the core of us, who feels connected enough to us to want to act out our wonderfully wild fantasies. Wouldn’t it be easier, for instance, to ask your girlfriend to dress you up in a powder blue satin robe and skimpy panties and take you with a strap-on if she already knew of your fantasies in this arena?

Yes, I agree with you that everyone is different. And you may be a person who can remain satisfied rolling your delicious fantasies around in your own mind, alone and apart.

But, I’ll tell you, darling . . . If you were my boyfriend and I found out you kept your fantastically creative mind all to yourself, depriving me of the fun of teasing you with my panties then forcing you to wear them—or getting out the strap-on—or taking either of these fantasies and weaving them with my own even naughtier ones, then I’d feel robbed.

So, even if you don’t need to tell her for your sake, you maybe should consider doing so for hers. And if you just can’t? Then perhaps you’re in the wrong relationship. Maybe not today, but someday. I stand by my position that by sharing our secrets we’re ultimately happier, more connected, and more satisfied. In the sack and out of it.

Jane is the owner of X-traordinary Talk! and can be found on the Internet at www.xtratalk.com. Ask for Jane’s advice on any aspect of fetish sexuality by e-mailing her at jane@xtratalk.com. “Advice to Boys Who Need It Bad” is a registered trademark of X-traordinary Talk! Please note that Jane’s advice is from the viewpoint of a caring, softly dominant woman; it is not intended to replace professional therapy. All questions are “real,” although may be edited for length.

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