I don't know how they do it in the Northern states or in Africa or the Middle East, but being a boy from the South, I was always taught to "look after the 'little ladies'".
I was taught to open doors for women, wait for their short legs to catch up, let them go first, and to walk closest to the road on the sidewalk. Maybe it's all silly. Some women don't like it. They feel they don't need special treatment, that it's a compromise of their equality. Some do. Some complain that men aren't gentleman anymore. If that's true, it's because some other woman gave us some abrupt and negative feedback or maybe they weren't raised with manners. Don't know. Don't care.
I do what I do because I like doing it. It makes me feel good to do something nice for someone, man or woman.
I was also taught never, ever under any circumstances, hit a woman. There are a few women who were apparently not taught the same thing in regards to men, but that's another blog.
Men who hit their women had something demonstrably wrong with them and needed to be pushed down a nice high flight of stairs. Those of us who are at heart chivalrous gentleman find it difficult to stomach the idea of some asshole going to town on his wife or girlfriend. We don't find it difficult to stomach the idea of taking a well chosen 2X4 to the asshole's skull just so he'll get a taste of what he's been dishing out, even though we know, it won't do any good.
So when a girl you're dating decides she'd like a good spanking and then expresses disappointment that you didn't give it to her hard enough, a boy like me is left with a dilemma.
On one hand (pardon the pun), I have an innate desire to give a girl what she wants, that which makes her squirmy wet and infinitely enjoyable.
On the other hand (ditto), it just feels flat out wrong to wallop that beautiful bottom no matter how much she shivers with delight.
The answer to this great dilemma, in case you're wondering, is that pleasure wins out, like it always does.
You learn to get past that little voice that says "don't you never hurt no girls", and to listen to that voice that says, "well, this is interesting".
I guess it all comes down to whatever turns you on. I know there are some things I could never do, things I might be able to get past or stomach, but don't want to.
Sexually, we're all a bunch of depraved little monkeys. Fact: 1 out of 1000 monkeys hope they fall from a tree and "accidentally" get a stick poked up their ass. Fact: that wasn't a fact at all, but something my stream of consciousness made up. It seems we're a lot less in control of our fetishes than we would like to be. I'm sure there are a lot of people who would gladly give up their desire to lick plastic shoes or to waft cigar smoke over their sphincter from a woman's black-lipsticked mouth, but then again, maybe not.
Maybe those little fetishes, those breast fixations and feet fixations, intensify sex, make it bigger and more powerful.
For the record: I gave her another spanking that left her bottom and my hand raw. She loved it. She shivered with delight, and as weird as I felt doing it, I enjoyed it, too, because, well, when a woman shivers with delight, delightful things happen to their breasts.
Aaron Diaz Hoal
(self confessed man-whore)