The thing about a slut period is that not only do you learn about people at their most primal and selfish, but you realize that the quick, easy and anonymous sex gets tired very fast. I know I can't speak for most people, but going into your slut period one tends to think that they will live the rest of their lives in sexual bliss without emotional bullshit.
I did.
When I was a little boy - 4 to 6 years old - sex was something that I didn't know about, but knew that humping a little neighborhood girl in the backyard felt good. When I learned about sex on the streets of Washington, D.C. there seemed to be a nasty air to it. That nasty reputation that I felt sex had was confirmed with the popularity of pornography in the 70s and the number of shops in and around downtown and listening to my older brother and cousins joke about sex. You can probably top that off with my reading Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex just as I was coming of age and discovering masturbation. And it probably didn't help matters much when my brother found out I was masturbating that he called me scum...and, to be honest, that did not take long to recover from when I found out just how normal playing with myself was.
Once I had come out and started to have a few more sexual encounters, I found that sex was this thing that gay men were supposed to do...you know, to throw it in straight people's faces and shit like that. Sex was this thing that came easily to handsome white boys while black boys were only there for the satisfaction of slimy older men from Beverly Hills or guys who were into black men and used them as sex toys. I would listen to some of my friends speak about their sexual experiences - both casual and romantic - and would be in awe. It's not that I did not want a healthy sex life, it was just hard to find...with or without confidence. I think that maybe I did not pay enough attention to my surroundings because people swore up and down that I should be having the time of my life...that I probably was having the time of my life. However, what I was doing was working, going to movies, reading books, spending time with friends, writing and jerking off. I'm pretty sure that there were some guys that I could have picked up and had great sex with, but I felt that I was already familiar with the outcome of any attempt of seduction: someone that I wanted - that made my dick hard - would usually end with a rejection or someone that I was comfortable enough with would turn the situation into some robotic porn scenario or someone that I thought was cool and who was into 'our kind' would usually bring out the loin cloth and ask for a Mandingo impression.
Then, I fell in love with someone. We became boyfriends. And he could not have sex with me. Then, an old crush and I started to see each other and I would get nervous and anxious before a sexual encounter. After that, my ex who couldn't have sex with me the first time decided that he was in love with me after we had become best friends and I discovered what incest must feel like.
Somewhere in there, I had a slut period and I had a decent amount of nice sexual encounters. They were necessary, anonymous, quick and my life was moving way too fast for me to feel any remorse for it. And it got old quick.
Soon enough, I got on the internet. I did not really have much of a slut period but I did meet some real interesting guys and had a few really nice sexual encounters. Mostly, I think it was all new to us...that we didn't have to go to the bars to cruise or go to a sex club and hunt. It was chatting online, being upfront about what we each wanted and meeting up. The encounters were few and far in between, but they were memorable and left a satisfied smile.
It was on the internet that I hooked up with this one guy and not only did we become fuck buddies but friends as well. We were around the same age and he was still in the closet. However, our sex life was exploratory, honest, hot, nasty, romantic (once or twice), fun and real. The relationship probably would have lasted longer, but my friends thought that I was in love and the idea of being thought of as a gay lover kind of freaked him out. We are still friends to this day, and I cherish every moment we had spent together. It seemed that I discovered all of the wonderful things I had heard about having a great sex life. It was pretty fucking amazing to be on the same wavelength as someone whom you both wanted to explore each other's sexuality as well as your own. And, yeah, I do wish I could find something like that again...
I am not going to mention anything about after my move to Seattle, I think I've mentioned more about that than needs to be further said with the exception of my first month or two as a resident of the Emerald City. I was getting some good - mostly at the bathhouse, I admit. But those intimate encounters I had outside of the bathhouse were amazing examples of two guys getting together and just having a good time. We were hot and honest. The last 'relationship' I had in Seattle was basically sexless. We dated for about eight weeks and he wouldn't even sit on my bed. And a few sexual encounters I did have were not good ones. Nice, but...
After I moved back to California, I became something of a ho. Intimate encounters have not come my way, so I have to admit that the sex I've been having have all been casual. I had started to get nervous and anxious again about intimate encounters. I want them. I crave them. However, I return to where I had been once in my life where I know that intimate encounters are just something that I find myself eager to explore again, but cemented in the reality that it's just a fairy tale. My anxiety stems from being with partners who's focus are always on themselves, their needs, their expectations and their orgasms.
My slut period is starting to fade. I'm becoming bored. I could go out and seek a decent one-night stand or maybe a fuck buddy if I'm lucky (do you realize that fuck buddies are harder to come by than boyfriends??). I just feel exhausted now. Cheap, unemotional sex comes easy but with a price. An intimate encounter (dinner, movie and a good fuck) seems harder, and the price list is varied.
Sex. So involving and so natural and so beautiful and so free - all that, no matter what level of sexuality your practice. I pass no judgment because I think everyone should get a lot of fun out of their life. But it makes me think sometimes...
Maybe I've become too uptight. Maybe I am a bit too critical. Maybe I just demand something that is not written in the stars for me. But, then again, it's probably not written in the stars for me because I am supposed to write about it.
I did.
When I was a little boy - 4 to 6 years old - sex was something that I didn't know about, but knew that humping a little neighborhood girl in the backyard felt good. When I learned about sex on the streets of Washington, D.C. there seemed to be a nasty air to it. That nasty reputation that I felt sex had was confirmed with the popularity of pornography in the 70s and the number of shops in and around downtown and listening to my older brother and cousins joke about sex. You can probably top that off with my reading Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex just as I was coming of age and discovering masturbation. And it probably didn't help matters much when my brother found out I was masturbating that he called me scum...and, to be honest, that did not take long to recover from when I found out just how normal playing with myself was.
Once I had come out and started to have a few more sexual encounters, I found that sex was this thing that gay men were supposed to do...you know, to throw it in straight people's faces and shit like that. Sex was this thing that came easily to handsome white boys while black boys were only there for the satisfaction of slimy older men from Beverly Hills or guys who were into black men and used them as sex toys. I would listen to some of my friends speak about their sexual experiences - both casual and romantic - and would be in awe. It's not that I did not want a healthy sex life, it was just hard to find...with or without confidence. I think that maybe I did not pay enough attention to my surroundings because people swore up and down that I should be having the time of my life...that I probably was having the time of my life. However, what I was doing was working, going to movies, reading books, spending time with friends, writing and jerking off. I'm pretty sure that there were some guys that I could have picked up and had great sex with, but I felt that I was already familiar with the outcome of any attempt of seduction: someone that I wanted - that made my dick hard - would usually end with a rejection or someone that I was comfortable enough with would turn the situation into some robotic porn scenario or someone that I thought was cool and who was into 'our kind' would usually bring out the loin cloth and ask for a Mandingo impression.
Then, I fell in love with someone. We became boyfriends. And he could not have sex with me. Then, an old crush and I started to see each other and I would get nervous and anxious before a sexual encounter. After that, my ex who couldn't have sex with me the first time decided that he was in love with me after we had become best friends and I discovered what incest must feel like.
Somewhere in there, I had a slut period and I had a decent amount of nice sexual encounters. They were necessary, anonymous, quick and my life was moving way too fast for me to feel any remorse for it. And it got old quick.
Soon enough, I got on the internet. I did not really have much of a slut period but I did meet some real interesting guys and had a few really nice sexual encounters. Mostly, I think it was all new to us...that we didn't have to go to the bars to cruise or go to a sex club and hunt. It was chatting online, being upfront about what we each wanted and meeting up. The encounters were few and far in between, but they were memorable and left a satisfied smile.
It was on the internet that I hooked up with this one guy and not only did we become fuck buddies but friends as well. We were around the same age and he was still in the closet. However, our sex life was exploratory, honest, hot, nasty, romantic (once or twice), fun and real. The relationship probably would have lasted longer, but my friends thought that I was in love and the idea of being thought of as a gay lover kind of freaked him out. We are still friends to this day, and I cherish every moment we had spent together. It seemed that I discovered all of the wonderful things I had heard about having a great sex life. It was pretty fucking amazing to be on the same wavelength as someone whom you both wanted to explore each other's sexuality as well as your own. And, yeah, I do wish I could find something like that again...
I am not going to mention anything about after my move to Seattle, I think I've mentioned more about that than needs to be further said with the exception of my first month or two as a resident of the Emerald City. I was getting some good - mostly at the bathhouse, I admit. But those intimate encounters I had outside of the bathhouse were amazing examples of two guys getting together and just having a good time. We were hot and honest. The last 'relationship' I had in Seattle was basically sexless. We dated for about eight weeks and he wouldn't even sit on my bed. And a few sexual encounters I did have were not good ones. Nice, but...
After I moved back to California, I became something of a ho. Intimate encounters have not come my way, so I have to admit that the sex I've been having have all been casual. I had started to get nervous and anxious again about intimate encounters. I want them. I crave them. However, I return to where I had been once in my life where I know that intimate encounters are just something that I find myself eager to explore again, but cemented in the reality that it's just a fairy tale. My anxiety stems from being with partners who's focus are always on themselves, their needs, their expectations and their orgasms.
My slut period is starting to fade. I'm becoming bored. I could go out and seek a decent one-night stand or maybe a fuck buddy if I'm lucky (do you realize that fuck buddies are harder to come by than boyfriends??). I just feel exhausted now. Cheap, unemotional sex comes easy but with a price. An intimate encounter (dinner, movie and a good fuck) seems harder, and the price list is varied.
Sex. So involving and so natural and so beautiful and so free - all that, no matter what level of sexuality your practice. I pass no judgment because I think everyone should get a lot of fun out of their life. But it makes me think sometimes...
Maybe I've become too uptight. Maybe I am a bit too critical. Maybe I just demand something that is not written in the stars for me. But, then again, it's probably not written in the stars for me because I am supposed to write about it.
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