Thursday, December 1, 2011

when it comes to sex, fantasy's better

ah, i can hear all the angels in heaven protesting. actually, i don't completely believe it, not the sex bit, but the encounters, the adventures the quest brought, these definitely worth their weight in gold. the act, however, i think we can all agree, messy and fraught with peril: pregnancy, herpes, aids, jealous husbands, angry wives, the law.

let's take messy. when young, i could ignore the taste of a smoker and i lived with one. i could ignore blackheads, as long as i continued to float on a cloud. alas, older and disillusioned with love as we know it, i can no longer blind myself to smells. for example, finally, a woman i chased for years decided she might as well give it a chance. unfortunately, she'd come straight from a marshal arts session and hadn't taken a shower. in the middle of an attempt at passion, i detected the odor of poo, and that's all i remember these many years later.

smells go to directly into our brain, much quicker than any other sense. and even the slower ones move pretty fast. in terms of touch, skin texture means more to me now than it did in my salad days. having had a brief exposure to a type last year, i realized how those with different colored hair feel. i won't name my preference, yet i do have one. and my trekkiing across the racial divides has provided exquisite alternatives.

oops, now i'm praising the reality rather than deflating it. trouble is, we don't often have a choice. we take what we can get. so she's blond and i love brunettes, she's available. he's too old and hairy and he loves me. i'm in norway and i dote on italians. hey, get real, which is what most of us do. and this is where the imagination comes to the rescue. it saves us when we are a twosome under the covers, and it saves us when we're alone.

once i did put together an 'homage to eros'. one must looks at all the possibilities,  any choice better than none: