“The act”
“Consummation”
“Home run”
“Fucking”
All of the language describing penis-in-vagina intercourse suggests that it is the point.
For many, for most, it is.
For me, it’s not.
Although sex is something I think about a lot (look at this fucking blog, for Christ’s sake), what I think about when I think about sex isn’t typically the act of penis-in-vagina intercourse. Sometimes, it’s oral sex; sometimes, it’s just touching, or rubbing. Most often, it’s even less physical, less bodily: it’s about power, about submission, about a certain set of interactions between two (or more) people’s desires that results in a shared sense of vitality that centers in, but is not confined to, our genitals. And our brains. At the same time.
My Tumblr reflects my notions of sex: when I think about sex, what I see, what I imagine, is what you see there. Sex, for me, is revelation, mystery, slowness, indulgence, compliance, acquiescence, persuasion, seduction.
It’s aching, longing, granting, teasing, tantalizing, touching, feeling, sliding, pressing, rubbing, showing, hiding, imagining, pretending, discovering, uncovering, transforming.
Conceiving of sex as fucking reduces it to penetration, ejaculation, decoration, vanquishment – finite moments.
For me, sex is an infinitude.
Fucking is an act – it has a beginning, a middle, and, inevitably, an end. The porn notion of sex inevitably is driven by, toward, that end. The money shot.
In life, many of my sexual encounters have been about movie-length. A typical porn movie features four, or five, or six sex “scenes” – scenes inevitably end with ejaculation – my typical sexual encounter features one. MAYbe two. (Granted: a typical porn movie features multiple male actors.)
But my ideal porn movie would indulge this languor, would be hours long, but would focus not on the orgasm, the period (or maybe, more aptly, the triple exclamation point) at the end of the sentence.
My ideal porn movie – not coincidentally, my ideal sexual encounter – is the sentence itself: the gradual process by which consent is sought, granted, obtained. The progression from curiosity to willingness, from willingness to intent. From visible to available, from available to possessed. The unbuttoning of the shirt, the stiffening of the cock, the moistening of the cunt. The pressing of the flesh, the meeting of the tongues – the first touch of hand to body, the first connection of flesh to flesh. The progression that begins far from the cock, the cunt, but moves (quickly? slowly?) there.
The tongue swirling, the fingers stroking, the bodies pressing. All this typically is lost, for me, in 99.99% of porn, and, from what I gather, in 99.99% of sex itself.
A reader wrote, in response to my recent post on nudity, that “sometimes, something more raw presents itself. And it’s difficult to control that urge.” Applied here: sometimes, a raw fuck is what’s hottest.
To which I say, yeah, sure. But I see that all the time. Give me what I want.
To me, sex is more than just fucking. It has a broader meaning. It includes activities outside the bedroom, such as how 2 person relate to each other, how a man or a woman does to make own self more appealing and attractive to opposite sex and how to maintain sexual health. Because there can be no sex without health. So, you can say my blog is sex-related but not just fucking alone.