You’re always so horny.
Scout told me this the other day. I didn’t argue the point; it's true. I have a voracious appetite. I always want it. Nothing wrong with that, right? I even (in my own way) asked if it was a bad thing (You never complained before). Just a comment. Nothing behind it. Simply an observation.
So I let it go for the night and showed Scout the perks of having such a horny boyfriend. It was a toe-curling good time. And after a couple hours of naughtiness, I decided to head home. During the drive, I began to think about Scout’s observational comment. Was it a bad thing? I know I’m not exactly the most normal boy when it comes to sex; up until a few months ago it was who, how, when, where and whatever I wanted. I wasn’t big on saying no. When I go for an HIV test, I go silent when asked how many partners I’ve had. Not out of shame, mind you. I just need to concentrate. A lot of people to remember.
And now that I’m being all monogamous, I’ve been having less sex than before. After all, who can keep up with the fucking energizer bunny? Frankly, I’m a lot of libido for one person.
A few days later, I went to visit Goose, a newly married friend who gave up a life of unlimited sexual encounters for Duck, her geeky, yet cute and cool, husband. Unless he’s been drinking and starts singing about math. Then he’s pure geek. Goose insists he’s still cute, even when the music (in his drunken head) inspires song. Ah, how blinding is love.
Before marriage, Goose was like I was before Scout. Sex was more akin to breathing. We’re talking the all night long variety. For Goose, her relationship with Duck began that way; three times or more a day, they were moaning, groaning and screaming out the names of saints. Oh, and did I mention they hooked up in a three-way?
Now, not so much. As goes with marriage, their sex life is closer to non-existence than mine. Too tiredness, headaches, nausea… Many upon many reasons exist for why either Duck or Goose are not in the mood. And when they do get around to it, Goose is… shall we say, suffering from a certain body part refusing to come along for the ride. Now don’t go blaming Duck; even B.O.B. can’t get her to Happytown.
Goose also likes to say Duck is not interested, but Duck is interested – anyone watching them can see it – but Goose doesn’t seem to notice the subtle invitations. And if he’s forward (hand down pants-like), she gets angry. Something about not liking being treated like a sexual object; I don’t get that, but that’s all whatever. So even when there is mood to go around, it gets lost in translation and no one gets their naughty bits played with.
Damned if do. Damned if don’t.
So of course Goose yelled at me just for mentioning Scout’s mention. While she loves Duck dearly, with sex having been on the decline, she’s been feeling somewhat… frustrated. And understandably so. She is craving an earth-shaking orgasm.
Duck don’t know yet.
Seeing this made me realize that the horny remark from Scout really wasn’t anything more than an observation. An observation I don’t know that Duck or Goose would point out to each other. Scout was able to communicate to me a thought about what could be a difficult subject. It's not, mind you. And I’m happy about that. Still, I wouldn’t mind more. And perhaps a bit of experimentation…
Anyways, there’s a point here somewhere.
Oh, here it is…
While most people out there may prefer their sexual relations kept away from other aspects of their daily lives, I’m more about twenty foreplay: every moment spent with the object of my desire is laced with lust and passion and a blood-burning urge to tear clothes off. Every breath, every touch, every sound is meant to lead us both into the sweaty tangled-limbs portion of our time together.
We’d talk, laugh, eat… whatever typical “getting-to-know-you” activity we felt like participating in. But it was always with the intention of finishing up the evening (or mid-morning) with a loud, thunderous prayer to God.
Basically, it's all about the sex. Or at least, it use to be.
It's different for Scout and as a result, me. Every visit does not automatically mean we’re going to naked dance. There’s always some sort of relief, just not always the full act. And while I’m (formally) accustomed to finishing off the night with a squeaking bed, I’m finding that what we do do when we don’t do it it has the potential to be exactly what I want and, more importantly, need.
And Goose is jealous. She would love to have more than what little sex she has with Duck. She never considers straying, and for her, that speaks volumes about her husband. And herself for that matter.
Strange the ways a good relationship can completely remodel so much about a person.
By the way, I’m a little jealous in return. Granted, Scout and I round home-base more often, but she lives with her object of desire. She gets to see him everyday. Every night, they crawl into the same bed and wake next to each other (plus a half-dozen or so animals) every morning. I only get to see Scout a couple times a week. Neither of us have perfection. But it's okay.
When I first told her Scout's comment Goose exclaimed that at least I get some. I couldn’t help but laugh at her outburst. Not the nicest response but… I never realized a normal sex life could be envied. Funny. In a fucked up sort of way.
Let me make something clear: I am happy with Scout. I enjoy our time together. Naked or dressed, I feel a strange sense of… contentment, and that’s why not perfect works. Not the word you were expecting? Why is content is the best thing to be? Because it means things are good while still having room for improvement. It's a great point to be at in a relationship, sexual or otherwise. Contentment allows everyone to grow and learn and become more than what they were before. Where Scout and I are is a good place. And it being a good place, thanks in part to Scout, makes me want to make it a better place. I feel myself pushed, by myself, and that is one of the best feelings in the world. Oh, the wonders of sex. Or lack there of.
So what if I’m a little horny?