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Banging The Drum Solo

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Remember when masturbation was a dirty little secret? It was something everyone did but no one admitted to. It was spending quality time with the Palm Twins or Hands Solo. Pinching the pickle. Chocking the chicken. Polishing the pole. Stroking the salami. Whatever you called it, it was something you did when you had a little free time—and a free hand—but you didn’t discuss in polite company.

My, how things have changed: Not only is everyone taking matters into hand, they are sharing their stories, schedules and even technique. What would Miss Manners say? She would likely ask you to put that thing back in your pants and wait till you get home. Miss Manners has likely evolved with the rest of us: “Tips on Politely Pounding the Pud.”

Before we knew it, we were all sitting talking to anyone who would listen about our most intimate sexual secrets.

I’m not sure when the worm turned, so to speak, on this issue. It may have started with the Seinfeld ‘Master of My Domain’ episode. Euphemisms flew fast and furious with banter you just couldn’t beat. Suddenly, everyone was talking about being master of their domain—both men and women—while laughing and recalling scenes from the classic episode.

Then came Sex and the City. Nothing, but nothing, was out of bounds or off limits for that show: Fucking, 3-ways, blowjobs, funky spunk, anal sex, rimming all conspired to make masturbation seem like amateur night. Before we knew it, we were all sitting talking to anyone who would listen about our most intimate sexual secrets.

Turns out, the little secret we used to do in the bathroom for hours on end, has become quite the spectator sport.

Going shopping at a sex shop is as de rigueur as going to the market and thumping melons. Gone is the shame of buying a sex toy for a little mutual play or having a blush-free chat with the guy behind the counter about the different uses of different devices to satisfy your vices. It’s all out there. We can look a perfect stranger in the eye and tell them all of our personal practices when it comes to self-satisfaction.

Then there is the online experience of websites that offer cam2cam live experiences. For the uninitiated, this is where you strip off, click on and join a roomful of randy Randys in a virtual jack-of-all-time zones spank-fest. Turns out, the little secret we used to do in the bathroom for hours on end, has become quite the spectator sport.

Now, I’m not saying that all of this is a bad thing. On the contrary, I think it’s great to be able to speak freely about your sexuality and how it manifests itself with your friends, sex worker, or cashier at Priape. I think it’s amazing that the guilt that used to be attached to our sexuality is rubbing off faster than…oh, never mind. However, there may be an unintended downside.

With all this ‘shared intimacy’ and border-breaking-nut-busting for everyone to either witness or hear about, there’s a bit of an irony. While it’s easy to find a ‘bate buddy, it seems to be getting harder and harder (pun intended) to get past the palm and actually make connections that are more than solo. I have so many friends and acquaintances who are love-starved. Sure, they’re getting their rocks off, but no one is reaching for their heart. Go ahead, spank that monkey…hey, do it with a friend. But remember, there’s a person attached to that pecker who may need a little stroking, too.

photo credit: Vladimir Morozov


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