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This Bear's Sex Life

Let’s talk about sex just for a little bit. I think I have done nothing but obsess over money for quite some time now and I actually could write several pages waxing on about my current state of poverty and financial doom but just a moment ago I saw a brief clip of a porn and it was like a lightning bolt went straight through me. I haven’t completely forgotten about sex. Despite the different calamities that have befallen me I have taken the time to watch porn on a consistent basis, and it was something about these few seconds in particular that just struck a chord with me. Three young men, dark golden and of Latino decent; one the stereotypical over muscled, tattooed with gold teeth dominate, the other smaller, smooth twinks. He dominated the both of them in a couple of heart (and ass) pounding moments.

When I have had thoughts of the whole dominance/submission aspect of relationships and sex I can never fully bring myself to come close to rationalizing the submissiveness within myself. It’s something I have maintained for years now. As far as getting fucked, do what you want, treat me a like a big old rag dog and fuck me all over the house, all over the yard, all over the city. But then get your shit and leave. I've always maintained that there is a release of control that is involved in sex on everyone’s part really. It switches up. If it’s good it switches up.

When I think about submission; I think about enveloping someone’s essence or, dissolving into their aura or, becoming what they desire or, an avatar for their sexual fantasies. I don’t think I have ever laid down and told someone, "I’ll be whatever you want." I don’t think I have ever trusted anyone that much. Specifically, I don’t think I have ever trusted anyone enough to give up that much control and believed they could handle it accordingly outside the bedroom. I think I get that idea from the hetero relationships I have seen. Eddie Murphy made that infamous joke about when he fucks a woman so good that she makes this particular moan and when he hears it he knows that he’s fucked her so complete and so good that he can do whatever he wants afterwards. I actually remember watching that concert movie with my MOM (!) and I distinctly remember when that section came up she angrily said to the television screen, “That’s some BULLSHIT!” I think that sentiment has always stuck with me. Like, just because you took me “there”… doesn’t mean you can show up at my house whenever you want to without calling first or that I’m going to give you money or that I’m even going to acknowledge you when I’m out with my friends… or my boyfriend. Or as Tori Amos infamously said, “So you made me cum, does that make you Jesus?”

As of date I have had some explicit sexual fantasies involving my ex husband. Out of everybody I have ever been with he is the one that I actually would deliver myself to in that manner and I think the fact that he’s been dead for over two decades plays no small role in my sexual feelings for him. The trust is there because he isn’t here to hurt me. But in my mind, we have done some pretty intimate and disgusting things. And I swallowed all of it, complete and whole. I’m not sure if I would let an actual “person” ever do those things to me. I’m not sure if I would ever trust them that much.

And not to keep bringing him up but my most recent Ex does pop up in these conversations that I have with myself. If there is anything I regret about that relationship is that we decided to be lovers. It was the absolute worse decision we could have ever made, or at least the worse I ever made. If we would have just stayed best friends, the world would be such a better place right now. He would be seeing some big dicked dude and I would just be here with my heart still intact. We would swap stories of being humiliated and pissed on and cummed on and cummed in and we would explore our fantasizes together without all that messy loyalty and jealousy involved, he would just be my freaky little friend. We would just exchange notes and watch some TV and that would be that. I would have so preferred that. I hate that my heart got involved. It’s one of my biggest regrets in LIFE actually.

And when I think about sex it does become glaringly clear that we were not sexually compatible. Which I sort of knew from the get go, I was just so optimistic that we would be able to work that out. But right now, after the smoke has been cleared, the graves have been dug, filled and trees sprouting on top of them, it’s just clear that he had no intention of EVER trying to blend his love for me and his sexual appetite. I don’t think he ever thought it was possible to ever do that with anybody. I don’t think he thought it was possible to be in love with somebody and admit (let's say) that he wants to be smothered in mayonnaise and be called Shirley while sucking their toes. That’s why I think it was totally natural for him to lie and cheat. In his mind I think it was like,

“I wanted to get fucked like a bitch with someone with an abnormally humongous horse dick while being smothered in mayonnaise and sucking their toes and I was never going to tell you about it and CLEARLY you were never going to do that so…. duh…. yeah... clearly I was going to lie about it and do it anyway. That's how gay relationships operate. Don't you have Instagram?"

Damn, I really don’t even want to go back to that energy or just repeat that whole relationship all over again. But the point is, I know how it is to be insatiable. I know how it is to climb the walls. I could have been reasoned with. I still can. Not with him but, just in general. Like moving forward, it should be known… yeah, I’m dick crazy too.

As far as intimacy is concerned, if I ever was “Husband Close” to anybody, it was with that particular Ex. And even with him, there were guards up. Let’s be truthful, we had bad sex. We had bad sex. Again, I was just optimistic that it would get better, if not the best, but in reality… we had bad sex. And as much as we talked, there were definitely some sex things that we avoided. And even when we saw each other in the flesh, the both of us were too afraid to admit what we wanted and what we thought of the other person. Damn, I wish were just friends! LOL! All of this so could have been avoided man! But I digress… I do want to be “Husband Close” with someone again. Let’s define this “Husband Close” scenario. To be soul linked with someone in a real and lasting way that supersedes social media, social norms and/or social taboos while still keeping a healthy and grounded outlook on reality, responsibility and physical needs. In other words, more than being with someone, KNOWING someone, and they KNOW you, to have this mutual respect and trust as well as an almost uncontrollable animal magnetism to fuck the shit out of each other. I think “mutual” is the key word though. It only works and it’s only worth it if both people are involved. I want that. I think I can find that. I think some of it is luck and predestination but I also think you have to work at it too. You have to be ready when it comes to you. Like right now, I’m 50/50. If someone were to find THIS attractive, I would be suspect. I would still see what happens, but I couldn’t deny a certain level of self-sabotage that would happen. Now if they’re willing to look past that bullshit… let’s do it. But yeah… there’s going to be bullshit.

I do have this intense man crush on a Facebook friend. It’s nice have a crush on someone. Been a long time. In the midst of my world crumbling around me lately, I have visualized some aspects of a prodigious life that is actually still attainable. It mainly revolves around being financially soluble, healthy, fashionable, my friends being around, me being published, and having a decent dude with goals, intention and a need to fuck me as much I want to fuck him. This Facebook friend is now the avatar of that dude. I still have a dream of vacationing in Hawaii. I would be fit/muscular and we would just have fun and swim around and love on each other. And if he wanted mayonnaise, he would tell me, and we would work it out. We would make each other cum. Neither one of us would be Jesus.


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