Twisty Faster of I Blame The Patriarchy, while fulminating against the ills of vaginal penetration in general, efforts to relieve vaginismus and, especially, to treat it with injections of brand-name botulism toxin, also has a good point. In a footnote, sure, but still a good point.
This psychnet-uk.com is a real peach. It appears to reject the notion that anything short of “actual intercourse” may be classified as sex. Orgasms achieved through clitoral stimulation are categorized as “foreplay.” Seriously! in 200-fucking-9!
Um. Yeah, by their definition the partner I had the most memorable, whole-body-shuddering, hands-trembling, heart-thumping, can’t-speak-in-complete-words-let-alone-sentences, years-later-wake-up-dreaming-about umm… um… series of physical-relationship engagements while hardly ever having “sex” at all.
Frequent vaginal penetration, yes, but not with the body part Twisty loathes most, and frequently no part of mine at all. Nor at my instigation. Nor for that matter by my hand or any other part. (Well… actually sometimes with my hand, or most of it.)
But as far as I can tell since it wasn’t vaginal penetration with Teh Cock none of that was sex either.
Hmm… since she didn’t have (external) clitoral orgasms it wasn’t foreplay either.
Dang, we must have been bored senseless!
Worse, since what we did do never counted as sex then none of the other ways we gave each other and ourselves sometimes almost painfully intense orgasms wouldn’t have been foreplay either.
You know what we did do though? We talked a lot (we didn’t always live in the same place.) And we showed each other what we liked to do to ourselves. And we spent a lot of time with each other. Naked. Touching each other. All over. No, I mean all over. Like massage. Only erotic. Like back scratching. Like shoulder rubs. Like exploring each other, your hands on top of theirs not guiding but following, their hands on yours but again not guiding but following. Like tracing each others faces, and backs, bellies, toes, ribs, throats, insides of forearms, insides of knees, curling little wisps of unshaved hair and always, always trying to get as close to tickling as possible… without tickling at all… till your skin was almost electric, till just warm breath was erotic fire. Like licking, sucking, mouthing each other, slurping fingers, ears, lips, toes, breasts, labia, cock, throats. Like oiling each other and then sliding over and across each other, reveling in not just the sensation but the weight. Like cupping each other’s groins, hers wet, mine hard, glowing in the infrared with hot blood heat. Like jacking and jilling ourselves and each other…
But since she loved penetration… but was never moved by intercourse… at least not with me and maybe not with anyone mortal… what we discovered together instead was, well, some of the most erotically profound not-foreplay-nor-sex-according-to-psychnet-uk* I’ve ever had in my life.
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Here’s the thing about Twisty though. Everybody assumes she’s a lesbian. Or asexual. Or a survivor of this or that. Or an internet troll. Maybe so although unless she says so out loud it’s really none of our business. But even if she turned out to be the founding matriarch of the F(eminist)LDS with 131 husbands stashed away in a compound somewhere near Waco it still makes sense that patriarchal crap (like Psychnet-UK’s assertion that another vagina-related psychological disorder, dyspareunia, can be caused by insufficient foreplay or infection and can be treated by counseling and psychotherapy or with medication or lubrication) would drive her batshit insane.
Actually it would make more sense that the grand matriarch of 131 husbands would have zero tolerance for standards of phallocentrism so rigid that sex isn’t even defined for a woman without a jack lodged firmly in her pulpit. For that matter just assuming that she’s a polyandrist would also explain her sense that women, being human, should have sovereignty, acknowledgement, place, compensation, and co-location with men on the species definition of H. Sapiens Sapiens.
I’m not saying she is or isn’t any particular way because I either don’t know or don’t remember. Just saying it wouldn’t be necessary to be a radical feminist separatist lesbian to carry on the way she does. And therefore it’s not terribly useful to assume she is… and to use that assumption to rule out everything she says… instead of just the stuff you disagree with.
