Men from my generation of gay-shaded men (and surely it happens even now) would meet a bloke, rut like crazed weasels, and part. A purely animal lust. Let me say at once that there is nothing wrong with lust. We treat sex dichotomously: it is either sacred (the most sacred being marriage between a man and a women) or it is profane (a random pick-up at a bar; opening your legs for any man;taking it up the bum.) This split derives from religion (St Augustine, in particular.) The religious horror of pleasure for pleasure's sake is a Christian invention. Sex within marriage is sanctified (though even there, the Catholic church still teaches that if a man lusts after his wife, he is committing a sin) because its purpose, supposedly, is for the procreation of children, not for anything so revolting and immoral as pleasure.
We are supposed to feel bad about profane sex, and uplifted about sacred sex. Just take a quick look at all the ads and stories about marriage in women's magazines. Marriage is the ultimate goal of sex. Man and wife can fuck all day, and their friends and parents smile indulgently. But any other form of sex, ending with male-to-male sex at the bottom of the rankings, is 'disgusting', 'dirty', 'immoral' to varying degrees. Yet it's the same part A into slot B. In one set of circumstances it's desirable, wonderful, ecstatic and uplifting. In another it's grubby or worse. Huh? And this entirely confected vision of 'good' sex and 'evil' sex contaminates and spoils all forms of sex, even the holy matrimony kind, because it means you always have to be careful to keep your actual sex uplifting. By doing it in the dark perhaps? Or only in the missionary position? Oral sex is profane. Anal sex evil. But the missionary position is sanctioned … by the Lord.
This nonsense is especially pernicious to gay relationships. We struggle against the silent or noisy disapproval of society, but these unsaid and implicit values make us doubt ourselves, even if we are not aware of it.
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