Sep 062011

I just realized, just this moment, that there is a phrase I utter in my fantasies, in my mind, all the time, that I can hear echoing in my head as the prelude to almost any self-arousal, and as an essential part of any masturbation, but I have never uttered it during phone sex:

tell me you love me

Late at night, when I start getting sleepy and snuggly, and I take a deep breath and listen to my body, those words echo through my mind before I know where they will lead, but they set the stage.

tell me you love me

I worry about being manipulative, even though I know sometimes I am, by the nature of the business. But I have lines I try to draw: I never ask anyone to refill their account after the one-minute warning (except for the one guy who asks me if I want you to come back, and I know you do it because you like to hear me beg). If I hear the one-minute warning and I know you’re close, I’ll push instead of slowing down, even knowing that if you climax, you’re more likely to hang up and send me a thank-you note than you are  to refill your account.

tell me you love me

Over the weekend, I built a ridiculously intense connection with a caller and told him it sounded like he was telling me he loved me, but there were a million ways for him to sluff off my comment, and I knew he was smart enough to navigate beyond that if he chose to.

tell me you love me

But it’s different than the phrase I hear in my head. That one, it is direct, unsluffable. It’s needy. It’s desperate. It’s manipulative. I could never say those words to someone unless I trusted them deeply to hold their own power, emotionally, to not let me coerce them, to only tell me if it’s the truth.

tell me you love me

Sometimes the emotion behind someone else’s words can hit me square in the chest, or in the gut, or make my head spin, or make my mouth water. It is irrational that I would crave for someone to tell me they love me when I logically find the word to be meaningless without further definition. And yet, the origins of a thousand orgasms are in these words for me:

tell me you love me

… and I don’t know why. I’ve started writing probably a dozen stories with that as the first line, and I get lost in them, unfinished, because they never seem worthy enough to fill in the possibilities the phrase creates.

I won’t do it. I won’t say those words to you. Not over the phone, not when you’re paying for the call. You’re there for your pleasure and entertainment, I couldn’t ask that of you.

But if you tell me to say them, tell me I can, I will,

Tell me you love me.

But if those words tumble out of my mouth, and you respond, I’ll warn you now, I don’t know what my response will be, other than … intense.


  11 Responses to “Tell Me You Love Me”

  1. “There can be sex without love, and love without sex, and situations so intermixed that nobody can sort out which is which…” Robert Heinlein

    I’ve experienced the first 2 relationships. For me (because life is at its core an individual experience) sex without love is tedious and boring, when its not just plain painful. Love without sex is either complete and satisfying in and of itself or achingly inadequate. Love and sex are both connections. Sex at its best is a physical manifestation of an emotional and spiritual connection.

    My guess is part of your need for those words is that you want to make sure your connection with your partner is genuine, or deeper than just physical.

    More times than I can count in life, people have told me they love me without meaning it, because “it seemed like the right thing to say,” or “I didn’t want to hurt your feelings”

    Every time you’ve said it, I know deep down in my core you mean it. That is what makes you one of the very few women worth my money, time, effort and energy.

    I love you :)

    • Thank you SAFL :D

      The funny thing is, sometimes the fantasy starts with “tell me you love me, even if you don’t mean it…” It’s so curious to me.

      When anyone tells me they love me, I assume my own definition of love, that it has no commitment beyond wishing for the best for me in that moment. AMD yet, it evokes such joy for me. :) Greedy greedy Galiana.

      • Yeah no I get that, there’s one girl I used to do that with, and because I wanted her to love me the narcotic effect was intense, but “I love you” is known to be a complete lie…it feels like the worst sort of betrayal to me.

        I totally agree with your definition of love (Which can be found on your “Where to Start” page) because there are many flavors and intensities of love. But all true love starts from wanting good and happy things for the beloved.

  2. Gali… hey girl! I miss you (sniff). I hoe pto catch up soon, but it seems we’re never on at the same time. I hope all is well… .and yes, I live vicariously through your blog! kisses

    • Hey 2handman – It’s good to hear from you, darlin! I know, the times when you’re available are exactly the times when my dogs are most insane :( I had a lot more flexibility when we were in Austin. kisses back atcha!

  3. Hey!!! I just linked you in my post today and glancing over the blog I saw this post. Fascinating! Now I know why you picked the one you did in the choices I offered you. I want to explore “love” more in depth. A lot of experiences online, and off of course, navigating around this word.

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