Thursday, 24 May 2012
I have a confession to make. I’m afraid I’ve been letting the side down. This will come as a terrible shock to many of you I know, and you might think less of me because of it, but lately I’ve noticed I don’t think about sex 24/7. In fact, if we have a conversation, it’s quite probable that I am actually listening to what you have to say, rather than wondering about the size of your cock. I hope this doesn’t offend you. The fact that our conversation isn’t peppered with innuendo is really no reflection on your sexual attractiveness. It’s just that I don’t happen to be thinking of running off to the next dark room at the earliest opportunity. Well not all the time anyway.
Every gay magazine, every gay app, every gay shop, works on the assumption that we have sex on the brain from the moment we wake up till the moment we go to sleep (and no doubt while we sleep too), so excuse me, if I am feeling a little inadequate at the moment. I’ve noticed there are whole swathes of time, maybe even hours, when the thought of having sex doesn’t even cross my mind. Is there something wrong with me, I wonder? Has my time working in the sex industry anaesthetised the sex part of my brain? Or is it just the natural outcome of getting older? Testosterone levels do, after all, drop as we get older.
That said, I am convinced there are loads of gay men who spend hours on Grindr, Manhunt, Scruff, Gaydar, and the like, simply because that is what gay men do. They don’t actually have sex, i.e. actual physical contact with someone, though they may manage some form of cybersex. Take as an example the odd times I log onto Scruff or some such app. I am invariably besieged by all sorts of requests from guys thousands of miles away, usually accompanied by photos of them (whether genuine or not is of little consequence) in all sorts of inviting (or not) positions. The chances of us actually meeting and getting down to some of the things they suggest are minimal to say the least, but they still feel the need to suggest them. Is this just some form of validation? No doubt in many cases, the act of sex itself is just some sort of validation, and of course it is much easier to approach someone anonymously over the net than it is to talk to them in person. Just look at all the guys standing around bars, glued to their phones. Believe me they are not all checking daily stock price fluctuations. You might tell me that I should just delete all those apps, or delete my profiles from all those internet dating sites, but should I deny myself occasional pleasures just because others over indulge?
Ah, so that’s it then. Gay men do have a tendency to over indulge in most things, and sex is obviously just one of those. Why is it then that, though it bothers me not one whit that I rarely drink, even more rarely partake of drugs, and never smoke, I feel a niggling worry about the fact that I don’t have sex constantly on the brain? On second thoughts, forget everything I said. I need to go. A man with a huge bulge in his trousers has just walked past the window. I wonder if he’s on Grindr.