After the Orgasm: Intimacy and the Emotional Side of Sex
What are we really looking for in all the blow jobs, orgies, and chat rooms?Do we care about the men we fuck, about ourselves?
What is sex really about for you?
We asked readers to share how they feel about crystal, sex and their search for connection with other men.
Here are their stories:
Sex is the only thing that is important to me. It's like eating only sugar. It may fill me up, but I starve anyway. I crave attachment, connection. But I fear it. At 3 am when the loneliness becomes unbearable, a quarter and a cock are only a website or phone call away. We're all just lost souls in a stream of endless nights. All alone in an orgy of writhing, naked, sweaty bodies.
This is the only time when it's OK to be a pig about getting what you want. In other words, needing and being needed. It's the only time when it's OK that men want parts of each other-fists, breasts, feces, cocks--rather than wholes. That's the basic truth. Crystal just lets you need and need and need, and that's OK. We all got so repressed after AIDS and now we're hungry. Crystal lets me pig out without feeling bad about it. It's also a chemistry thing. Just seeing another guy on speed makes me surge. And the click is so intense that it's easy to forget "condom this" or "boyfriend that." The nastier you are about your sexual perversions, the more you're accepted. Crystal equalizes us all to our lowest common hungers.
I don't really know what "fear of intimacy" means. They say we speed queens have a problem with intimacy. Well, if we didn't feel so shunned by our own so-called gay "community," maybe we wouldn't have to go looking for acceptance in a baggie. I feel more embraced by some guy sucking me off in the park than I do standing along some Pride Parade route. Do I know this guy's name? Do I care? Well, he doesn't either. Some people think that crystal users are just mean, soulless, spiteful ass-fuckers, but I don't see how that's different from most gay men. We fuck each other for days on end. They just go home at 2 am.
I yearn for someone to really care about me for me. My first hit of speed made me feel like everyone cared about me. I not only cared about myself, but I felt like a God. Eventually, I didn't feel at all. Caring turned to numbness. Numbness turned to loathing. Now I hate myself. And I hate the fact that, if you beg me to shit on your face or fuck your ass till it's raw, it seems like a perfectly natural thing to do. None of us really cares about any of us, especially after the drugs run out.
Do I get high and have sex as a way to feel closer to men? Of course not. No one really thinks that's going to happen. It's just about sending our dicks to another planet and back, that's all. It's just about sex. I've got my sister, my cat, my best friend Nate if I want to feel close to someone. I care deeply about them and they really love me. I'd be stupid to think I could get that from some late night fuck at the baths. I guess some guys might think crystal creates a special little social group for them, but they're in for a nasty wake up. You've got to look somewhere else if you want to find someone or something meaningful.
Did you know that I'm from Minnesota and that my mom teaches English? Did you know that I like Thai food, hate chocolate, and have a cat named Murphy who can dance on his hind paws? No. You were probably too busy sucking my cock to ask. Do we feel connected? Just because we share the same dealer doesn't mean we feel connected.
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