@SwitchableSusie - . . . and that was exactly my intention in my early posts in this thread.
When you love each other and fuck each other, it's different from fucking friends with benefits or making love. The sex can be great in any of the three circumstances, but each partner should know the mindset of the other to avoid hurt feelings.
Ever since you wrote this powerful little blurb - I've been thinking about it and the original question 'How do women want to be fucked and are virgin women over-rated'. Aside from the obvious - attractions of 'just fucking' I think there is more to fucking and being fucked and your little blurb screams this obvious fact. I think of words like - comfort level, familiarity, approachability, but fucking comes back to love for me.
I have had sex - with quite a few men in my time, not fucked, but had sex. I knew all of them - they were friends to some degree, and for whatever reason, or circumstance, I had sex with them. I did not fuck them - I had sex with them, and it was anywhere from 'OH WOW' π to 'meh' π and everything in between. It was sex - not fucking for the most part. I've never had the occasion - as you have written elsewhere @SwitchableSusie to be somewhere to do a lot of sex, but I think you referred to it as fucking. You'll have to forgive me - but I can't seem to find that exact thread, or post of yours where you talked about having sex with men, and I'm not even sure if I'm even doing justice to your tone or expression during that post.
So to help my itty bitty brain - and help myself wrap my heart around this thread, I am having to rethink how I define, 'making love' πΉ , 'having sex' π , and 'fucking' π . I can't think of the three - the same way anymore, thank you - or - curse you @SwitchableSusie π
For right now - I'm defining, for myself, that making love is exactly what it means, making love with someone you adore and have deep feelings for, and who sees you at your best and worst and still loves you anyway. You make love with those people - they are there for you. You catch yourself - feeling warm and fuzzy hours, days, months, years later of how making love with that special someone made you feel and that you hoped you made them feel the same way about you. You care about them - you care about their feelings. And maybe he hit that - 'spot' and you found yourself devouring him because he is the one you trust to see you completely losing it. It's at the point where - making love turns into fucking, in my mind. π
Having sex - that was when me and the one I was with agreed to have sex, good or bad, satisfying or maybe just sex, with or without a lot of emotional attachment. It was something I wanted at the time - and I'm glad I did it with them. I keep thinking - of the word 'nice' to describe sex overall, and I may or may not have screamed in ecstasy when I was kicking out the dome light of his pickup truck. I may even have held back a little - it was 'just sex' and I'm not sure I want word getting out that I'm a screamer. π And maybe describing it to a girl friend the next day - 'it was just sex and it wasn't bad' and what did you think of Samantha's shoes? While you might care about them - you might say something like, 'yeah, that was good', smile to yourself, and then go back paying the bills.
But as I got older - and absolutely since I've came here, fucking has become a whole different thing for me. I've got to have that emotional - and animal connection with the one that you trust seeing the real you unleashed and uncensored. It's the one that knows you - loves you, and gets you and understands that sometimes, at any given moment, you are just a fucking sex fiend hell bent on getting hers and wants it right there and right then, and there's nothing refined or delicate about it one tiny little bit. It's that time - when I have one thing on my mind and only that one I want to fuck gets to see me that way. πΉ They earned that right - and you wouldn't have it any other way. π
And with the full understanding - that even if you are paying the bills and trying to balance the check book, you might feel his hands all over your boobs, down in your bra, breathing down your neck, and taking whatever you might be wearing off, and there you are, hoping that neither one of you cums all over the top of the table or desk where you are writing out the checks, because, honey, I'm being fucked. Call you back later - maybe. π
I think - I know I need to redefine fuck and sex. In my mind and heart - they no longer are the same.