Showing posts with label Gay. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Gay. Show all posts

Friday, March 25, 2011

Boys Are Made Of Snips And Snails And Porn And Gay Tales.

Relationships are often hard enough contending with other women; when a girl gets mind-fucked and finds out that men are included in the mix, it's often enough to send anyone off her rocker. I remember finding an ex of mine on a gay website. He had been so manly, so masculine, so snide about homosexuals, so normal, so badly dressed, so straight. And now THIS. The love of musicals and ass-appreciation began to make more sense. I FRRRRREEEEAKED. First, about the deceit and wondering if he ever even found me attractive, and second, about the fact that now I knew that he had, or was looking to have, sex with other men I now REALLY needed to get tested for AIDS, considering I'd had unprotected sex with him. Long story short, I was healthy and clean, and it was better to find out post-relationship than during, but a friend brought an interesting, related question to me the other day that brought it all back up again: While snooping around, she uncovered a few random gay porn sites that her boyfriend had visited in the past. What if your (straight) boyfriend occasionally viewed gay porn while doing his internet porn thing?

Between the anonymous, impartial jury of myself, my Gender Comm. class, my best gay friend, and my straight best friend, we pieced this together:

1.) Sexuality is a flowing thing, and curiosity is natural.

This image is the Kinsey scale. It denotes the 6 main (seven, if you include being asexual, which I personally don't count as being sexual AT ALL,) different kinds sexuality. I waver somewhere between 1 and 2, depending on my mood, and if I'm in a relationship (straight, only ever been straight,) or not. I say a 1 or a 2 because of a few facts: I've kissed some of my female friends while playing high school games of Spin the Bottle and not wanted to kill myself directly after; I always am aware of my Sexception List, or where in rank a list of famous women I find stunning and would possibly after a few bottles of shared tequila and in the right mood lighting I may attempt to sleep with if I was feeling my most self-confident of my life, or had taken a shit-ton of E beforehand, but nonetheless, I know the women I'd volunteer to be sexual with; I watch lesbian porn on occasion, of my own validation (see below for more). Does this 2 rating mean I'm constantly checking women out? Yes...but only to see what she's wearing. Men are the only ones who I scope in a sexual nature. You could be the bro-y-est of the Bros and still find yourself rating as a 1 or a 2 because of the fact you can never keep your eyes to yourself in the men's locker room, or that one time after winning the homecoming game got too drunk and tried to confess your feelings to your team's tight end (pun intended)-- "No man, I really, REALLY love you!" while in reality, your high school sweetheart Jennifer who followed you to college and still cheers is your Tru Luv 4eva and the only person you want to be with. You, sir-- are you gay because you're a 2? No, you silly boy, you're straight-- not a 4, 5, or 6.

2.) Do you and he have regular sex, does he initiate, and is it passionate? These are all good signs if you answered "yes," to them, and he obviously finds you attractive. Bonus points? My gay friend pointed out that most secretly gay, closeted, or even man-leaning bisexual men have an EXTREMELY hard time enjoying giving a woman oral sex. (Hint: You can't fake enthusiasm.) If he likes and is eager and willing to go down undah, congratulations, because at most, he's bi or at least bi-curious. At best, he's still your straight boyfriend.

3.) As my "extremely blessed in the size department of her lovers" best friend pointed out, penis envy is real. For some men, there's just something about looking at a cock bigger than theirs that really just does something to them. Just like women can look at a really great rack in fascination, men can appreciate a nicer penis than theirs. We are an aesthetic society, after all.

4.) Porn is a fantasy land. What someone views in privacy is often very different than what they want in their own life. Some people have rape fantasies or watch simulated rape porn. Does this mean that they themselves want to ACTUALLY be raped? No, not at all.

5.) As my best gay friend said, "He could be intrigued, but may not act on penis desire." In other words, viewing gay porn is the best and most healthy way for him to examine his own sexuality-- maybe he's not the sort of straight man who runs screaming at the sight of another man's naked body, but he also probably isn't looking for any backdoor love of his own from another man.

6.) Don't point your finger-- my first, knee-jerk reaction was "Whoa! Normal straight men are so turned off by gay porn! Your boyfriend could be gay!" but then I though about it, empathetically, from the female perspective. As I've stated before, I watch what is probably more than my fair share of porn. And occasionally, when everything else feels tired and old and nothing else seems to be doing it for me, I'll turn to lesbian porn, and no, not exactly the soft-core stuff of heavy-petting, either. For porn viewers, once you've seen it, it feels like you've seen it all, and variety can be called for. Does this mean I am a lesbian? No. Does this mean I can find something sexual or attractive about other women? Yes; then again, some days, I am convinced our garbage can is a stunning piece of craftsmanship and damn fine. Does this mean I would ever have sex with another woman? No. Threesomes are even out of the question for me-- I can barely handle my own vagina; I want nothing at all to do with another one. So, if a woman can watch lesbian porn, TO GET OFF, and not be a lesbian, than logic states that a man can watch gay porn, be turned on, and not even be gay at all. I have always thought, as well, even watching straight porn means a man is looking at another man's penis being used sexually, in a sexual way, so one could argue that all bits and pieces are exactly that, bits and pieces, and a woman's ass is just the same as a man's ass. Bada-boom. Is your mind bent? Because this is my own thesis, and my mind still struggles to bend around it, sometimes.

7.) If you want to see how he responds, or what the draw for him is, suggest watching porn together that you BOTH agree on. Maybe getting into his fantasy land a little will help you understand his viewing habits more, or at least make you a little more comfortable by being present and included in them.

When it boils down to it, you have to remember that if you love someone, you love the whole of them, not just the parts that you agree with. Just like you may not break up with someone when you find out they vote Republican (then again, you might!), finding out that the person you're seeing has some eclectic viewing pleasures shouldn't be a deal-breaker if you love the rest of them as a person. (This can also go if you find out your S.O is into porn with foot fetishes or extreme anal or produce or latex or dinosaur porn, too.) If you can learn to accept it, and as long as it stays in the fantasy of the porn realm, there's no reason to worry about you and your boyfriend macking on the same hot guys at the club. He loves you still. And no, he's not "flaming gay."

XOXO

NOTE! While I am in full defense of the fantasy of porn, if someone tries to move from viewing pleasure to being an active participant in anything from cams, chats, or full-on meetings and liaisons, that is a problem. In that case, there is probably more than a passing curiously or fascination at work, and this is something you REALLY want to address with him/her, for BOTH of your sexual safety. Also, the amount of porn someone watches is a health advisory as well-- porn addiction is a real thing, and is just as painful and detrimental to a relationship as someone being secretly homosexual in what is a heterosexual relationship.

Saturday, July 18, 2009

Girl About Town, Cont.

So, it's a lovely Saturday afternoon. You know-- Saturday afternoons in the summer, when there's tons of stuff to do, places to go, people to see, all sorts of free entertainment in downtown Burlington like art shows and waterfront festivals and free music, and it's finally stopped raining long enough for sunlight to be seen through the puffy white summer clouds. It's the kind of Saturday summer afternoon that makes couples rejoice and single girls believe in romance.

What am I doing while I should be frolicking in sunlight and trying to entice men with my tanned limbs and sun-kissed hair?

I'm going to go see "The Proposal" with Alli. That's right-- I'm going to go sit in a dark theater this afternoon with my roommate, split a large bag of buttery popcorn, and all for the price of a regular ticket because I am so cheap and so broke that I am literally cashing in my hoarded Susan B. Anthony coins my family used to give me on my birthday for gas and groceries. (And, the occasional movie, apparently.)

I have already exhausted all of my summer keep-busy/have-fun hobbies and events. In this past week alone, I have taken myself out for a bubble tea and chocolate reading date at Sapa, went to lunch at the Skinny Pancake and dinner at Asian Bistro in the same day, went with a friend to Yankee Tattoo as she got inked, went for a wander down by the waterfront with Madison, went to North Beach two days in a row with Alli, went to the gym twice (and it closes on the weekends or I'd be there again), spent my Thursday night playing beer pong and meeting new people at Justin's, went for an exploratory drive on 127, had an over 2-hour texting conversation with Perfect yesterday, and tomorrow am going back to Worcester to go swimming at the Pots.

I am running out of ideas to keep myself busy and (relatively) out of trouble, and there could not have been a worse time for this to happen. Why? Because Perfect is in town, less than four miles away. I am removing myself to a movie theater to try and resist the temptation to text or call Perfect and say something like, "So, I'm really, really bored and you're in town, so why don't we meet up because I have this blog that's kind of coming into it's own and unfortunately because of your decision a month ago (exactly today,) I no longer really have a love life, which is something I'd like to discuss with you, and I figure hey! A really awkward but needed "this is how I feel" conversation would really spice things up and give me something to write about you for the rest of the world online to see. Sound like fun?"

Perfect does not know about this blog. Nor does he know, (I think, I assume, I kind of hope,) that I write about him. I figure though, it's a casualty with dating a writer-- you have to assume it will happen. He knows what I do; he's read some of my articles I wrote for "Moss on the Moon." No one has supported this fact better than Stephen Stills of Crosby, Stills and Nash, who once stated: “There are three things men can do with women: love them, suffer for them, or turn them into literature.” I believe the same is true vice-versa the genders.

So instead of making further Bad Life Decisions, I'm going to a rom-com. I'll let you know how it was later.

Being a woman, though, and having a very active imagination paired with a memory like a steel trap for random facts, I remembered right after I signed on for this endeavor that Perfect and Baby Mix (AKA: the Best Friend since knee-high and training pants) usually like to go and catch a flick together on their weekends together. And we happen to share the same theater in common, compliments of living in the same town. (Baby Mix and I, that is.) Instantly, this makes me think about how awkward it would be to run into them in the (very, very slim; in fact, microscopic) chance we all decided to go see a show at the same time. But still, with most things in life, I apply the 50-50 Rule: despite all the chances, it all boils down to a 50% possibility-- they either may be there, or they won't be. I love the 50-50 Rule. It makes almost anything seem possible.

And then, right after the "What If They're There?" daydream comes the "What If They're There And Furtively Holding Hands?" daymare. Now, bromance is nothing to kid about, and no one loves a good bromance quite like I do. I am also the last person who should be ridiculing a close bond between two friends of the same sex, as I myself have been at the receiving end of lesbian rumors because of how close (and possibly, how explicit) Madison and I are together. I also, obviously, have nothing against gay people. However, I HAVE had an ex-boyfriend who ended up being secretly gay (guesses, people?), and I obviously really, really like Perfect, so this is something that would crush me. He and Baby Mix are so close and so secure in their masculinity that they joke around about being gay lovers all the time, but really, if I were to stumble upon the truth in Essex Outlets Cinema, I think I would die right there, on the cartoon move-reel carpet, spilled Nerds, Snow-Caps, crushed popcorn, and all.

Again-- the 50-50 Rule applies here: either they are, or they aren't. I am willing to stake the rest of my meager savings that they aren't, but still, it's something that makes me panic. Right up there with the possibility of being 40 and still single. Because my boyfriends turn out to be gay.

See? I'm such a total woman-- over-active imagination and the ability to turn worrying into a professional, full-contact sport. Now excuse me-- I have a dark and air-conditioned theater to remove myself to, far away from all the happy couples PDA-ing in the parks, and the temptation to either call Perfect or go for "a little drive". Pay no mind to me. In about twenty minutes, I will be replaying the "Sex With Mr. Perfect" movie-reel inside my head, and will be realizing that there is no possible way he is gay, or in love with Baby Mix any other way than really deep and abiding bro-love, like my Bitch-Hitches with Madison and Nora. Because a man who asks you if you like RECEIVING oral and obviously loves loving the snatch I don't think would be capable of the same enthusiasm for dick. Really. (By the way-- best oral of my life. Just needed to get that brag out there. Unfucking believeable. Oh yeah. Totally not gay.)

So enjoy the nice weather for me. And if you see a really massive, attractive guy with shaggy brown hair and a perfect toothy white smile lurking around with another really tall guy with long and wavy blonde hair, probably pulled back in a ponytail, who looks like Johnny Depp and Orlando Bloom miraculously copulated on the set of "Pirates of the Caribbean" and holding hands, please-- don't tell me. No, wait, scratch that-- tell me. No, better-- ask them who's the bottom. Morbid curiosity.

XOXO