There is still a lot of stigma around sex.

I'm a rather open person sexually, in what I do, who I like, and what I talk about.

Never the less, I censure some of what I say or write, even talking to strangers on the internet, even on here now. Stigma is the reason I don't share this writing to all the people I would like to ; some of the censure is self-inflicted, but it always originates from forseen reactions of others.
Stigma is the reason I'm in cringy situations at the moment regarding my sexlife, which, funnily enough is my actual life as well. It's why I'm meeting people online, it's why I'm hooking up with guys from work and ending up, the next day, in a Tesco's car park, with moist car windows and a funny smell in my knickers the rest of the afternoon at work.

My desire-need-whatever for regular new encounters but my desire-need-whatever to keep them secret from my familly is what gets me into places that I'm not sure I'm at ease in. It's all exciting until he says "say NO to me once more you slut and I'll... !" and I remember how we didn't talk about safe words, how I had to remind him again, that of course he needs to wear a condom and how no one, NO ONE. knows where I am right now. That's when I realise that his hand grabbing my jaw and thrusting in my mouth could turn in an instant from a thrilling feeling of consented submission to something.. else. At that moment, all I can do is hope that he sees non-con fantasies as games to be played but that should never become reality. Non-con fantasies are a tight rope I often end up stumbling upon and realising too late I haven't got anything to hold onto and I'm trusting a stranger I met 38 hours before to remember that my stubborn little girl act is not only an act: when I say "I don't want to Daddy",  I mean it. At that moment, I'm hoping that he seing me say no to him turns him on enough that it sends him over the edge, towards this end of this episode. And I like that thought, because it genuinely turns me on, but I'm bordeline here.

This is where it all gets muddled up. This is where what's happening in my head is as foggy as the windows from our hot bodies.

And fuck am I aware that it's a dangerous thing to be saying all this, to be putting it out there, readable by any one who passes this street of the internet. BUT THATS WHAT I HATE: I HATE that it's dangerous me doing this, it shouldn't be. No more than wearing a short skirt is asking for it. I am not asking for it. I'm asking for the liberty to meet safe people in safe place and do no-longer-dangerous things with them and then to be able to talk about it to the people around me without feeling any shame about it.

I'm also angry at myself for liking these kind of things. In the same way I've had gay friends who were once angry about their homosexuality, I'm angry about my fierce heterosexuality.

Every day I question wether it's nature or nurture. I wonder daily wether I brought these my fucked up fantasies of submission to guys onto myself in my teens by getting into the wrong chatrooms late at night and being intrigued by seeing the wrong images. Did I bring it onto myself or is it society as a whole that makes it so much easier and part of the course of things, for me as a ciswoman to want to be dominated by men ? And, if I found an answer, what would I change ? I would still not be able to change those parts of me.

I try, strongly, to overcome my straightness and my kinks. I actively search for partners who are into BDSM, but, try very hard to instigate a conscious, poly and balanced relationship between me and them.
I felt a needle prick of shame, last saturday to be leaving the gay pride to go fuck a guy. And is my anger legitimate, when aimed at one of those parisien-subburb-queer-gatherings, where I felt in the wrong and out of place to be in a commited relationship with a man when, internally, I do have questions about my gender and my attractions and feel I don't conform and do identify as queer when I'm on my own googling my anguish. Not being attracted to the opposite gender is not frowned upon within queer communities. But, me not being attracted to my gender, what does that say about me ? In the same way I know being less attracted to people of colour is constructed, and is something I have to actively work on.

By engaging in these cringy car park activities am I perpetuating the myth that all women are sluts deep down, that when we say no, we mean yes. Am I not making enough effort to deconstruct the building blocks society has made me with?