On having great sex, and on not being a sexual psychopath

Being single and free to do whatever I want has been the most liberating experience of my young life so far. I love having the freedom, ability, and power to do whatever I want whenever I want.

I used to think that sex was meaningful, but life was a lot harder that way. Since I realized there’s nothing inherently special about it, things have gotten way easier. And I mean that in a positive way, not a tragic one. I think that any two consenting adults who are attracted to each other and want to bang should just go ahead and bang. There’s no reason not to. It doesn’t have to be complicated. Just do what you want to do, and you’ll be happier for it. You don’t need to worry about the meaning behind it. Just have fun. Just experience it.

There’s a lot of great sex to be had, and being with new and different people is a learning experience. Possibly the most important aspect to good sex, I’ve come to realize–even more than getting roughed up and thrown around–is prolonged, continuous eye contact. It’s all the difference. If you’re not gazing into someone’s eyes while fucking them, you might as well just be masturbating. Without looking someone in the face, it’s completely impersonal. Don’t get me wrong, I still love doggy style, but it’s gotta be balanced out. The connection that you form with someone is so much stronger when you really look at them–into them, even–while having sex. Plus, seeing their reactions is such a major turn on. Mmm. Nothing like watching the intensity in a man’s face as he comes.

Because of the recent shooting rampage committed by a sex-deprived misogynist, I’ve been thinking about sex and rejection and the extreme, negative effects that deprivation of a healthy sex life can have. As much as it horrifies me what this guy did, I pity him too, because I can empathize with the feeling of complete rejection. I’ve been rejected before, over and over, and it sucks every time. It never totally just rolls off the back. At best, it ruins my day. At worst, it breaks my heart and permanently damages me. But it never makes me hate the guy, because it’s not his fault. It’s not his fault he doesn’t want me. He just doesn’t. The difference between this killer and me–and all rational people–is that I realize the men who reject me never owed me anything. It’s me, not them. They aren’t the problem. They just aren’t interested. It happens.

In a world full of sexy people having amazing sex, of course it’s frustrating and tragic to be denied that. Sex is really important, and I think people should be freer with it. Maybe if we lighten up, communicate better, and explore more, we’ll all be more satisfied and have an easier time navigating our unique and different sex lives.

 

[Edited to add: By no means am I trying to imply that women should have given sex more freely to prevent this recent tragedy.  What I mean is that being open and communicative about the sex we are and aren’t having, what we are and aren’t enjoying, would most likely be beneficial to everyone, including people with sex-related issues.  We can all learn and grow from each other’s experiences, troubles, and triumphs.  That said, a misogynist is still a misogynist.]

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