If for no other reason than my absolute and total resolution that my current unemployed/renting from the parents situation must and shall be resolved before winter, I am growing eagerly if cautiously optimistic about returning to, well, my life, to be honest, but specifically my home city, my own accommodations, my career, and…not least…my sexuality. Well, by “sexuality” I mean state of being conducive to a (relative) freedom to experience and explore my sexuality as I choose (as long as I don’t sabotage the effort with some brand of unwitting psychological terrorism, or obtain another abusive “partner” who will gladly do it for me). Naturally this brings about a certain amount of reflection on times past and mistakes made and lessons to have learned, and looking back now I just see all of the times I’ve let something get in the way of the sexual freedom I so desire that didn’t need to be there at all, and I will need to remind myself of this as I go forward so I make sure not to let more opportunity pass me by. Life’s too short. I’ve spent the last year or maybe two batting every little detail around philosophically, ethically, and so forth and have expended enormous effort to assure myself that the things I want are okay to want, and pursue. I don’t need to do it any more, and I have to remember not to let anyone make me feel like I do (especially myself). I’ve done all the work, and it wasn’t easy…now I have to remember to actually reap the benefits instead of doing the same work over again and again.
See, even now! I wanted (want) to write about something deeply hot and sexual and slutty and so forth yet I wouldn’t even allow myself to get into it without first semi-consciously laying down a deeply-thought philosophical defense. As if the people who give me shit about all this stuff actually bother to care whether the judgment they lay on me is justified before hopping inside the next life-in-shambles toxic narcissist/sociopath/addict/poser they see. (Yikes, I hate when that part of me comes out.) I’m going to take a lesson from my experience with my grooming decisions a few years ago. A few years back I was introduced to an excellent method of body hair removal and discovered that it had a massive positive impact on my body image, comfort and self-esteem – so much so that for one of the first times in my sexual life I decided? Realized? Enforced? that in this particular matter, my preference for my own body superseded anyone else’s preferences or opinions on how I groom.
The interesting thing is, I soon discovered (somewhat to my surprise, although in hindsight not so much) that a lot of those things people talk about not being into (or, more often, ridicule and/or admonish) in online profiles or casual conversation actually end up not being quite as unequivocal as they often make them out to be. I can honestly say not one single man I’ve been with in the past few years has ever complained about or objected to the fact that I (generally) have no body hair between my thighs and my neck. Some have especially enjoyed it, a few of them having never realized it before. I have once or twice been hit up by gentlemen whose profiles decried the lacking of pubic hair to some degree and have been able to enjoy the satisfaction of responding with something along the lines of “Thank you/Very hot/Sounds nice, but unfortunately I have no pubic hair and that apparently doesn’t work for you. Good luck though!” (which is more satisfying the more enthusiastic their initial message), and sometimes those men decide the “amazing cunt” they were just clamoring over outweighs the hairless crotch and continue the chase, while others slink off either from embarrassment or because they really are so shallow that a lack of pubic hair simply isn’t acceptable, and those guys are lame and don’t deserve to enjoy my hole or my time. But on the whole, by deciding up front that I’d made my decision and that my decision was sovereign and non-negotiable, by and large the “issue” ceased to be an “issue” at all. There have been a few times in my life that I’ve realized that if I don’t have a problem with something about myself, it’s very hard for anyone else to have a problem with said something, or at least for their problem with it to make any difference to me.
There is one more step I can take to alleviate these kinds of problems in general in my life, and that is to start gravitating toward the right people, those who treat me with respect and who legitimately do find me attractive, my sexuality arousing, and so forth, and away from those who do not, for one reason or another, appreciate who I am or what I have to offer – everyone has scores of both types in his life, the trick is to recognize that you have both in abundance, identify who is whom, and, at least once you’ve taken the time to discover and become the person you wish to become, spend your time/open your cunt to the folks who already are down with everything you are just the way you are. I bet there are plenty of guys like that out there reading this who simply can’t believe that I find many people out there who don’t appreciate and wish to tear down who I am and what I’m into, but anyone who’s met me for more than five or ten minutes can see how severe are the scars from the many I’ve encountered who are just that. And it sucks! Jesus, I wish people would just stop and think before uttering some judgmental zinger they’ll have forgotten about within an hour and realize just how much those little things can seriously fuck a good person up for life. Take a second to ponder the possibility that just because you aren’t personally keen on a certain thing does not necessarily mean that therefore said thing is universally despicable and that those who happen to feel differently are lesser people than you. Who died and made you king of anything?
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my sexual lifetime, it’s that different people like all different things, and to every person, action, idea, or characteristic, there is at least someone who thinks “that is fucking HOT.” I’m not into everything in the world – far from it! But when someone hits me up and asks me about my feelings on, say, scat (which, because I have an especially sensitive and dominant sense of smell, is something that doesn’t work in practice for me, although I have nothing whatsoever against it in theory), I either demur as I usually do when approached by somebody in whom I am not interested (because in my experience, not getting a reply is much easier on the ego than a reply that states “I’m not into you,” although people differ on this question) or I very politely state the explanation I just gave here, in such a way as to make clear that my not being into it does not equate an objection to or judgment upon the action itself. I would rather someone who enjoys external piss play, for instance, have opportunity to find and connect with one of the countless other folks out there who enjoy piss play just as much and have an excellent time than subject them to a rendezvous with someone unable to appreciate/enjoy/participate in the type of sex the person is seeking; in that decision, I am the poorer choice for that person. You’d be AMAZED at how many people either have never stopped to consider that possibility or actually believe it is impossible, and those people get boring in bed REALLY quickly. Believe me. I’ve been with plenty.
So, anyway, once again what was meant to be a hot sexual post has turned into a discussion of sexual ethics and etiquette. But gosh darn it, somebody has to say these things, because while I always considered a lot of this stuff to be simple human decency programmed into nearly everybody alive, apparently this stuff is news to many people. Look, to be fair, maybe if homosexuality wasn’t under fire from all corners throughout the entirety of human civilization and we were allowed the freedom to develop ourselves and our sexuality like the remaining ninety percent of the population (not that their freedom is entire, either, but that’s another story) we gay men might manage to develop more of the relative openness and “oh, I’m NOT the only person in the world!” understanding of our straight brethren (who, again, are far from perfect…simply a few steps further along). But let’s be honest: after age eighteen (yes, that’s when you become an adult) there is simply no excuse for being a narcissistic asshole, even though there will be plenty of horny older men eager to make as many excuses as necessary to get the chance to fuck you, because they don’t care about you becoming a decent human being…they just want your ass. Which may be nice and all when you’re 21 and as a bonus you can use it as ammunition to emotionally destroy the 27 year old you call your ‘boyfriend’ (oops, did I get a little personal?), but eventually you wind up in rehab, or worse, you never even get that far. Was it worth it to be the hot pussy of the moment for a couple seconds?
Okay, I need to head out on my day, so I won’t be able to tie all these (rather pointed) thoughts neatly into one happy moral why-did-I-write-this-and-why-should-you-give-a-shit ending. But I’ll make it up to you by giving your dick a happy ending in my unbelievably hungry hole, if you like.
You think I’m joking?