Wise people are discussing sex addiction at the moment. And by ‘wise people’ I mean mostly Brooke Magnanti, who’s written some interesting stuff about it in the Telegraph as well as her excellent book ‘The Sex Myth‘. I’m nervous about applying the label ‘addiction’, particularly to something I enjoy immensely and crave absolutely, but that also – despite my occasional fuck-ups – significantly improves my life. Brooke nails many of my concerns about the sex addiction industry, and rest assured that no matter what you think your problem with sex is, you can guarantee there’ll be someone happy to take your money for a ‘cure’.
However, the fact that there are dubious diagnoses of ‘porn addiction’ and much hand-wringing about ‘sex-addicted’ celebrities, that doesn’t negate the very real problems that some people have with sex – if something is negatively affecting your life, then making the decision to take control of it is probably a wise one. This week’s guest post, which I found hilarious as well as touching, comes from a guy who is as filthy as I am (and most likely even filthier) but for whom sex isn’t the magical wonderland he really wants. In his own excellent (and anonymous) words, I’ll let him explain…
Giving up on filthy sex
It’s funny how things turn out. One minute you’re married, living the Guardian colour supplement dream, and the next you’re listening to the fire alarm go off at 11am when you’re in the middle of your first all male threesome. While your febrile imagination runs through the many and varied ways in which your immediate future can best humiliate you, the voice in your head is simply saying, ‘what the fuck? How the hell did I end up living in a bachelor pad having two cocks in my mouth for elevenses?’ Then you remember that it’s Thursday, fire alarm test day. The looks of horror subside, and hungry mouths get to work once more …
That’s right, I am a man-whore, a slut; call me what you will. Over the past year, for example, I think I fucked as many women as I did in the twenty years following the greatly anticlimactic event that was the mislaying of my virginity. I’ve had sex with several men: both the sensual and louche kind and the on your knees from the moment the front door is shut to the moment they cum in your mouth kind. I’ve had threesomes, foursomes and fivesomes, been to orgies, parties and swinging-friendly amenities. I’ve licked my partner’s pussy while another guy squirted his cum down her throat, watched her get fucked by two men, fucked her while a guy wanked into my open mouth, letting the cum drip into hers, fucked a guy while he was fucking her … Sometimes I think back and almost shock myself, and yet it started with a kiss.
To be brutally honest, I love it. I love to see the naked greed in a girl’s eyes, to see the look in a guy’s as my partner takes his cock in her mouth, I love it all. Which makes it all the more strange that I’m giving it up.
Why give up on filthy sex?
Not long after the kiss, I found myself putting a collar on the actual girl next door in a B&BDSM in the sticks. The next week I was at a party. I was introduced to a Dr Jones, simply because we were the only two Drs there. After about ten minutes I said, simply, ‘shall we fuck?’ The only query was her place or mine. It was a while before I realised that I had been caught in a perfect sexual storm.
I was single, clever, charming, handsome, fit, with a disposable income and a newly acquired (non-transmittable) disease which had two neatly intersecting outcomes – a carpe diem mentality and a pharmaceutically-induced sexual compulsion. I was suddenly devastatingly successful, to the point that when I found a properly filthy girl, the kind who would make me fuck her before she went to work and would then spend the day sending me texts such as ‘In a meeting. Can feel you leaking out of my cunt. Hot’, I simply carried on. I cultivated a rolling harem of between four and eight girls on top (sometimes literally) of my partner. Now I’m living the dream, right?
Did I just say I was going straight? It amazes me, too. I’ve had two proper play partners, both sexy and both filthy. The first was a proper partner. I fucked that up because I couldn’t control my compulsion. The second was achingly sexy, fabulously filthy, but I just didn’t care, so while it was great fun, the whole game started to lose its appeal. We still had outrageously good sex, but came to need others. We’d arrange meets and people wouldn’t show. Fakers and dreamers, most of them. And then we’d have one of those meets when it seemed like everyone was climbing over me to get at her. Naturally, our open relationship was extremely one-sided – I got all the action.
The compulsion meant that when the hunger hit, it was like a drug, I simply had to get something, anything. Sport fucking is what I once heard it called. It became mechanical. I started counting.
This is what compulsion does to you. You acquire, you collect: you never connect.
In the middle of the craziness I connected with someone who couldn’t cope with the sharing. She tried, taking some guy home after a party I wasn’t at, but regretted it. Strangely, I found myself a little jealous. So I decided to try, to see whether the finest vanilla can trump the kid in a candy store draw of tutti frutti. To see whether the taste of perversion, once experienced, is craved forevermore.
Wish me luck.
If you enjoyed that post, check out some more guest contributions, and let the author know what you think in the comments!
13 Comments
God, you sound like my perfect man. If you ever go back to the dark side, get in touch!
I’m not sure that is the best way to help this guest author with his willpower. *sexy stern face*
Ahem, sorry… Forgetting myself there…
OP, I wish you every success in this new phase of your life!
excellent!
I’ve tried on multiple occasions to change… no luck…but at the moment at least I have a girl that is very very dirty and bored yet, with the as toy call it mechanical almost collecting of extreme and ticked up things we can do..
If you and the lady feel like a set cinema hookup feel free to email.
Sorry I can spell, but didn’t notice the auto correct from the device I am using
That’s a genuine offer right? Hope so!
1. I would not call that filthy sex. Just unattached, intense, adventurous. But using a derogatory word for what is globally perceived as bad by our pervasive sex-negative culture will not help making the right decisions.
2. sex will have its way. Evolution has had millions of years to make sure about that. So trying to put a lid on a crave for adventurous sex will not work if there’s no pressure valve. Either the girfriend is adventurous enough to be that valve, or she’s going to have to accept some level of openness, else you’re both going to be miserable in the end.
3. because appetite for sex is not an addiction, it is much easier to cut back on the doses without having to go abstinent, as opposed to tobacco, alcohol or heroin. Personally, just as I would cut back but not give up on chocolate, I would not give up on adventurous sex, I’d simply make sure it does not rule my world.
Ah, you’re 100% right about the title – that’s my fault, and I struggled with this one. I could have chosen better so have slapped myself on the wrist. I don’t think the word ‘filthy’ is derogatory at all, though, particularly in the context of this blog. It’s a word I use for many of the things I love the most, and I reckon that I’m fairly qualified to claim it back from those who’d use it to try and make sex seem shameful.
Your point about evolution is an interesting one: I think there are certain things you can put a lid on, or at least hold back – after all, we don’t tend to kill each other for food or fuck at random or do any of the other things that our biology would often suggest we should. But I agree that if sex is something you crave utterly then it can be incredibly difficult. I wish the guest poster the best of luck in his attempts at monogamy – I’m doing the same thing at the moment having found a dude who’d rather all the filthy sex I had was with him =)
(humans do kill for food)
:-)
I am all in favor of reclaiming derogatory sex words when they are sex words (just as Tristan Taormino sticks with the word “porn” to increase mainstream acceptance of ethically produced erotica). But “filth” unfortunately (as far as I can fathom from my French-speaking background) preexists as a derogatory term completely outside the sex lexicon — much harder to reclaim than slut, fag or cunt.
Good luck with the monogamy thing. As I write in my blog (about how my wife and I opened up our marriage after 17 years when she fell in love with a good friend of ours), lovers might find it appealing to lock the door on their little out-of-the-world cocoon, but they should make sure they unlock it before someone feels stifled (noone has to go out the door then, just knowing that one is here on their own free will is sometimes enough, like knowing one has agreed on a safe word).
FYI : I intend to float an English version of the blog soon. It’ll be at haveyourpussyandeatittoo.wordpress.com
For now, there’s just this one post, which sort of sums it all.
We might have to agree to disagree on the word ‘filth’ – I think I’ve just used it so much in this context, and because it appears on a blog which openly glories in it (the reason I was keen on this guest post when the author suggested it to me was purely because it was a very different perspective!) I reckon it’s OK here.
Humans do kill for food – we kill for lots of reasons. But the reason I used it as an example was to demonstrate just how simplistic and unhelpful evolutionary psychology often is. Sure, we’re driven by a lot of instincts that we may have evolved, but have also developed society and ethics and all the other things that distinguish us from our ancestors who’d bludgeon each other and fuck all comers. I don’t think it’s particularly helpful to look at sex (or food, or anything for that matter) in simplistic evolutionary terms, for precisely this reason.
Finally, thanks for the link to your blog! I think that’s a really interesting comparison – I am frequently torn between thinking ‘we place way too much importance on sexual monogamy’ and thinking ‘argh but I want this dude all to myself and so I can see why he wants me all to himself’. I look forward to reading the English version of your blog, as there’s loads to explore within this topic!
I have a lot to say about how evolutionary psychology has been used as a means to promote our cultural biases about e.g. women’s desire being attachment-driven as ‘inherited from evolution’ through tricky tautological reasoning. But I’ll say it in my blog. Thanks for the encouragement. I’ll keep you posted.