Awkward

Gay! Sex!! Blog!!! Why, it's yetanothermore blog that strays from the cerebellum to the bedroom... but as always, gentle reader it is/is not what you expect.

Busy busy cheerful fairy ever, Fella and I social butterflies of Strumpetville, were with eight or so friends in the Black Prince in Kennington, enjoying a lovely lunch and a boozy afternoon that became, as these things will, more lively, bawdy and entertainingly frisky. Each of us was prompted to ask a question that others must, but must, answer candidly.

Example: what is the most bizarre inanimate object you have introduced into your sex life? Answer: electric toothbrush [don't ask - and you'll never guess ;-) ].

So, then; round and round it goes, where it stops nobody knows. Where it stops is, it turns out:

"What is the greatest number of people you have slept with in a day?"

Ah. Fella: X, the ladies round the table: Y, the other gay men: Y plus one or two. But for me it's XX.

So, the Cheerful fairy becomes a coward once more and in grand defiance of this URL declines to answer.

Ah.

XX isn't X by X... except now I think of it, it is. And the whole point of this, before it begins to look like I'm bragging, is - this is the first time I have been reticent about my sex life. I mean, coming out and exploring my sexuality publicly, as it were, is/was something I am very proud of.

God only knows I kept International coming back by using my well learned tricks. Then again that was a relationship based on sex [which perhaps, this is why I never cried that much about it]. But with Fella we have of course something more and less. Madonna-Whore-gay? Well, it is and it isn’t. An active and varied sex life is an important part, crucial even, of my... life. But I have a certain reticence about it. I don’t think it’s classy to talk about it.

Anyway, the thing about it is this. I like what I like(d) and while that’s not on the table that doesn’t mean I really want to brag in front of my fiancé that I have enjoyed my groups, parties and other events. Group sex is my favourite thing. BUT I don’t mind giving it up. I remember it fondly, to be sure, but with Fella there is something else. And it is a good thing.
So... is it prurient reticence? Embarrassment? A sense of maturity even ethanol cannot dissolve? Dunno. I suppose as relationships emerge and evolve one’s attitude to one’s attitudes and remembrances evolve too. What was good becomes awkward; memories gain a new hue. But I think it’s important not to neglect how being gay can radically change even when you are properly gay, and quite unexpectedly too.