Kink in exile

Notes from a kinky nomad

The power of intent

Months ago I had an argument with someone over touching. I am a very physical person. I did not want this person to touch me. Why? Because it felt wrong…I don’t know why. It felt like a violation.

Last night I was getting a massage from someone who warned me that he doesn’t mix massage with sexual touch…”it’s all about intent” I believe where his words. It made sense. I am nude lying on a bed and his touch does not feel intrusive. I am fully clothes in a public space and his hand on my back crosses a line. It isn’t quantitative, I can’t tell him (for that abstract all the men in my life past, present and future value of him) where he can touch and where he can’t. I can’t even tell him when, or in what context it is appropriate. It is about the intent he comes to me with, and about my perception. It is not about long discussions of boundaries or specific codes of conduct, it is about the millisecond where his hand hovers just out of reach of my body and that fraction of a nod I give it in acknowledgment. It is about establishing the status of consent.

Written by kinkinexile

January 24, 2009 at 7:02 pm

Posted in headspace, personal

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