The House that Jonathan Built
by Jonathan Quince
Saturday, February 19, 2005 14:41:03
In my house, I shall create a clothing-optional environment where sex is accepted. If you enter, you may see naked people and you may see fucking. There are no guarantees, of course; I may not necessarily provide a free show. But be forewarned, my would-be guests, and stay well away if you have any prudish tendencies.
I want a house that smells like sex! And when I want, I give aught of pity of mores of mere social dictate.
Of course, this liberalism shall also be of no small benefit to you. If you want to doff your clothes and get comfortable, be my guest! If you feel like engaging in any sexual activity, including masturbation, sex with other interested parties who may be present, or a ride on the household Sybian, go right ahead. Be unashamed; be uninhibited; just do what comes naturally. If you want to get frisky with the dog, do not hesitate; he’ll give you a good bite if he doesn’t like it. ;->
Really, home is supposed to be a place where you can be free. Why, in a private home, should the natural power of sex be bound by chains of prudishness? If I am in yours, I certainly shan’t begrudge you open display of your symbols of an enjoyable life; it’s as natural a part of the background as your houseplants or a painting hanging on the wall. And remember that unusual sex toys make good conversation pieces, too.
Your home is your domain, your castle, your private place; and if someone wants to enter it, they enter as your guest. Guests must be treated with hospitality and respect, of course; but they also must accept that they are entering a place that is not theirs. Your house abides by your rules, after all, and you should not change it for anybody.
If guests don’t like you for who you are, let them go fly kites. I’d say, “Fuck ’em”, but that would contradict the point: Don’t fuck ’em. That is, after all, what they’ll be missing.
Rant mode on, ladies and gentlemen. I’m in a quirky mood, and I was just thinking about the flip side of the issue: Why do people hide in their own homes? Two basic answers come to mind: Miniature-immature-persons and the value judgments of prudish visitors.
As to the former, I don’t usually have small children about (unless you want to bump our special parts together and make some new ones). So, at least for now, it really is not relevant to my situation. Your mileage may vary depending on your circumstances and life’s choices.
And in regards to other visitors, the principle is quite clear: Nobody is going to make me feel unwelcome in my own home! My home belongs to me, not to society-at-large and its ticklish sensibilities. I don’t care whether you are my grandmother or the pastor of the local church: If you don’t like the way I run my house, do not expect my hospitality. Period. The relationship between guest and host is a two-way street, and nobody has a right to an invitation.
I don’t like to hide who I am; and when it comes to personal living space, I am devilishly territorial. Really, sometimes I just don’t believe the lengths to which people will go to keep up a sheen of social acceptability.
As to the fear of shoving things in people’s faces, I don’t customarily take actions to shock people or show off that I am such a big shot. Really, I can be quite a bit too reserved at times. But in your own private home, what counts as “rubbing it in their faces” and what counts as just living your life naturally, the way you feel comfortable?
Well, end of rant. Off I go to build my own society. Anybody want to live in my dictatorship?
The above was originally posted as commentary on an essay at Vikki’s HerDesires. It has been edited for clarity and cohesiveness.