There was always casual sex, no matter how the prudes wrinkled their noses and shouted “never” to the puritans. Freud also said that a person is driven by three motives – power, sex, and hunger. Rather, even two – sex and hunger, because the thirst for power one way or another is realized both in sex and with the help of sex.
And if in the 60s, 70s and 90s casual sex was a component of the life credo “sex-drugs-rock-n-roll” – a meeting in a bar, at a concert, an apartment building, seasoned with booze or a joint, brought bodies and souls together for an hour or for the night. And the 2000s replaced the rocker and hippie romance with a pragmatic pickup truck, the purpose of which is sex for the sake of a bonus, for the account, for the sake of victory. Now I am seeing such an interesting phenomenon as random express sex on the Internet.
The pickup truck is hopelessly obsolete because even it involves minimal effort to lure the subject into the bedroom. The victim is selected, heaped up, and tempted by standard tricks.
“Down with effort” is the motto of our time
On apps like Badu or Tinder, meet up for sex are offered right after “Hi, how are you?”. Men and women with one or two photos, without wasting time on minimal communication, offer each other: “Shall we meet at my place or at yours?”
And this is not express dating at all but expresses sex. But what’s next? Here he is ringing at her door. Or she is in his. They will see each other for the first time. So what? After all, we all know and we won’t be fine-hearted that the first sex, even with someone you know and who you like, is rarely good. Simply because it has the stiffness and uncertainty of novelty.
There is no adjustment to each other. And there is nothing at all. Strangers between whom there is no spark, no chemistry, but “hello, I’m Vasya” – “Come in, undress, the bedroom is right down the corridor.” Will such sex be pleasant? Or is it not about quality, but about quantity? Maybe somewhere they accept bets on men or women, like on horses?
It’s one thing when you are offered to visit at home 25-year-old males, who in the photo immediately have 6 pack abs, and a tan, sometimes the main child-making organ – a good face, let’s say so.
Another thing is when ordinary men aged 40+ offer the same thing – when the press is overgrown with nerves, the head – on the contrary, flew around like a tree in autumn, and what is done in the body is generally a lottery. I don’t know what happens in the female half, I’m still a girl, but there is always symmetry in such phenomena. So, women invite and offer. Only, women, unlike men, still love games with photos and age, and often imagine themselves online 10 years younger and 10 kg lighter than the real one.
You say: “Such casual and quick sex is no different from sex for money”
And there, and there, a man meets a woman whom he does not know and sees briefly, or does not see at all, no chemistry, no attraction, solid physics. But in the case of paid sex, money turns a man into a client. And the customer is always right, as you know. A woman is served as compensation for any male features and desires. That is, money acts as a protection for both parties, which allows you to maintain self-esteem.
There is no such protection in casual non-commercial sex. Therefore, partners are left face to face with all the risks and fears.
It is clear that everyone sometimes wants sex, just sex, to relax easily.
And not all this pre-sexual ritual fuss or painful after-sex – “Will you call me again?”, “Are we in a relationship now?”, But such a utilitarian approach to one’s own and someone else’s body not only impoverishes and devalues sex itself, it becomes only genital contact, but yet … He adds complexes.
No matter how men swagger “yes, we are cool”, “everything is simple with us”, “sex is just a matter of technique and experience”, in the offices of sexologists and psychotherapists, they tell completely different stories. And, most importantly, they are asked to save them from sexual dysfunctions, from the fear of impotence, from the skewed perception of a woman (“She’s the mother of my children, how can I fuck her!?” or “She’s fucking, so everything is possible with her” ). And they pay a lot of money for it. Those that saved on sex. And they make an effort. Those that also saved on sex. On choosing a partner.
Actually, the casual one-time sex itself is dictated by fear.
There is a good film about male sexholism – “Shame” by Steve McQueen. Its main character, Brandon, played by Michael Fassbender is young, successful, and handsome. And also sick. He is a sexaholic. Porn films, magazines, masturbation, promiscuous sex with promiscuous partners – that’s what his life is filled with. And there are no misfires with any of the random partners. But when Brandon gets into bed with Marion, the woman he truly likes, he can’t do anything. Brandon, this uninterrupted sex machine, “doesn’t have to” in vain. Because after sex, with someone you like, intimacy can arise. She evokes fear.
In unison with him, Lars von Trier’s film “Nymphomaniac” tells us about a sexaholic woman. For the main character, Jo, it all starts with a game – promiscuous sex is used more as a way of protest than pathology. Against the double standards of his family, against the double standards of society. However, further, the game is addictive and turns into a disease. When you can’t stop, changing casual partners, sex becomes more and more dangerous and traumatic forms.
There are also images from literature – and Don Juan, Lovelace, and Casanova. Their names have long become common nouns for men who seduced many women and gave them all unearthly pleasure. Of these three characters, only one – Casanova – is more or less a real historical figure. But who will confirm whether these numerous women were and whether their pleasure was unearthly – everything is limited only by the fantasies of the authors of the legends.
Of course, I am far from thinking that all these bad or Tinder rascals are sexaholics. Or nymphomaniacs. Or Kazanova. Rather, they are light versions, caricatures, and parodies. Or unhappy, in general, people.
Because between casual sex with the first person you meet and sex with obligations to live happily ever after and die on the same day, there is a whole palette of shades and relationships.
And also feelings. And for the sake of this palette it is worth taking a risk, but without coming to the house of a stranger from Tinder. Take the risk of getting to know the other person. And show him yourself. Maybe you might like it?
