Hands-free masturbation

I can’t believe that I joined one of those online dating agencies last week.  And only a year after the last time. 

Suddenly I am inundated by the virtual kisses of people who want to treat me to candle-lit dinners and empty moonlit beaches.  Yeah, right. But I’ve been there, I’m afraid.  And I know what we’ll talk about over those romantic dinners and evening strolls beside the water: fucking house renovations.  And in the morning I’ll end up at the hardware store looking for tools I never heard of to do jobs that my teachers told me I could avoid if I got an education. 

So, I’m taking my profile off the net again.  There has to be another way to find love.  Short of buying it, that is.

 

 Not that I have ever bought love.  OK, let’s not be coy here.  For a start, you can’t buy love or talent or virtue or anything else actually worth having.  But you can buy sex and I have never bought sex.   

That is, I have never paid money for sex; we all pay for sex in some way.  Sometimes you see it, sometimes you don’t.  You just have to accept it like you do when you walk out of a used car yard – it doesn’t matter what deal you think you got, you know you just got screwed. 

Anyway, back to sex and the purchase thereof.  I do not have anything against paying for sex per se other than the fact that it is rarely sold by those with power, which suggests to me that buying sex is probably about exploitation.  But that is another story and that is not the reason that I have never paid for sex.   

Although perhaps I wish it was. 

The fact is, while I am quite comfortable to suspect my sexual partner is lying, I just can’t relax knowing that they’re lying.  Of course, the whole nature of human intercourse, sexual and social, is one of lying e.g. “I’ll always love you.”  “Your hair looks nice.”  “No, this dress is not new; I bought it on sale months ago.”  The list is infinite.  

But paying for sex is to knowingly buy into the lie without even the remotest hope of love, without the slimmest possibility of happiness.  Just hands-free masturbation performed to someone else’s script.  And a pretty clichéd script, it is (so I’m told). 

I can’t perform like that, just can’t suspend my belief for that long.   

And anyway, I’ve lived long enough to learn this; that the things you buy became stuff; but the things you’re given became treasures.  

That is, of course, with the exception of sexually transmitted diseases. 

Of course, I could just stay as I am; lonely but with complete control of the TV remote.  Maybe it really is true what they say: that there’s someone in the world for everyone and, if you’re lucky, you miss them.

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6 Comments

Filed under humour, life, Love, masturbation, sex

6 responses to “Hands-free masturbation

  1. I don’t believe that there is a “someone” who is right for each of us. I think there is a reasonable number of people we can get along with, a much smaller number we can be ecstatically happy with and a much bigger number we can be disastrously unhappy with.

    On the face of it, everyone’s ambition is to find one in the first two categories but seeing how many people end up with disastrous partners, not once but time and time again, makes me suspect we have other agendas albeit ones we are not aware of.

    When I was a child, I wondered why love and sex went together and whether in fact they needed to. When I grew up, the answer became obvious: love and sex obviously go together. Now I am older still, I have reverted to my childhood questions, seeing that though sex and love often go together, they often do not, without prejudice to either.

    Maybe it’s back to the old advice: know yourself. For if you don’t, who does?

  2. To be perfectly honest, and even though I love Mr. Ladypirate, ownership of the remote control is an enviable luxury! I sometimes miss the loneliness of being alone (as opposed to the loneliness of being with someone) and (as you know, having been married) sometimes the compromises turn out to be sacrifices neither of you is willing to make or accept. At the moment, for example, it looks like I’ve a tough decision ahead of me: Mr. Ladypirate or a PhD. So there’s something to be said for living lonely and free . . . everything shared costs something, whether it be love or just sex (a triumverate of pain).

  3. I would like to add to the sensitive comments from Silvertiger and ladypirate. Pull yourself together and stop being soft .The last thing you need at a time like this is sensitive friends. What you need is white goods or booze.

  4. Doktor Holocaust

    I place no faith in online dating services: no computer algorhythm can screw my life up half as good as I can on my own.

    I’ve also reached a point where love, romance, and sex with other people all seem like big, expensive, drama-intensive hassles that I’m much happier without. It helps that my list girlfriend had the foresight to be cruel enough and violent enough to break me of my girlfriend-seeking habits. I never did get around to sending her a thank-you card for that…

  5. S

    What an interesting way to put it – “…paying for sex is to knowingly buy into the lie without even the remotest hope of love, without the slimmest possibility of happiness.” Though I wish I could say that I were on the same page as you, my being jaded about the subject of love hinders my ability to share your optimism.

    That said, as someone who does enjoy the occasional casual sex, there is something about the thought of paying for it that leaves a bad taste in my mouth. I can’t quite put a finger on it, but it is perhaps related to your point about it all being feigned happiness. The whole industry of buying sex is just sad to me, and the thought that there’s a need for that industry to exist is perhaps what aids my being jaded about the notion of love.

    I do applaud you for being much braver than I ever could be, for I don’t believe that I could ever be lonely enough to allow myself to subscribe to some sort of dating service – be it online, speed dating, personal ads, or otherwise.

  6. And anyway, I’ve lived long enough to learn this; that the things you buy became stuff; but the things you’re given became treasures.

    That is, of course, with the exception of sexually transmitted diseases

    Oh that is fantastic writing…….from the intake of breath to the laugh.

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