Too much porn, not enough sex – Learn to ride the tide

kathleenk_erotica_sex_porn_saturationThe saturation level for porn is higher than I thought possible… the relentless ram-jam-a-lam-bam of it pollutes the part of your heart that gives over to desire.  This disconnect shows most in the young because they are awash in the repetitive climaxes of the selfish and are not treated to the meaningful advances it takes to reach an interpersonal pleasure-based orgasm.  Conversely, they are denied the hope of pair-bonding given the high divorce rates, the bickering over who may marry whom, and the dismal state of love as war.  Vows for now.

The anticipation of physical intimacy is frittered away; we’ve seen it all, stark and gasping, but then we fidget watching love scenes that capture the sweet probing and rapturous elevation of permission between people.  We are way too mechanical and task-oriented in sex.   We may be all modern about hooking up but in fact the percolating of desire and escalation of tension is rarely savored.  Nobody wants to wait for even a moment… brew my coffee in a minute, cook my burrito in two… look at my picture and swipe right or left.  Do it.  Do it.  Do it.

Take a vacation from whatever’s left you bored by sex and go in another direction… reading, writing, listening, thinking about the sweet tease of sex to come, what will happen when you reach out… break it down and look at the pieces.  Not just those pieces… all your parts.

kathleen_k_erotica_sexotica_booksSex is a tide of sensations and emotions, it has a push and a pull, it is powerful in its rhythm yet capricious with its swells and eddies; we ride the wave action on the surface of a surge only when we paddle out to meet it.  Some of us never dive below that churning to find the cool deep energy within.  It isn’t only about love, or what we think of as “love” when commingling emotion with sex.  It can be appreciation, it can be joy.  It can be supreme kindness.

Don’t think only about your sex, consider sex in general, consider it across time and distance, assess its impact on history and culture – our survival.  This isn’t just about a little rub-a-dub at the club, bub.


Here’s a low, slow roll on text from The Lunarium; he’s telling us about sex clubs. I am experimenting with adding audio segments for some of the stories.  I’m envisioning home-grown parts-of-books in online sound files:  quick and light and freewheeling, organically indie as the books themselves.  That’s the fun of collaborating with people.  I would have never heard, or at least had not yet heard, a dark rumble in the words of my favorite voyeur. That got me thinking.

SAMPLE – Not suitable for some, appreciated by others.  Vignette-Things of voyeurism.

The Lunarium

(One man’s memories of the watchers and the watched)

The Second Thing >< Voyeurs’ Cave

You say you didn’t know that places like the Lunarium really existed, well, obviously they do. They always have and, I hope, always will. The human being gathers information for survival. Some eye the moon, others hear the wind pick up… there are people watchers. Human social senses cycle through eons and aeons. Through it all we’ve needed air, water, food and sex. Shelter is nice but a luxury. (Love is a form of shelter.)

To learn the powers of sex, whether or not by observation, has driven many a human through life. We are not alone, here and now. Artists etched sex on cave walls as soon as they could put their minds and materials to it. People are generally secretive about sex, elusive. These are important feelings to be handled with care. Privacy is a state of mind in an igloo; a matter of custom with rice paper walls… we may know exactly when others are making love but rarely see them do so.

I want to watch.  Justify it? Let history do that. I accept this as a fact about myself. Being a ritualistic kind of guy, I arrange to view the embodiment of erotic contact in much the same way I get to church on time, and see my accountant quarterly. Sexual adventures seemed necessary to me. I allowed for them in my life. I cultivated a reputation of having a private existence, distinct from other duties, and was careful to remove myself from my “real” world for my voyeurism. It was as much a matter of discipline as caution, if I truly wanted to participate in such exotic behavior then a fifty-mile journey would be worth it — an odyssey. I didn’t walk the wild side in in my neighborhood, nor did I take the neighborhood with me: I dressed differently, modulated my regional pride, rented a car, carried cash… I became my essential self which contributes to the pleasure, I’m sure.

To preserve its impact, I don’t indulge myself in as much of this as I would like to do. Distancing it helps in that regard. Adventuring is a treat, a special event, not to be confused with my mundane life. I wasn’t “me” when I showed up at a party house: I attended as a single straight male. I didn’t usually go into the orgy rooms because there is a presumption of participation. I stay in the voyeurs’ cave – lots of graphic foreplay and a little actual balling – with no obligation to reciprocate. The watchers very much affect the do-ers. In the orgy rooms there are no barriers, you are available in all senses. You will not be hurt (there are rooms for that). You expect excess.

I have seen groups of people doing sex stuff but they knew they were being watched and acted accordingly. If it ever happened you were given the chance to see seven people join genitals would that be “worse” than watching a married couple in a spot-lit cocoon? Do people object that the sex is wrong, the watching is wrong, or is it the selection of personnel and props?

Ritual is big with Americans. Pledge allegiance, file your taxes, follow lines on the road, yield to the right, stop at red octagons. Two-by-two. Marriage is a legal/financial state, with various religious & social overtones. We’ve regulated vice and put sex central to that category. Vice = moral depravity: a judgment call. Regular crime isn’t considered depraved… robbery, burglary, murder, rape. Simple crimes. But vice, wicked vice, sex for hire – gambling – the naughty crimes ‑‑ we pay special attention to vice, it has its own department. (Mind crimes.)

You don’t find a voyeurs’ cave listed in the phone book; making contact is clandestine and often done with code numbers and false identities. It is easier to buy an illegal handgun than to find a swingers’ party. It isn’t even a sense of privacy that contains sexual adventures, it is a sense of peril that fences us in. You must not get caught doing this – group sex is depraved!

I am able to move freely through this society because I am not extremely anything. I’m not rich or poor, giant or dwarf. I’m at mid-life, averaged sized, typically Irish with my dark hair and green eyes, clear pale skin. I was spared the red hair and freckles that stereotype Gaelic, given a crooked nose by accident and a beard because I hate shaving.

The truth is, life has been good to me.

 kathleenk_erotica_voyeurism_lunarium erotica_kathleenk_sexotica_best_of_kirkus_reviews

Named to Kirkus Reviews’ Best of 2013

#readmore

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One thought on “Too much porn, not enough sex – Learn to ride the tide

Greetings from Kathleen K. I am interested in your comments. Thanks for taking the time.

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