My So-Called Sex Life

Okay, so, I talk about sex in this post.  If you’re related to me and don’t want to have to think about me as a sexual being, feel free to skip this post.  See you in the next one!

As for the rest of you… 

Sad Truths

I put the word ‘sex’ in the title of this post, and I’m just hoping that nobody accuses me of using clickbait.  Because I really don’t have a sex life.  And that’s what this post is about.

I am sexually inactive.  I used to label myself a virgin, but then people started to argue with me about that.  Some people would outright call me a liar, arguing against the mere concept of it.  “A 51 year old male living in 21^st century America?  A virgin?  I think not!”

I’ve had other people argue that definition when they hear the specifics of what I’ve done (and haven’t done) sexually.  (Things I won’t get into graphic detail about here.)  I’ve had people tell me that I’m not a virgin, but only technically.  I’ve had others tell me that I probably am still a virgin, but again, only technically.  That’s just really weird. 

So now I tend to just hit people with this sad and depressing truth:  I’ve never had an orgasm that wasn’t entirely self-administered. 

 

Behold the Lonely Box of Condoms.  Unopened.  Unused

Good Lord, Why?!?

 

That’s a question I get asked a lot.  Why haven’t I had sex yet. 

Basically, it boils down to this.  For as far back as I can remember until about the age of 25, I was primarily a good Catholic boy.  From the age of 17 through present day, I’ve been chronically ill.  That overlap – 17 to 25 – is generally when you’d expect sex to occur.  But during that time I was still trying to deny my sexual urges and at the same time getting consistently sicker and heavier.  By time sex was more important to me than being a good Catholic boy, it was pretty much too late for me.

Swing and a Miss

I’ve almost had sex with two different women.  MMG and LL.  (I’m amused by the fact that LL shares her initials with a bunch of Superman supporting characters.  Lois Lane, Lana Lang, Lori Lemaris, and of course, Lex Luthor.) 

I met MMG back when I was still doing zines.  She saw a review of one of my zines in Factsheet 5 and sent for a copy.  She apparently liked it because she became a regular subscriber.  We started corresponding, and then—we always used to argue about which one of us seduced the other, but I seduced her.  We got together and fooled around on a number of occasions.  Sadly, she has since died of lung cancer. 

I met LL at one of Darklady’s parties at the Wunderground up in Portland.  We fooled around on several occasions as well.  She has since moved far away and gotten married. 

The reason that I only almost had sex with MMG is a very weird circumstance that I’m unwilling to share here. 

The reason that I only almost had sex with LL is because my bad knee gave out on me just as we were starting to get into it, completely destroying the mood. 

Nobody’s Choice

Last time they weighed me I clocked in at 385 lbs.  (But honestly, my weight fluctuates from 350 to 450 over the course of time, and it’s currently trending upward due to bad medicinal side effects.)  Medically I’m in the category of ‘morbidly obese’. 

I’m also chronically ill.  I’ve lost most of my hair.  I’ve got a mouthful of bad teeth.  I’m on a fixed income.  I don’t drive. 

(And if my stomach and penis would switch size categories, I’d actually be quite the catch.  But as it is now… not so much.) 

Nobody’s running over here to date me.  There’s certainly nobody running over here to secure my friendship complete with benefits package. 

I’ve heard that there exists a type of woman who fetishizes fat guys.  But I have yet to meet one of these seemingly mythical creatures.

Porn Builds Character

Early on, most of my sexual information came from pornography.  Letters to Penthouse.  Grainy 3^rd generation pirated VHS tapes of X-rated movies.  The usual pre-internet-era stuff. 

(The high school in my small, mostly-Catholic town taught a total of five days worth of sex-ed.  And I was out with the flu that week.) 

I haven’t had vanilla sex yet.  And I want to.  There’s nothing wrong with vanilla.  But, close to 40 years of looking at porn and reading erotica has made my brain develop kinks, fetishes, and a healthy interest in BDSM activities. 

Even if I’m just a (really, really, really) late bloomer and start having sex soon, my sexual progression isn’t going to be exactly normal. 

Where Does a Shut-In Go to Pick Up Women?

Even before Covid happened, I only ever really went to the grocery store, doctor’s appointments and a LEGO convention or two each year.  Certainly no single bars, coed gyms, or other traditional pick-up spots. 

I’ve tried finding a potential sex partner on the internet, but the places that I’ve been looking are filled with fakes and flakes.  Nobody who actually follows through all the way to an initial meeting let alone a tryst. 

Which brings me back to the places I do go.  I don’t see me finding a lover at the grocery store, and I’m scared of the notion of finding one in a doctor’s waiting room.  Which leaves the LEGO conventions. 

There are a lot of awesome women that attend LEGO conventions, and yes, I’m attracted to some of them.  Nobody that I wouldn’t want to be friends with regardless of whether ‘benefits’ were on the table or not. 

But a lot of these women are married.  Which, assuming these are traditional vanilla marriages, means that they’re off-limits.  And most of them are younger than me.  Which wouldn’t bother me in the least, but might be a deal-breaker for them. 

Right now my only real hope is that some lovely female LEGO fan attending Bricks Cascade decides to take pity on me, and approaches me with intent to sex me up. 

(Yes, I realize how big a fantasy that is.  Just let me have my delusions, please.) 

Bedlessness

I’ve mentioned before in the blog that I’ve got lung issues which require me to sleep sitting up in a chair.  Which means that there is no bed in my apartment.  And that’s a pretty important piece of furniture when you’re interested in having sex. 

I’ve got chairs in my apartment.  My sleeping chair, my computer chair, the kitchen chair, and the LEGO room chair.  I’ve also got a loveseat, but it seems too small for naked adult shenanigans.  Then there’s the cold, cold floor. 

So that leaves her place.  But, as I said before, I don’t drive.  I’d be relying on her for round-trip transportation. 

Yeah, come to my apartment and we can have sex on the cold, cold floor.  Either that or come get me, drive me to your place, have sex with me, and then drive me back to my place again.  Yeah, that’s probably not happening. 

Cluelessness

LL used to accuse me of being clueless.  Specifically about all matters sexual.  (Despite my in depth sex education via pornography.) 

One time I was attending one of Darklady’s events, and I chatted with this woman.  Later on I was informed by someone else that the person I thought I was just chatting with was actually flirting with me.  By the time I was alerted to the woman’s flirting, she had already left.  LL was right:  I was clueless. 

I simply cannot tell whether or not a woman I’m communicating with is flirting with me.  (Not that I think women are actually flirting with me, but sometimes I wonder.  What’s the difference between friendly and flirting?) 

What I need is for a woman to come right out and say, “I want to have sex with you”.  (Or even the less enthusiastic, “I’m willing to have sex with you.”) 

Plus, I have no idea how to flirt.  Maybe I’m incapable of flirting, maybe I just can’t tell when I’m flirting.  Who knows? 

One More Try

Like I said, I met MMG through one of my zines.  I don’t do zines anymore, but I do blog.  So here’s hoping that someone reading this takes an interest in me.  Only instead of almost having sex with me, maybe this time someone will actually have sex with me.