My rather tragic sexual history is peppered with me being not-so-nice with a very specific purpose: topping tops. Act masculine, act as though I want him, act like we'll have hot sex except damn, he's a top too. Hmmm... maybe you'd like to try me topping? I'm not big so it's a good way to try it out. I promise I'll be gentle and go slow.
It's a complete power trip and a carefully laid snare. I get guys who are tops and flip them. I like the challenge and the feeling of getting a guy who is ordinarily a top to bottom. I work it right, rub their prostate with my cock and I can can usually get them to love it.
That's part of my sexual history of which I am not proud. I was so terrified, for various reasons, of being submissive that I always topped. I still haven't bottomed beyond a few attempts which failed.
It's remarkable what fear drives us to.
Fear or acknowledgment of your limits, Jason?
I''m unclear that there even is such a thing as "evil motives" when it comes to getting the sex you want from the person you want it from (barring honesty about one's health).
I once knew a married couple who'd been together forever, had four kids (all girls, now teenagers...yikes!), rode through many bumps and ups-and-downs. They were both adamant about how they kept the passion in their sexlife: by manipulating the other. And they both insisted that their best sex was when one was positively livid with the other, calling it a "grudgefuck" or even a "hatefuck".
He was also very frank about his wife's attraction to porn (of all varieties), saying that he didn't mind it in the least. "I don't care how you come to the table," he'd say, "as long as you're hungry."
None of my casual hook-ups cares to know the real me; they just want a good fucking (and vice-versa). How could anything as banal as my daily life or my private reflections possibly enhance the experience?