Sunday, August 21, 2005

Sex and The Towel

For some reason, I decided to map some of my thoughts and feelings that travel along with the base physical arousal, climax, and resolution stages of sexuality. Sex is a really funny thing, partially because we pursue it relentlessly and engage in it voraciously. We definitely lose more than a modicum of control. But if you can get a little distance, or better yet, watch porn, you can see how absurd is seeking out and engaging in the act of physical love. That includes the faces and noises we make.

I don't have to apologize to any of my partners, as nothing personal or revealing is here. Although I do have to apologize to myself for being suck a jackass.

Well, here it be.

Stage 1: Arousal
At this point, nothing is disgusting and I'm open to any suggestions. Anything super-freaky will be considered. This is a time of great determination for me, as if I'm trying to build a bird-house with a gun to my head; I'm not sure what I'm doing, but I'm 100% sure that it is going to get done. If I held a strong desire to stick my head up my own ass, I'm sure that I could do it during this stage.

Arousal, and the play that goes with it, is supposed to lead up to the orgasm, and then the "resolution plateau." Only a fool would focus too heavily on the orgasm alone, and I'm fond of exploring. I'll leave it at that. With all the engorgement and blushing and heart-racing and mind-numbing desire, I'm most blind to the absurdity of sex during this phase. Afterwards, though, the arousal stage amuses me the most

At some point during this stage, I always say to my partner something like, "We should fuck more often!" This is usually taken as a joke, but I'm speaking in complete earnestness.

Stage 2: Climax
After a little bit or a lot of the first stage, it's time to get your partner off and then go for broke yourself. My background thought is always the same at this time...I get pissed at myself for being so fat. It seems a bit random, as I'm already getting it on and any timidity should have been left behind. And for the most part, it has. But simply put, I want to look like Brad Pitt when I fuck. Mr. Pitt could have any facial expression when he comes that he wants, but even if he looks and sounds ridiculous, who would complain?

If Angelina Jolie and Brad Pitt vomit and fart when they climax together they would still be sexy. It's just how I see it. Women have said that I'm cute, and two even said that I'm sexy (after they've had a drink or two). But I'm still fat, and I imagine that I look like a ball of Jello getting slapped with a yo-yo when I climax.

That's about all I want to share regarding that. When I come, I want to shout, "Look away, I'm hideous!"

It's important to make note of the brief moment of genuine, balanced happiness after orgasm. It exists nowhere else in life, except perhaps for when you don't have to wait very long for a table at a restaurant on a Friday night. And if the "apps" are good, all the better.

Stage 3: Resolution
Stage 3 involves a flood of thoughts and feelings...here is a quick inventory: The first is a need to find a towel, or "cum-rag." This is followed by an odd desire to be ANYWHERE else, like you just did something wrong. Finally, there is a frantic search for the remote control. Occasionally, regret is felt over having said or done something really embarrassing during the first two stages.

After sex, I once said, "Is there any hummus left?" Another time I asked, "We should have kids? Are you out of your fucking mind?" It's like waking up from a spell.

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