One of the first things I did when I arrived in Australia in mid-February was to fuck my brains out.

In a period of about three weeks, I cycled through five different men. It felt dirty. It felt mechanical. It felt good. It filled a void in my senses. I wanted to feel someone’s heart beat next to mine again. I wanted the warmth of a human body in my bed. I wanted to “be close to someone, to have someone in me, to feel desirable, lovable, fuckable.” I wanted the intimacy, however superficial and cheaply paid for by my body. I wanted someone pounding in me - over and over again - as if exorcising a spirit that refuses to go away on its own.

And then, I felt empty.

—

If I started etching a notch in my bed-frame for every man with whom I have sex here in Canberra, I think the bed will collapse in a few months. I’ve “tricked” at least nine men since I arrived (”at least” because there may be one or two that I may have already forgotten!). I never had such luck when I was living in the UK, but I wasn’t really looking then. I was in a committed relationship then.

I did a quick count while I was bored stiff in a workshop today. I’ve had sex with 22 23 men (whom I can clearly recall) so far, sex being defined as anything more than just kissing and involving at least a blow job. There may be up to 7 men that I may have done something with whom I can’t remember at all, i.e. I have had sex with no more than 30 men in my entire life. I am seriously underperforming the “gay average”. I don’t know exactly what the gay average is, but I would hazard a guess that it runs into three digits!

—

A gay man I slept with on Sunday raved incessantly, and I mean incessantly, about my very “nice legs”. Another I recently had encounters with was mesmerised by my “soft hands”. Others have commented, variously, about my eyes or my lips. Rice Queens can generally be expected to say something about slim bodies or smooth skin.

It seems to me that gay men are no less prone than straight men to being fixated, seriously fixated, on particular body parts as sources of sexual attraction and/or arousal, i.e. the legs, the lips, the eyes, slim body or smooth skin are the gay man’s corollary to the straight man’s boobs.

I find it slightly weird…

[For the uninitiated a Rice Queen is a (generally) white man who likes Asian men, where Asian is generally understood as being East Asian as opposed to South Asian. Conversely, a Potato Queen is an Asian who likes white men. Asian men who like Asian men are known as Sticky Rice.]

Posted on April 30th, 2005 by jl
Filed under: Life's gay!