We struggle — first him above me, my two hands held gripped in one of his above my head, then him flipped under me, his hips held down with mine — back and forth, the exertion of muscle an athletic form of foreplay.
He nips. I scratch. We roll, continually changing position, choreographing an elaborate dance in erotic exertion.
Hands roam — first his, a caress; then mine, a smack — while bodies twist, seeking to be on top… Or on bottom…
Only to seek the opposite — to dominate, to submit — seconds later, and again to change position mere moments after that.
.
When people think of ‘switching’ in a power-exchange kind of way, they often think it means taking a specific role and sticking to it, either within a ‘scene’ or in total where sexual relations (or full relationship) is concerned. One person is dominant; one person is submissive. And a ‘switch’ means a change of hats, a full-swap taking of turns.
But that’s not what switching is to me.
.
He chases me up the stairs, his hand catching the upper inside of my thigh and pulling me back, halting me.
I throw him a look over my shoulder before turning slowly around and – with him two steps below me – staring him eye to eye.
With the cock of a brow, the tables are turned. It is now I who am chasing. But I do not run to chase. I stalk…
He backs up one step at a time as I start down the stairs toward him, the not-touching closeness of our bodies creating a heated, palpable friction between us…
Until, distracted by the electricity of ‘possibility’, he loses focus and I bound away from him with a laugh — running again, two steps at a time — and we are back to the original chase.
.
Rather, ^THIS^ is what ‘switching’ is to me.
Or perhaps I should say: This is what switching was to me.
It was fluid. Interchangeable, exchangeable. Gradual, continual.
It was not about winning. It was not about topping. (Or bottoming.) It was not ‘scene’-based. It was not a hat worn. (Or traded.)
Rather than being a fight for control, it was a delight in sharing control. There was fun in the give-and-take, and even though it was playful, it was also a serious expression of erotic appreciation.
But as I said: This is what switching was to me.
When I was switchy.
But honestly — and it’s been like this for quite a while now — I think my ‘switch’ is currently set to OFF.
I don’t share your fluid ability to switch although unlike some, I CAN switch. I just need time to make the transition. However, as for that “off position” thing? I am inexplicably in a very similar situation. I’ve never felt this asexual before, but it is a current fact……and I’m not THAT old.
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I think, for the most part, I am just “the boss” — which we both know and understand, which is why this back-and-forth can happen. Like, I’m not going to END on th bottom, y’know?
But I used to enjoy playing with the back-and-forth UNTIL the end (when I landed on top).
Now, though…
NOPE.
You might have something there with ‘asexual’. I’ll have to give that some thought.
You have got me thinking now. We don’t often do the struggle thing but I enjoy it when we do. I have thought if it more as primal play as we tend to be pretty rough and more ‘animalistic’. I hadn’t thought about this being switchy but I see what you mean and the struggle is something I get into. I always give in to being overpowered in the end but the flight it a good part. We have switched in a more traditional way with me playing with him. It feels more like a role than something I actually am but but it can be enjoyable and interesting. I think we both learn from trying out the opposite role. My switch is pretty much off too at the moment. Perhaps it needs a chase and a struggle to flick it back on? Missy x
Yes, the animalistic elements can certainly come out during a physical struggle.
If you are referring to switching roles for a scene when you say “a more traditional way,” and you decided to write about what that means for you two, I would definitely be interested in reading about that.
It seems a lot of people have their switches set to “off” at the moment. I had a lovely couple of days when there were sparks but no thanks to this perimenopause I find myself dealing with the red tide 11 days sooner than I should. I’m tempted to give up altogether and just wait till my uterus decides to close up shop for good before thinking about s-e-x again.
I do love your version of switching – I never thought of it this way. Thanks for a different view.
Hooray for good days! (But BOO! to the screwy cycle!)
I think the (peri)menopause pieces just further fragments the “off” for me — in lighting terms: dimmed, flickering, pitch black, shorting out, etc.
I think my wiring is crossed. *laugh*
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