Wednesday, 27 March 2013

What's Your Type?

What kind of man do you lust over?  Is it a smooth, buff gym bunny, or a hairy bear?  Do you like twinks or daddies?  Or does your type not fit easily into any one box?  You like a hairy twink?  Well, I think those are called otters.  So what would you call a smooth, hairless daddy?  When I hit the bars, I tend to go to the leather bars, under the (usually true) assumption that these men will be kinky.  But what of the college jock who likes to be tied up?  So often I judge a man’s sexual tendencies by his outward appearance.  But, perhaps that’s a fox in sheep’s clothing that you’re looking at.

I’m finding that my so-called type has more to do with what’s in a man’s head than the body that head is on.  Meaning, are we on the same page sexually.  But when I watch porn, it’s so often of the thirtyish year old muscle bear variety.  Coincidentally or not, that is the type that I would fall into.  And yet...

Today I took my sister to a theater production celebrating International Woman’s Day.  I wouldn’t have thought that there I would find myself sitting behind a startling attractive man, sitting alone.  He was not a muscle bear.  He was a clean cut jockish type who frighteningly reminded me of my first love.  In high school I’d fallen for Jack.  Jack was straight, voted MVP on any sports team he was on.  He was also extraordinarily nice, and we developed a slight friendship, though he was a grade ahead.  The man in the audience today threw me back to high school with a velocity that bit me like a snake.  I felt lust mixed with two other emotions: a need for love and a sense that I would never have it because I was somehow unworthy.  I felt both propelled toward him and away from him at the same time, because my heart sensed danger.  In that moment, I wanted the pure lust of my pornographic muscle bears where sexually I was free and emotionally I was safe.

I began to wonder how I would behave sexually with a man like the one I saw today.  I began to wonder if I could fuck the one I love, or are the two notions divided for me in much the same way some straight men suffer from the Madonna/Whore syndrome (ie. they want the mother of their children to be pure and chaste, and to have a hardcore slut secretly on the side whom they would never marry).

The trouble for me is that when love begins to enter this heart of mine, I begin right away to fear its loss, leaving me feeling ungrounded.  How then, could I play the dom and sexually assert myself with a beloved when it would appear that he holds all the cards due to my ingrained insecurities?   And at my age, without a true relationship already under my belt, just a few short affairs, has the chance for love passed me by?  I tend to see myself as a lone wolf, but that house of cards comes tumbling down when I see a man like the one I did today.  But let’s be real:  I don’t know the man.  Perhaps he is a jerk, perhaps he has kinks that would never click with mine.  What I felt today was what our culture refers endearingly to as love at first sight.  How is it that the molecules that make up that person can cause my own body’s molecules to frantically start rearranging themselves?  How do we develop a type in the first place?  I try to ape the type of guy that attracts me (again, the muscle bears).  What of the men who are interested in types directly in opposition to their own?

“He’s not my type.” “What’s your type?”  Statements and questions such as these are short.  The answers are not.


  1. There's a lot to think about on this one, Jason!

    You described me totally when you were talking about the guy in the theater. The battle there is the same as being on the verge of actually hooking up with a guy online and really wanting to turn on the videos and be safe. I usually rationalize passing up getting together with a guy as being "too much trouble," when in's just fear.

    As for type...years ago a very proper "queen" in a gay-friendly southern city said, "the men you meet the first six months you are out in the gay world are the ones you'll apologize for the rest of your life." He was right...after realizing that I did not have to go to bed with somebody that I wasn't sexually attracted to just because they wanted me to, I learned to say 'no' to the ones I wasn't turned on by. My 'type' evolved over time, but the men that I slept with were nothing like the ones I had been apologizing to myself for. I was turned on to guys who were like the me that I wanted to be. I guess the best way to describe my type would be 'compact.' On the shorter side, not necessarily muscular but not any more overweight than I am, and resting on top of a pair of dynamite legs. It turns out that I was the man that was my type. I was turned onto me. hhhmmm...another elucidation on the solosexual psyche!

    ...on to the second response:

  2. "Can I fuck the one I love?" I know I can't. Three long-term relationships; three non-sexual partners. After six months of "behaving" sexually with the new love-of-my-life, my solosexuality rises to the surface, and my kinky side is tired of being on hiatus. The relationship continues, but the sex stops. In all cases, it is mutually understood, and it has worked out. Two 9-year, and one 15-year relationships pretty much prove that you can be with the one you love without fucking them...or doing anything else with them sexually, for that matter. I must have the Madonna/whore syndrome, as well.

    OK, so I know that I could have been totally honest and open about my solosexuality and kinkiness. I wasn't, but there's a fairly good reason for that. I had no idea what solosexuality was, and in a southern town in the 70's and 80's, kinks were accidentally discovered, not openly discussed or displayed. If there is ever a reason for a fourth relationship to develop, I'll be a lot smarter about stuff!

    And no...the chance for love has not passed you by. I thought after my second relationship ended at the age of 40 that I wouldn't ever be able to find another one. And then, when I was 43 I met this guy who is happily snoring away in the bedroom. It can happen to you. Just be up front with them. If they recoil in horror at the thought of sexual reality, you don't need them anyway.

    1. Rod, you offer such good advice here, better than Dear Abby! And you openly state two truisms: That avoiding a hookup is often fear based and that kinks are rarely discussed openly for fear of rejection by a partner, or society. It's very easy, I've discovered, to write a sex blog and let it all hang out for my Readers. But to share my kinks with a new partner? Or with friends in my life? What a challenge. Rod, thanks - you gave ME lots to think about......Jason