How I hate gay sex, let me count the ways
http://www.expressbuzz.com/edition/story.aspx?Title=How+I+hate+gay+sex%2c+let+me+count+the+ways&artid=VQoTSD7vJNo%3d&SectionID=f4OberbKin4%3d&MainSectionID=w44iAeuGCu8%3d&SectionName=cxWvYpmNp4fBHAeKn3LcnQ%3d%3d&SEO=gay


Ashley Tellis First Published : 29 Mar 2009 09:12:00 AM ISTLast Updated : 28
Mar 2009 09:52:41 AM IST

If it is difficult enough to be gay in India, it is even more difficult to
have gay sex. I mean good gay sex, which seems, from where I’m standing (pun
intended), to be a bit of an oxymoron. I’ve more or less given up having sex
with men. I now am firmly only notionally gay, politically gay for sure, but
not sexually gay.
I said more or less because I do occasionally run out and have sex because I
fear the Catholic moral police I grew up with has gotten into me and the
real reason I’m not having sex is because, deep down inside of me, I think
it is wrong or bad to do men. To disprove that possibility, I run out and
find myself some stuff. It usually is so bad that I come back completely
convinced that I am completely gay alright, but that I just cannot tolerate
having any more bad sex in my life.
To be sure, sex is easy to get. I firmly believe there is no such thing as a
heterosexual man in India. By which, of course, I do not naively believe
they are all gay. It is just that any Indian man, with a little provocation
and the right circumstances, just a little ambience and some basic
intoxication, will unzip himself for some gay action. No do I believe in
this naïve behaviour/identity dichotomy that NGOs peddle. I have had enough
sex with enough men who are also, in complicated, messy, entangled,
beautiful and damaged ways, in love with me and I with them. We are in bad
intersubjective relationships as much as in behaviourally bad sex. So, what
is bad about the sex?
Well, firstly, they more or less all don’t kiss. I’m sorry but that sucks
(or rather there is no sucking of mouths, which sucks). Kissing, as Freud
tells us, is one of the most deeply
intersubjective, sexual and beautiful thing two people can do and all it
takes is two mouths. Yet these guys won’t have any of it. “Nahi, yaar,
feeling aa jati hai,” says one to me. Another says he does not even kiss
women when he does them and that is
supposed to make me feel better. Go online and you have men telling you they
will not kiss, will not give you oral sex even as you must perform it for
them, will not let you have intercourse with them even as they want to do
you. It makes you want to say, as I have said many times, ‘Go find a dog
instead!’ Or a hole in the wall.
In bed, they are unwashed (so I have to carry my smegma kit everywhere I go
and I wonder why this is not a fast-selling product in the market. I must
consider an alternative career in marketing and selling it), have foul
breath and are deeply selfish and concentrate only on their own desires. All
I do is serve, go down, come up, turn around. I guess why I have not had
anal sex ever and only allowed men frottage-based sex is because I fear the
tremendous violence of it all. How will these barbaric, awful and
insensitive men roger me? If so many young heterosexual Indian women are at
the doctors’ with vaginal injuries
because of brutal boyfriends socialised
sexually on porn, then these, after all, are the same men doing me, so no
thanks! I may one day be into anal sex, but I am certainly not into anal
injuries.
Then, once they come, they put on their clothes in a flash and are gone,
never to see you again, even though the online ones claim to want friends
for life and not be really interested in sex and sex alone. Not that I have
anything against sex and sex alone (whatever that means, because, as I have
been arguing, there is no such thing). My point is, why the pretence? Even
though the ones I pick off the roads become friends and lovers and might do
it again, though nothing really will change about the sex.
So, no more sex for me, for the moment. I’m post-sex, post-gay and not
really missing it at all. Though, ethical slut that I am, I live
in hope. The hope that one day I will have some good, old-fashioned sex that
will make me smile.

-- 





-- 
Ranjit

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