Sunday, July 11

I like sex with the lights on. Granted, I don't want bright light shining into my eyes since I find that very unpleasant. Low lamp light is preferable to unflattering overhead lighting, and don't even get me started on flourescents. Ick.

People that spend a lot of time with me might find that kind of odd that I prefer lights on sex, considering I'm always the one shutting off bright overhead lights and switching on lamps instead. I even have a dimmer switch for my awful overhead kitchen light. When I was in college friends used to tease me about being a vampire because I wasn't one to ever bother opening my dorm room curtains to let in the light of day.

I like to be able to see what's going on because I feel more connected to the person and the experience that way, I think. Perhaps I'm a little bit of a voyeur and a bit exhibitionistic, too.

I had a weekend once with a lover in a hotel room that was pure indulgence. We got a total of 6 hours sleep over the course of two nights, and somehow managed to use 18 condoms. Afterwards, not only was I surprised I could actually still walk, but I realized we didn't spend any of that time in positions where we weren't directly looking at one another. (The one time we did it doggie, I was bent over a dresser with a mirror on top.)

I was thinking that perhaps one of the reasons that sex with the boyfriend seems so detached and mechanical is because he prefers the pitch black darkness, and he usually gets his way. Sometimes I get the feeling that when he's fucking me with his eyes closed in the dark, in his head he's banging Jenna Jameson.