I’ve been crazy busy, and haven’t been able to write much lately. Also, there just hasn’t been much happening in my sex life of note. Well, that’s not quite true. There’s my recent evenings with Cricket and Tamora, each of which I hope to reprise soon enough. And, Isabel and Tamora seem to be on board with meeting, and sucking my cock together. But it seems it’ll be at least a little while before circumstances conspire to make that possible. Things with Sofia (the most intense, longest-standing, satisfying sexual relationship I’ve had other than, you know, marriage) have been… complicated… but we seem to be reaching a new equilibrium. V and I had a brief flirtation, but circumstances intervened and our flirtation came to a screeching halt. It will, I trust, resume. But not for a bit. A new hottie just sent me her orgasm – one I’ll share with you shortly. It’s scorchingly hot. And I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.
But not a lot of writing.
Just a couple of things I’ve been thinking about:
Anger: I think (I know) I carry around a fair amount of rage that I don’t express, don’t even consciously feel much of the time. I tend to just bottle it up and carry it in my muscles. In my calves, in my shoulders. This anger is, I think/suspect, disproportionately directed at women, in ways that I protect myself, and them, pretty comprehensively from.
Empathy: I feel empathy almost preternaturally. My impulse always is toward empathy. For everyone. For Bill Cosby. For Dzhokhar Tsarnaev. For Rick Perry (!). It’s like a reflex in me, one I can’t suppress. And/but, I find myself particularly drawn, and empathetic toward, those who utterly lack empathy. (See above.) WTF?
Frequency vs. duration: why is it that I’d rather a four-hour session of sex in which I come once than a four-hour session in which I come twice, or three times, or seven times? Why do I insist on making the orgasm the end of a sexual interaction. (Mostly. Not always.)
Sex work: There’s a new book, Paid For, by Rachel Moran. I haven’t read it. I won’t read it. But I read this review of it in the Times, and it just… made me angry. Not the review. The review seemed spot on. But the book. Why do people think it’s ok to generalize from their experience? Rachel Moran is a woman who began sex work as a teen, and, after a number of years, reached some conclusions about it – notably, that it’s not possible for any woman to engage in sex work in a manner that is consensual, freely chosen, and that all sex work = sex trafficking. Obviously, as a man who – at least consciously – really likes women, and who paid a lot of them for sex, it’s important to me to believe that those transactions (ideally all of them, but at a minimum, the vast majority of them) were indeed consensual. And/but, while it’s important to my own self-concept to believe that, I also don’t understand the turn of mind which says, “Because I didn’t choose freely, no one possibly could.” So. Is it possible to be a “happy hooker”? Certainly, a number of women, friends and otherwise, have told me so. What proportion do they represent of the total sex working population? I don’t know. I can’t know. But I know this: the stigma associated with sex work can’t possibly be good for the women doing it.
Sexuality: I recently have been thinking about how the Kinsey scale might be flawed. There are men, for example, who think of themselves as straight, whose primary sexual and emotional relationships are with women, but who nonetheless just love sucking cock. Does this make them bisexual? Somewhere further right on the Kinsey scale? Or is the linearity of that spectrum misleading? Might we have two spectrums (spectra), one with respect to each (binary) gender? And what of non-binary gender? Someone smarter than I am should reconceptualize all this.
Polyamory: Never mind the linguistic incoherence of the term (“poly” is Greek; “amory” is Latin), what of people who claim not simply that they are pursuing a polyamorous existence, but that they are, in an essential way, polyamorous? Is “poly” an adjective describing individuals or relationships? Or both? Is poly an orientation, as some claim? Or is it an organizational choice for relationships?
Swinging: I’m a guy who’s spent my share of time in swingers’ clubs. But I don’t get it. I mean, I get voyeurism. I get exhibitionism. And I get an infinite desire for sexual connection with others. But I don’t get compressing that connection all the way down to an instant, to simple sex between naked bodies heretofore unknown. I’ve done it. It’s fine, I suppose. But I don’t really understand it. Not in the “it’s not for me” way, but in the “I don’t understand, conceptually, how it works” way.
Male bloggers: Why are there so damned few of us? I don’t get it. The interwebs are filled with smart, thoughtful, sexy women writing about sex – the sex they have, the thoughts they have about sex, and so on. (They’re also filled with boring, banal women writing about sex.) But there just aren’t very many men writing about sex. WHY NOT? Related: why are women so much less interested in reading men’s blogs than women’s blogs? In the few conversations I’ve had with female bloggers about stats, I’ve been just blown away by how much bigger their audience is than mine. Some of this, surely, is horn-dog men just desperately seeking porn, and the fantasy of fucking a woman. But not all of it. Here’s an example: look at the comments sections of any of the blogs on my blogroll, or any other woman’s sex blog, and you’ll see so much more activity than here, on mine. I don’t believe that this is simply because my blog sucks, or is forbidding, or whatever. The numbers, the scale of magnitude of the difference, suggests to me that something else is going on. And I don’t understand it.
There. Just a few thoughts. More (always) to come.