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Fuck yeah.

So, sex is really fun. And easy. Not the getting, exactly, but certainly the doing. Yeah, the fucking has gotten so nice and natural feeling. But it hasn't always been that way.

A bit of back story. So back in high school, around when I first came outta the closet, I was troubled by that classical dichotomy--love versus lust. This was quickly rectified by discovering Walt Whitman and how openly he admired sex. Thus did I put aside any moral qualms about sex: sex was something beautiful and amazing to share in with another person, in which the feelings of love and passion could come together manifest and gift-like.

Isn't that just sweet? All romantic and darling. Golly, I used to be such a good kid.

It was still another 2 years or so before I fucked or got fucked; it was with my first boyfriend.

We had some--many, really--good times. But our relationship was so worried and anxious--we were so young and dumb and insecure--, and that was often reflected in the sex. It could be really fucking amazing when it worked out, which it usually did, but things were often still really frustrating. But, honestly, given the mess I was back then, I'd have had trouble sexually regardless of my partners.

For one, I was on an antidepressant notorious for sexual dysfunction. Which led to years struggling with erectile dysfunction--an obnoxiously self-begetting problem. Failing to get or maintain a boner even once is enough to start a long, embarrassing period of boner-less-woes. Especially for anxious, insecure minds--which I definitely had/have

Even besides the anxiety from relationships or non-boners, it was such a distressing bed of worry & insecurity that I was trying to get laid in. So often was I trapped in approval seeking ("Am I doing this right?" "What does he think of me?") and self-doubt ("Oh, God, I fucked that up" "Why am I so awkward?" "Do I even like this guy??") that my enjoyment was compromised badly before I could even got jiggy with someone.

But I never gave up on sex, no matter how frustrating it could too often be.

But recently that has been very different somehow. I credit personal growth, I guess. Possibly also the guys I've hooked up with/dated or our relationships or stuff. Which could still be due to growing up.

These days I guess I'm much less bothered by what I think about things or about what other people think. I guess you could say I'm more comfortable with things.

For the first time, really, I've begun to feel comfortable with the idea of flirting--in person. Like, even just smiling back at some guy I think is checking me out. And yet still not worrying whether I'm necessarily right about the other person's flirting or checking me out. You could even say I'm more confident. Even when my body isn't its best, I can still live with it; even joke in the mirror "such a sexy beast!". I've decided I have a great dick (because it is) even if I can think of "tons" of people with bigger/longer/thicker dicks than me. And all these feelings are comfortable, not forced.

The changes I've apparently gone through are most evident when I'm with the guy I've been seeing and how I've been with him. Sure, there were times I still found cause to worry; I wasn't sure what I felt or if sex was even what I wanted (who the fuck actually questions wanting sex? :P). But I guess I let go of that somehow. I always felt comfortable with him, but now I try letting myself just feel fond and friendly and warm towards him--and enjoying that--without questioning it. We'd had fun in bed but recently I began to just allow myself be me and aim to pleasure him--and enjoy it--without questioning myself.

And I realized not only was I enjoying things as they were and all, but I my dick was all happy and hard, too. It just would be--no worrying. Like, nowadays I can be that guy who gets a bit hard wherever he may be by simply thinking about sex or a guy he's into or the things he wants to do with him.

I'm not sure how much any of that is due to my personal change or my choice of partners/attitude as it reflects those changes. Either way, it feels pretty rad.

See, for what feels like the first time ever, I can be the guy I always wanted to be: I can live up to those ideas I translated from Walt Whitman about sex and relations. The sense of beauty and wonderment that's so carefree but, only as one wants it to be, meaningful. And that itself is pretty gratifying--in addition to how much more fun sex has become lately.

Sex can be whatever I want it to be--manifesting feelings of love and warmth and fun and eagerness. What feels like the first time in a wearyingly long time, I can say with certainty sex is something really awesome.


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