One thing has finally occured to me, similar to an old adage that my grandfather drilled into me: we all jerk off just the same.
Sexy, unsexy, cut, flabby, short, tall, Asian, Latin...gorgeous or plain...we all beat our meat for fun and to burn off sexual steam.
But for quite some time, I've always envisioned the really hot people, the ones with ripped bodies and coy, sexy looks never really jerk off. I mean, they could have a lineup of guys wanting to do it for them, so why waste the effort? Why not save yourself and let somebody else do all the work - and clean up the mess?
Strange, I know, since masturbation is one of the most normal, across the board trademarks of human sexuality. It reminds me so of my grandfather's consistent belief that, when confronted with the rich, the famous or the plain beautiful, remember; we all shit the same.
So when I found myself about a year ago talking to a very, very attractive guy online, I was somewhat surprised that he confessed his weekend was going to consist of jerking off and sleeping.
It all started rather strangely, for me; with a compliment. Without being too overly bullshitish, he simply said, "Hello handsome." An unusual comment directed at me, not because I think I'm truly hideous but because nobody ever really says it...
Anyway, we began talking about this and that, and it struck me that maybe this guy wasn't so attractive after all. I mean, he was being nice! He was being polite! He was engaging in intelligent conversation, meaningful dialogue about his job and his life! He couldn't be hot, too; he wasn't self-centred enough!
I know, there are friendly gorgeous people out there. I've met them, I've talked to them, but they remain interested in you only for so long. Eventually, a boy of their calibre passes perilously close and, poof, they're lost in each other and you're reminded that three's a crowd.
But as we broached the subject of each others' weekend plans, he made the rather out of context statement that, since he had no other plans, nor anything much to do, he was going to sleep and jerk off.
He immediately appologized, wiping away any chance that it was a come-on, an attempt to have me do the heavy lifting for him.
Yet the flirtations continued, with me jokingly insulting his alma matter. His response, "You're lucky your cute... you can get away with it."
Well colour me flattered, I thought, I might have a live one here. Intelligent enough to get my jokes, good-natured enough to reciprocate, and open enough to admit he's going to, between Christmas shopping and card writing, beat his dick off multiple times.
As we talked more, his playfulness continued as he described his interests, which included diving. I'd seen a face picture of this guy, and thought indeed that he was quite attractive. But the photo in his IM box was of a perfectly formed, perfectly tanned ass, tucked into a perfectly small Speedo. Holy shit...this is the elusive, porn-star-esque type of boy that I always wondered about but never talked to!
The amazement didn't stop there. He cooks, he keeps a nice house, he has a brilliant and creative job...and he was still flirting with me.
And just as we were wrapping that part of the conversation, about his hot swimmers body and eye candy at the pool, concluding with a witty remark from me that made him laugh, he magically disconnected. I'm going to, as I usually grudgingly do, give him the benefit of the doubt and pretend that his internet died.
Thinking back on it, I instantly focused on what I still found hard to believe:
The eligible, gorgeous, fit, intelligent, well-to-do young guy was going to blow off sexual tension not by bedding other equally etherial boys, but by jerking off. Who knows if it's because he despises casual sex, or if he has his own hangups with hookups, but the only person working over his pole this weekend was going to be him.
It really makes all those overly fierce, hot guys seem just a bit more human, and a bit less fabulous. Instead of the assumed fantasy that they are simply so attractive they need not masturbate, I learned that even the hot ones rub one out all by themselves. That maybe they're not on such a vastly different plane of existence after all.
Because, like my grandfather always said, we all shit the same, each and every one of us.
2 comments:
Your post reminded me of something I heard earlier tonight.
There was this patient who had pretty aggressive prostate cancer, had his prostate removed and the whole treatment. And of course one of the major side-effects was erectile difficulty (that Viagra didn't help much with).
This guy was fairly young to have this kind of prostate cancer. Well, the surgeon referred him to another doctor. Who said, "The blue pill won't work - you need penile rehabilitation."
When the guy asked what that meant, she said "You need to masturbate every day." The guy was married with a wife, but nevertheless found it amusing. He was just like, "Where were you during high school?"
My grandmother used to say in the 1950s "There's nowt so queer as folk"
(she should be collecting royalties)
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