vendredi, juillet 27, 2007

One man's "fun"

Hang out on an Internet dating site for any length of time, and you'll find out that words you thought you knew the meaning of since elementary school acquire a whole new meaning when it comes to male-female communication.

I've had a few conversations with swingers (men involved in the world of alternative sex)-a sexual category of which I was almost completely ignorant before I signed on to a dating website.

What I quickly realized is that even though the permutations and combinations are dautingly complicated to those of us not in the know, those who practice alternative sex (orgies, threesomes, don't ask if you don't want to know) have rituals and language as complex as any other social milieu.

Not to mention double jointed gifts for which swingers don't get enough credit-for Pete's sake, how many of you have really taken a look at some of those manuals?

Take the word "fun." I know now that "fun" doesn't denote getting together for a chocolate malt at the diner. "Fun" can take place in the backseats of cars, in secluded glades, a deux or in a quartet.

Thus I should have been more cautious when I got a wink from a guy whose name was "Extra Activity." But no, Elizabeth, who can be a little naive, just thought he was very athletic. It wasn't until I read the paragraph in bio where he said he was looking for "safe adult fun" that I realized he wasn't talking about a jog before lunch-so I let him take a hike.

Have you been "naughty?" If you are "naughty" in the swinging world, it means you are doing something you should not be doing-and the naughtier, the better. After a while, most of the taboos have become sooo trite-then the true swinger will try to find something even 'naughtier".

My "naughty" antenna have become rather sophisticated, because for various reasons I am a tempting target. Knowing I'm like catnip to a swinger is not flattering, because I know it's not my scintillating personality they want.

But my favorite alternative word is "vanilla." The monogamous majority (ok, a lot of them are the serial monogamous majority) are vanilla.

I wasn't sure I liked this-it implied a certain conventionality that just doesn't sit well with me. On the other hand, to become chocolate, sorbet, or even Neapolitan takes a passion for secrecy, not to mention an athleticism that is beyond me right now. So until, and if, I find my inner dominatrix-I'm vanilla, and proud.

Or perhaps vanilla twist?

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