About a dozen years ago, my sister confided in me that she didn’t like sex. She complained that it was messy.
Given our culturally Catholic upbringing and our OCD clean freak and germaphobe mother, I’m not surprised. But at the same time, my sister has a dog, something my mother will never let in her house because of the mess … hair, smells, and sitting on furniture with asses they can’t wipe after they take a dump.
Perhaps it’s because I’ve always been the rebel in my family, but I think it’s pretty universal that people, and not just men, get turned on by someone who appeals to them, especially if they’re in love.
A good marriage? Check. My sister and my brother-in-law have that.
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I can only think of one man with whom I didn’t enjoy having sex … my ex-husband. He was a virgin when we met. He came from a rather rigidly religious and emotionally-devoid family. They were dull but otherwise pleasantly polite people. He, too, had his hang-ups about enjoying sex, even though we had it in the early years of our marriage. He wasn’t enthusiastic about it. He didn’t want to try to be good at it or top his last experience. When it came to doing something different, like outdoor sex or playing with sex toys, forget it. During our divorce, he told me I was crazy and needed professional help. It wasn’t as if I wanted sex every day or wanted to fit him with a ball gag and whip his ass until it was red as it was hot. Far from it. Otherwise, during the first 10 years of our 12-year marriage, we were a happy and loving couple.
Aside from mental and physical dysfunctions, medications, and sexual abuse, how can people not get turned on by the partners that they love? How can someone not get horny, let alone not want to express and share that with someone? How can people not crave the heat and comfort of skin-to-skin contact? How can anyone not jones for the feeling of getting unwired during an orgasm or the twisting, tussling, pushing and pounding that leads up to it? The human body is capable of some remarkable things during sex. We’re able to contort our bodies in ways that are almost impossible when we’re not sexually aroused. We’re able to effortlessly exert power and force in ways that would otherwise seem exhausting. Breasts, labias and penises enlarge. Eyes dilate. The brain produces endorphins … nature’s self-producing high.
Aside from the physical need, there are emotional, if not spiritual, aspects to sex. Depending on the mood we’re in, it’s about giving into and letting go of aggression. It can be breathtakingly beautiful like a view from a mountain top or from the shore of an ocean at sunrise or sunset. It can be thrilling, like a roller coaster ride that drops from 80 feet in the air and then spins around upside down. It can also be Zen-like and attaining the ultimate bliss. It’s also about connection … the coming of one … when bodies and minds meld together.
I believe that humans are inherently built and wired to enjoy sex. I’ve never bought the theories that sex drives are all about a man’s desire to sow his seeds or a woman’s desire to procreate. If that were the case, wouldn’t our sex drives click off once we hit 40?
I guess I’m still wrapping my head around how things like religion, fabricated social/secular mores, and aversion of messiness can get in the way of something that is or should be so enjoyable and natural.