Sexy>Sex
A scene in Baby Doll. Carroll Baker has the genteel fragility that no Tennesse Williams woman leaves home without. Eli Wallach is that irresistible fusion of gentleman and ladiesman. She sits on a double-swing with only room for a single. He asks to sit next to her. She agrees, looking away. He sits; the swing squeaks; he sort-of-smiles; everything seems like a sensual threat. She questions his forwardness but will not look at him. He leans in. She is distracted and doesn’t know why. He cannot get any closer, can he? She answers, but she is submerging in something thick and warm. “You make me feel kind of hysterical,” she lilts, feverish, immobile. “I do?” He marvels. This ecstatic incline, numb alertness, someone’s laying Icy Hot patches all over, all over…
Foreplay is preferred to intercourse. Tight Clothing is preferred to nudity. Movie Sex Scenes are preferred to pornography. It’s better to observe than experience. To learn than practice. To listen than share.
Don’t feed the animals. They’ll only want more. Sluts.
Clean>Dirty
Every time I’m about to really use a public toilet I wonder how many sexual partners the last user had. I wish I owned an RV. Then I’d have a private bathroom wherever I went. I mummify the seat with paper, then sit. So, I’m supposed to pee with this, and then put it in some woman, right where she pees? No, no, I’m supposed to pee with this, then put it in some man, right where he poops? No, no…
Unendurably revolting.
Stephen King is always saying adverbs are unnecessary. Then so am I, because I use them all the time (childish logic results in the quickest conclusion, why not use it? Just because I’m an adult…). I’ve never read one of his novels, only his book on writing – I must do these things to be ironic, even though I don’t realize it until after I’ve done them.
Ugly>Beautiful
Some of us don’t have the physical qualifications for sex. I don’t mean my former friend Jonnie, who was born a legitimate man but whose male-specific apparatus needed multiple operations just to mimic normality, though it still couldn’t truly function. I mean – when I get out of the shower, I dry off, put on deodorant, briefs, shirt, and then, only then, do I look in the mirror. The last time I saw myself naked, I almost took a personal day.
Even with the traditional practice of turning the lights off, there’s the possibility your partner could be hiding a flashlight under the pillow, or have a switch right next to the bed, or one of those reading lights and even though the latter would possibly only illuminate a nipple, all three would mean instantaneous and humiliating exposure.
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