Sex and Intimacy

In commenting on a post about my recent sexcapades, a reader said that he sensed a certain loneliness and emptiness in my descriptions of dick and ass. Well, Reader, you’re right. Some of us, maybe many of us – and that includes str8’s – are using sex as a replacement for intimacy.

I know. I count myself among them.

Deep down, though, we know they’re not the same.

Sure, there are the sex addicts who crave the endless attention and are only interested in their personal body count, and the asocial (if there is such a word) who look on guys as necessary evils who just happen to carry the appendages or orifices they desire. For them, the more anonymous the sex, the bigger the turn-on.

Take the 6 foot 2 muscular Latin with the soap opera looks who dragged me into a booth at Slammers, our sex club, dropped his draws, stuck his ass next to my naked crotch and expected me to be instantly hard and fuck him. No foreplay, no conversation, nothing. When I declined, HE – Mr. Big Butch – called ME the pussy.

But then there are those of us who have been burnt in relationships where one loved more than the other, who are tired of the emotional roller coaster ride relationships can bring, or who have a significant other who no longer gives us what we need in the way of sex and intimacy but who we stay with for other practical reasons – co-mingled lives, financial realties, or just the desire not to be alone. Yet our need for intimacy remains and so we turn to sex to compensate, since sex, in the end, is so much easier to find. The more men we have sex with, the more we’re loved, right?

I’m also convinced guys, particularly younger guys, use coke and meth during sex to heighten the experience and put them in some state of euphoria so that the guy they just met – and who they may not even be strongly physically attracted to – suddenly becomes the love of their life.

That is, until the drugs wear off.

The same holds true with the loneliness I sense in all these guys on the cyber hook up sites that hit me up to either fantasize about having sex, sex laced with words of endearment, sex that conveniently will never happen because thousands of miles separate us, or who just want to shoot the breeze with a fellow brother and feel some kind of connection. And not just guys in the boonies where you would expect it but also guys in some of the largest urban gay meccas where men are as plentiful as cockroaches, who ironically, either by choice or by default, are as isolated as some farmboy in the middle of Nebraska. We all know technology has killed most bars (and even most bath houses) as cruising grounds where you could look the guy in the eye before you grabbed his crotch. Just count the number of men the next time you’re out who are on their smartphones GPS’ing their latest hottie who is sitting on a toilet seat ten and a half yards away. Instead of catching the eye of the guy across the way who wants them. And who maybe, just maybe could change their lives and be more than just a hard dick.

Could it be all that soulful hugging we see in the bars when buddies get together, whether or not sex has been or is in the picture,  could all this genuine camaraderie be their way of expressing a kind of man-to-man intimacy they don’t experience much anymore between the sheets?

And yes, too many of us sit alone in the dark by our laptops, content to conduct our social and sexual lives on a screen, where fantasy is better than reality because we can mold our fantasies into just about anything we want, create personas that make us more desirable than we could ever be in life, or have 10 message sexual encounters which are not always all about sucking and fucking but are often intertwined with virtual intimacy. Camming with a guy in Dubai who asks you if you’re a good kisser somehow makes you feel human even if all he and you are are 0’s and 1’s

Maybe it’s a sign of the times, a fall-out of living in such a modern age, that true intimacy between two human beings has been lost when we need it the most.

For me some of the most satisfying in-the-flesh sexual experiences I’ve had have had little to do with hard cocks and hairy butts.  It’s when the two of us, obviously turned on by one another’s physicality and masculinity, can just lie there silent in one another’s arms and forget for a brief moment the outside world exists.

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