A Bathroom Blowjob

I’d never witnessed a prelude to public sex before Sunday.  Preludes to private sex, yes – but public? Never.

I was at one of those fantastic restaurant/pub deals, and the establishment was almost deserted save for myself, my friend, and a table of loud, rowdy, drunk 20-somethings.  They were doing shots of tequila. 

Odd for a restaurant.  Even odder for a Sunday night. 

However, I once drank myself retarded (and $100 poorer) at a Boston Pizza on a weeknight when I was 19 – so who am I to judge?

One guy was a loud-mouth bastard.  He was obnoxious and vulgar (and not in a good way).  He had an off-putting fratboy quality about him.  He punctuated every sentence with a loud “fuck!”  He believed his stories about benders and epic hangovers to be genuinely enticing (they weren’t special or original).  He bragged about his spending habits (which is never a dignified thing to do). 

However, he had a fan.  She might have been his girlfriend.  I couldn’t be sure.

They didn’t seem particularly cuddly or intimate in that “exclusive couple” kind-of-way.  He didn’t have his arm around her, and she wasn’t leaning into him.  However, when their companions left to go smoke outside, they turned and started kissing. 

Since the restaurant was empty, I could make out parts of their whispered conversation.  I managed to overhear – and I’m paraphrasing – “if we don’t do something about this soon I’m going to have to leave and jerk-off.”

That caught my attention.

I, being of a naturally salacious disposition, strained to over-hear the erotic exchange.  It ended abruptly, with the obnoxious fratboy grabbing the girl’s hand and pulling her towards the washroom.

I started an irritating running commentary at that point.  I told my friend what they were doing and where they were going, and guessed (out loud) at what they’d do in the men’s restroom.

A quickie against a wall?

A blowjob?

Probably a blowjob, we concluded. 

10 minutes (if not less) later, the couple emerged.  The guy was grinning and sweating like a pig.  Well, not like a pig per se – but there was visible moisture upon his brow.  He had an awkward half-erection.  The kind that flops around at half-mast.  He continuously pawed at his balls on his way back to the table.

I think he caught me staring, but I don’t think he cared. 

I suppose that, if I were a loud-mouthed bastard, I’d sneer at those unlucky enough not to receive random oral sex in public washrooms. 

Nothing but a little public copulation to make an ordinary evening that much more memorable. 

On another note, I had two disturbing dreams last night that have plagued me all day.  Both were vaguely sexual, yet extremely telling. I’ll hope for no future encores come nightfall. 

Hot Slutz!

There’s a nightly process your mind performs to dispose of mental excess.  It’s kind of a psychological elimination of sorts, I think.  It’s commonly referred to as “dreaming”, and everybody does it (and those who say they don’t are either lying or forgetful). 

I think dreaming works as a trash-removal mechanism, condensing your daily thoughts into non-sensical images and playing them one last time before firing them from your psyche.

Last night, I had an incredibly strange dream in which I was aggressively fooling around with another woman – only I was a short, brown-haired man.  She was tiny and meek, with a kind of kitten-ish cuteness about her.  She didn’t know what she was doing, and relied entirely on me to lead and initiate.

I don’t think this dream was about gender confusion or control issues, but rather about a book I saw at Chapters earlier that evening when I was shopping for a birthday present for my mother (the most non-sexual thing one can do).  This is a bit of a roundabout segue, but hear me out. 

For one of my classes last year, I wrote a slapdash feature on porn.  It was rushed, and therefore not the magnum opus of my academic career – but it did get me thinking, reading and researching.

A lot of the literature I found on porn worked to condemn or sternly criticize it. It’s a topic that cannot be objectively addressed, mostly because it deals with sex (and we know how objective people are about that).  More specifically, it deals with selling sex as a forbidden but commonly desired commodity (which it is).  Porn consists of “dirty” pictures, stories, videos, etc.  It’s designed to arouse – and somehow this is problematic for a vast number of social groups.

No one cares that food is designed to satiate hunger, but people do care that porn is, more often than not, designed to quench (temporarily, of course) sexual thirst.  Though sex is dealt with constantly in the mainstream media, it’s still a paradoxially taboo topic. 

How much is too much?  Are girl’s clothes too scandalous? Are strip clubs bad for marriages? Is sex on TV causing teen pregnancies? Is raunchy pop-culture fostering misogyny in men and low self-esteem in women?

Everyone has a socio-political opinion about porn.  Some feminists say it encourages rape, battery and chauvinism.  Some pro-family groups say it’s responsible for adultery, sexual dysfunction and broken marriages. Some church groups say it taints the mortal soul. Pro-porn advocates fall back on First Amendment rhetoric – it’s merely titillating art, and should be protected under anti-censorship laws. 

The book I found at Chapters, though short, dares to say that porn is exactly what you make of it.  It looks at the hysteria surrounding the genre, and examines what attitudes and ideas contribute to making porn what it is today. 

I’ve always thought of a porn as a manifestation of societal attitudes about sex.  If it contains misogyny, it’s not because it has a vested interest in woman-hating.  It contains misogyny because there’s a prevalent social attitude about women who have and enjoy non-traditional and/or indiscriminate sex.  If porn depicts sex as dirty, it’s because it exists in a world that sees it as such. 

There’s a lot of porn out there, and it caters to every kink and fetish you can imagine.  However, it’s designed to titillate people into masturbating – its purpose is purely sexual and self-serving.  It’s a leg up for one’s existing fantasies.  It fleshes out arousing ideas, albeit in an exaggerated fashion. 

It takes common cultural fascinations (large breasts, large penises, submissive partners, dominant partners, ridiculous lingerie, etc), exploits the “forbidden fruit” appeal of each, and immortalizes them on film or in print.  People then respond – often enthusiastically.

Still, sexual material isn’t something people are entirely comfortable with – even though many consume it.  So people talk about it being addictive, detrimental and dangerous.  Perhaps, in the hands of the wrong creator and consumer, it can be.  It can be violent, distasteful and obscene.  It can also be playful, funny and amusing.  Some people have inherently harmful attitudes about sex (including misogynistic ones), therefore some porn will reflect those beliefs.

Porn cannot be “fixed.” Strictly regulating or outright banning it won’t end violence against women, infidelity, divorce, or sexual dysfunction.  That said, porn that displays actual non-consensual (or otherwise coerced) abuse should be monitored (if such a thing is indeed possible).  But negative attitudes about sex and sexuality pre-date the rise of Internet pornography, and they’ll continue to exist should every XXX site cease to exist tomorrow (perish the thought!). 

Last night, I thought about porn.  I thought about porn and feminism, and porn and religion, and porn and relationships, and porn and fantasy.  Despite my critical approach to the subject, I still had a fucked-up dream about being a man dominating a coyly submissive young thing.  At the end of the day, you just can’t rationalize desire or one’s conception of it.  You can only hope that you and others will express it in an ethical, dignified manner.

Perhaps if attitudes about sex were more ethical and fair (not irresponsibly hedonistic), porn would reflect that. 

 Until then, well, enjoy your facial you dirty whore .