Wednesday, September 17, 2008

Wake Up, Wake Up, 'Cause You Do It Right

Can I just tell you how excited I am about my leg hair? Have I shared with you that I was an avid, committed, shaver for 30 years; that I found hair on my body repulsive, that I enjoyed shaving my legs? I have always understood, in fact, my enjoyment of the leg shave was I always wanted to shave my face and this was the closest I was going to get. It was satisfying beyond belief. Now that I’ve cultivated leg hair, I cannot even contemplate shaving it off. Having seal-skin smooth lady legs gives me the shudders. But before, BT*, hair was anathema. Foul even.

It’s nice not having to think about that before I go on a date or something. It wasn’t a big deal, but I do recall pointedly shaving the legs for at least 3 months into the dating. Now I’ve got to watch the chin whisks. I went out the other day and on my way home checked myself in the car mirror. Raggedy-ass chin. There’s nothing like 30 random 1/16th inch pubes on your otherwise super-smooth face. Super hot is what that is.

Women are afraid of men. There, I said it. It’s often a really vague, not-appropriate-to-real-time fear. My most recent experiences in the dating arena reminded me that the sunny sky of woman always harbors an occluding little thunderhead, and it’s usually some sort of sexual fear or shame. Women experience sexual attraction; they want to make the sexy times. But beware, Gentlespoons: they fear it too. Hence the timeless tale of the cocktease.

Most of the women I’ve dated aren’t going for Tease, for Temptress, at least not entirely. They’re afraid to have the sex. I know for me this began around the time I was seeking to lose my virginity. I would get incredibly aroused by our junior fumblings but the digital penetration was always uncomfortable. The idea of surrendering to a boy’s actual cock was really scary. Once you’re over that part, which can take years, you’ve still got to deal with a) now that I’m finally comfortable with it in the vagina, you want to put it where? and b) sometimes sex with other people doesn’t feel good. It feels rough and hurty. Thus is the tender, sensitive nature of the clitoris. So one goes through this arc of getting deliciously turned on making out, rubbing parts, whatever, but then s/he puts her/his something down there in earnest and IT HURTS.

I speculate that while men certainly can have this experience, they have it with far less frequency. I also recall my young male friends sharing their own fears of penetration; they just weren’t around pain. It was more about maintaining rigidity, actually getting in there. I had a trick who would always go soft at The Moment. It was emotional. He was a sex addict and this was his Achilles heel.

Nonetheless, while that’s potent (!), it’s not PAIN.

I’ve also heard women say “I’m afraid once we have sex, you’ll leave,” a concept which always baffles me. I’m like “you’re putting out and you think I’ll LEAVE?” But I know guys do that; they get it and git, those guys that are purely interested in conquest anyway. I’m not that guy. I can’t get it up for someone I don’t care about. I can’t get it up for just anybody either. It’s a complex package, arousal, and there are pieces of it that are as ancient and mysterious as the pyramids, which are actually old but no longer very mysterious since we’ve broken down the engineering. Arousal’s like that. If you ever watch porn (homework assignment!) you can experience first hand your astonishment at what actually gets you off. Tell me you’ve never watched a rape scene in a movie and gotten turned on, much to your horror and dismay. Go watch some midget porn, something with an old man, a gangbang, heterosexual sex, homosexual sex – whatever you intellectually find repellent – and see what happens.

Also, sex is an investment. For this guy, and for many women, it means we’ll be getting deeper (yes, deeper) into this thing we’re doing. I don’t expect it to be fantastic right away. It takes time to know someone, intellectually, emotionally, and in bed. If it is fantastic, well great! But there’s still learning to do.

Here’s my tranny conundrum.** When I date someone meaningful to me, they often want to “take it slow.” For me, that’s three dates. For chicks, that could be three months. Ladies, it’s okay. Let’s take our sweet time, but understand: your fears aren’t about me. And once you go tranny, well you fill in the blank. What I’m saying to you is I understand your fear, Mama. Baby, it’s okay, we’ll take our time, you’re awesome. I don’t want to hurt you; I really want to know you as a person. So get out of those fucking jeans already.

*before Testosterone, remember?

**no, that’s not what “we” call it.

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