ErosWired

You are undoubtedly correct, especially in the sense that it’s a means to a necessary end like putting food on the table or paying for an education But at the same time, all work is, by definition, a means to an end. What I’m doing in this hotel right now is a means to a very specific end - I just sent Top number seven back out into the world with a sense of satisfaction, pleasure and release, his tension and stress reduced, and his life that little bit more tolerable. That is the end I work toward. The means is my cunt. The fact that it isn’t a loathsome task to me doesn’t necessarily mean it isn’t work; work doesn’t have to be unpleasant to count as a job. So while there are obvious differences between the work of a compensated sex worker and someone like myself, I still contemplate the similarities. I think part of what makes me wonder is that I imagined that a prostitute, in my position, my say “Leave the money on the table”. But once that’s done, I wondered how the prostitute’s performance would differ from what I do, and I couldn’t imagine how it greatly would.

I, also, found the options offered untenable, largely because they seem to derive from a premise that suggests that homosexuals are so inherently like prostitutes that prostitutes would make suitable representatives for the entire subculture. You ask if homosexuals in a stable, committed relationship are actually representative of homosexuals - if you take ‘homo’ away, it just leaves ‘sexual’ something all humans have in common. The fact that gays focus their attraction on the same gender has no bearing on their otherwise human-ness. A gay prostitute is no more a suitable representative for gays in general than a hooker would be for the hetero population.

I’m lying here ass-up in a Nashville hotel room somewhere between loads five and six (hopefully; it’s not even 8:30 yet) and reflecting on the men I’ve just serviced and how I’ve serviced them. They had a range of sexual styles and needs, from quick rutting to deep breeding, vocal and silent, relatively passive to quite dominating. For some reason, the thought occurred to me, I suppose this must be similar to what a prostitute experiences. The main difference, of course, is that I would never accept any sort of compensation for my service. But at s baseline level, if you take the question of compensation out of the equation, is what I do significantly different than the work of a prostitute? If we ask, ‘when does it become work’? the immediate answer is, ‘when someone gets paid to do it’. But that isn’t the definition of ‘work’. Work is ‘activity involving mental or physical effort done in order to achieve a purpose or result.’ When I take cock, I exert myself both physically and mentally in ways that are not always pleasurable, and I do so with a very specific set of goals and objectives in mind, all centered around bringing Tops to a state of sexual gratification. Isn’t that basically as prostitute’s job description? Am I, functionally, an unpaid sex worker - a free prostitute? I don’t have an answer for this question. My motivation for undertaking the time, expense and effort required to successfully share my body for a night is not rooted in a need for personal sexual release, but in the gratification of successfully performing a task I can do well. It doesn’t feel like a biological drive, though I may be giving short shrift to a need to perform a receptive role in breeding not normally native to males. It doesn’t really matter; I don’t care if what I do makes me a de facto prostitute. I just think it’s an interesting question.

I don’t dislike you in the least. I apologize that I have ever given you that impression. Just because I might not agree with something you say at some point doesn’t mean I don’t like you. I don’t agree with everything my mother says. (I don’t dislike you either, Bookman. I find you entertaining.)

I’m not sure the Saracens would concur, but being put to the sword tends to bias one’s perspective.

Well. You learn something new every day. Apparently, in the history of the Papacy - that’s the History of Popes, mind you - the first two-thirds of the 10th Century, from 904AD -964AD, came to be known as the Sæculum Obscurum, the “Dark Age”, also known as The Pornocracy, or the Rule of the Harlots. It would seem that the daughter of an important Roman noble became the concubine of Pope Sergius III when she was 15, and discovered a whole new meaning to the phrase “pussy power”. She later took other husbands (plural) and lovers, got her son made Pope, and she and her mom more or less had the Papacy by the short and curlies for over half a century. There were twelve - count ‘em, twelve - Popes during this period, one of whom was the alleged lover of the mom, another the daughter’s grandson by a different son. The Church doesn’t talk about this much, I gather. The point is, Brethren, if the Papacy itself can become a Pornocracy for half a century, surely there is hope for the wanton.

*sigh* Since this seems to be eating you alive, allow me to clarify. The fundamental error you are making in interpreting my post is that you assume that I am suggesting that a person ought to have a negative self-reflection if he stops to consider the implications of paying for sex. You impute that I am making absolutist claims that a given thought process “can only” arrive at a given result, full stop. And you seem to think that I am attempting to make a declarative value judgment about how people ought to feel about themselves and this practice. All of which is rubbish. My contemplation was based on a question about how an individual resolves internal conflict -if- he is the sort of person who introspects. Clearly, not everyone does. Some people are perfectly happy living life at face value, and don’t think too deeply about anything. I sometimes envy them; I imagine it’s much easier to be happy that way. Pay attention to the context: When I said a man’s self-image ‘can only’ suffer, the context is in ‘can only be expected to suffer, if he is prone to negative self-analysis.’ The statement has bupkis to do with anybody who doesn’t think that way, not does it suggest that anybody should. Again, this is a topic about ethics. There’s a young man in his 20s who’s been communicating with me of late expressing his deep inner conflict over the rightness of his sexual behavior. There are people out there who suffer great anxiety and distress over a perceived disconnect between their drives and their conscience, and their self-image suffers. I am interested in the experience of such people with regard to this question, not the experience of those whose sex lives can be satisfied by transactional, conscience-free fucking. I have no problem with transactional people - my entire personal goal in my sexual life is to make it unnecessary for any Top to have to pay for a fuck, and is therefore largely transactional at its core - it is simply a free transaction. I obviously am not a crusader against all transactional sex for those for whom it works. Now that I have explained that I am not attempting to proselytize or stuff my bespoke morality down anyone’s throat, I would be very much obliged if you would A. Make no further attempt to characterize the nature of my Autism, and B. Get off my ass.

I take umbrage at such a slur on the Commonwealth of Kentucky - we also make bourbon, which some might claim to be a staple and necessity for life. Actually, coal/horses is a rather stereotypical view of Kentucky. Coal is only found in two limited areas and it’s an industry in decline in both) and the horse racing industry has little to do with the lives of everyday Kentuckians. It’s plenty agrarian, but there’s diversified industry here too, widely spread about, particularly along the interstate corridors. There’s a gargantuan new battery manufacturing plant being constructed the next county up, and an entire industrial park two counties down. Two smaller factories in this county alone. If people had to rely on coal and horses for a living, they’d be eating the horses.

As a Texan, how likely do you think that actually is? I spent four years down there in The Republic among the bubbas, and I’d say, not very. Someday the day will come when we’re no longer dependent on fossil fuels and no longer as ridiculous about eating beef. When that happens, Texas will have little left in it but mesquite and wild hogs.

I actually make sure I take a helping of Metamucil before bed the night before I know I’m going to do a saltwater flush in the morning. That way, whatever’s in my bowel gets packaged up nice and neat for easy expulsion when the saltwater does its thing. It seems to be an effective combination for me.

Um, no, I actually do wonder, as in I don’t assume that I know, and besides, my conjecture was not directed at the given individual being reported on - why would it be, I don’t know him from Adam - but rather extrapolated to a generalized “he” for purposes of the open question. Of course I’m talking about introspection - any time someone thinks twice about anything, it’s an act of introspection. This is a thread about ethics, and ethical choices generally require some degree of self-searching. Your use of “snitty” is a masterpiece of irony.

I use this technique fairly often. A quart is a pretty hefty amount to drink of anything in a short period of time, and I usually find it unpleasant getting those last three or four ounces of saltwater down. It helps very much to add a squirt of drink flavoring like Mio that won’t interfere with the action of the cleansing, but will make the drinking a little more palatable. I hear what the OP is saying about being able to eat anything you want the day before, but do yourself a favor and go light, and don’t eat foods that gum up your digestion. Think fiber.

But I wonder if the guy, at some level, ended up feeling bad about having to buy it. Because if he stops to think about it at all - and if he can comment that the other guy never made him feel bad about it, the thought of feeling bad about it has to have occurred to him on his own - the very fact that he’s had to shell out for it can only underscore the negative feelings that drove them to do it in the first place. In other words, a guy might say, I hate it that I’m not attractive enough to get a hot guy at the bathhouse, but look - I can buy one! …which…I…wouldn’t have to do if I wasn’t too unattractive to get a hot guy at the bathhouse. And how do guys who pay avoid thinking, whilst doing it, This hot guy wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for the money. He’s not interested in me or my body - he’s fucking my wallet. I mean, I’m sure there are guys who can enjoy it at the shallowest level possible and give it no more thought than that, but for anyone with even a little introspection, there’s not a lot to build on there.

We will have to agree to disagree. Nothing in your argument begins to touch on either the very real - and deeply complex - psychological connections to sex, or the real and demonstrable biochemical effects that take place during intercourse. When you approach sex from a transactional basis to start with, it’s easy to claim that such things either don’t exist or don’t matter, but they do, and they do. I don’t think I misunderstand Maslow; I’m simply pointing out that sex intersects a human life at levels beyond the base physical. I defy anyone to claim that sex has no impact on a person’s self-image, sel-esteem, or sense of feeling accepted or capable of being loved.

It’s true that most claims of 20 and 30 loads on these boards are likely at least inflated if not fictional… but It actually does happen, and it doesn’t just happen to body-beautiful people. It can happen for men over 40 who have never set foot in a gym, but who have the sense to put themselves in the right location at an optimal time, who strategize how to make their availability obvious, and who are willing to take what comes along. I know this is true because it has happened to me, more than once. My personal best is 34, but at Indy CumUnions, I’ve had tallies of 24 and 23. I’m over 50 years old, and I have never been to a gym. I have no reason to lie about this, and indeed, I am very careful not to even embellish my narrative of my experiences on here because I fear no one will believe me when I’m telling the absolute truth. High load counts are, however, rare (there simply aren’t enough Tops to go around) and require a number of optimal factors to all converge at the same time, a lot like planets coming into alignment. The difference is, planets are predictable. With Tops, you can only set the stage as best you can at the best theatre you can get space in on the night with the best crowd, deliver your best performance, and hope for the best. It also has to be said that it isn’t always the muscles outside that make the difference. A bottom who’s a mediocre fuck isn’t going to reach the 20-load threshold because one of the key factors that makes it happen is the “You gotta try this” effect: Word of mouth. A bottom’s cunt has to be good enough that Tops can’t help telling other Tops how good it is, so that other Tops want to try it for themselves. I’ve worked very hard to train my ass to deliver quality, and it’s paid off. That’s not bragging; if a guy who works out at the gym tells me he can bench press 250, my equivalent is to say my cunt has taken more than 20 in a night.

Color me skeptical about this. I’ve looked at a sampling of the available abstracts of studies from the 1960s to the present that purport to demonstrate the efficacy of hypnosis against warts - which are caused by a virus - and what’s out there strikes me as pretty dubious. These claims are being made on the basis of studies of quite small groups of people, and the success rate claimed is as low as 27%, and no higher than 55% - well, that puts us in coin-toss territory. The same study says that some of those studied who did not respond to hypnotic techniques that could be tested did respond to hypnotic techniques that could not be tested against controls. Well, there goes that study’s “findings” out the window. While it may be possible that some form of suggestion therapy is helping some participants boost their immune response - which is the only conceivable way hypnosis is going to have any effect on what a virus is doing - it also has to be pointed out that these cases also sometimes resolve without intervention simply because the body prevails against the pathogen - it’s hard to see how these studies account for the possibility of spontaneous remission as an alternative explanation for the result in any given case. I’ve been the subject of hypnosis before. It isn’t magic. I would have to see some much more robust science behind this before I would count on a hypnotist as my line of defense against warts.

The difference is that human sexuality isn’t supposed to be a commodity. @Kayne touches on the core of the reason when he talks about payment being in part compensation for damage for the harm caused. At a biochemical level, every time we have a sexual union with another person, our bodies engage biochemical mechanisms to create bonding. This is not something we have control over; it’s hard-wired. We’ve just learned societally to simply rip away from those feelings of bonding and ignore them. But they still happen, every time, and they account, often, for the feeling of emptiness, unfulfillment, or sense of being discarded, devalued, or used that may follow a casual encounter even if it’s otherwise consensual, exciting, and pleasurable. Sexuality is s basic need identified in Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, but unlike the other base-level survival needs also found in level 1, where it is represented as a physical need, it also has a presence in levels 3 and 4, implicated in the need to be loved and accepted, and the need for self-esteem. When made transactional, an act of sex may superficially satisfy the level 1 need, but it actively causes a deficit in levels 3 and 4. (One might hypothesize this as a possible explanation for why individuals like some cumdumps have a maladaptive sense of pride and self-value from being serially used as sexual objects - they may be attempting to psychologically interpret the severe deficits being caused in such a way as to either minimize the loss, or actually invert the process and convert the deficit into a gain, illusory as it might be. I’m just spitballing, or looking in the mirror. One of those.) I realize there are times when a man may feel he has to pay for sex because he cannot obtain it any other way, and he feels a desperation to meet his basic level 1 survival need. But a society that sanctions transactional sex, however illicit, essentially obliges him to sacrifice his higher-level needs to do it. He must rob Peter to fuck Paul. It’s not a moralistic statement of “sex shouldn’t be for sale” - it’s a rational observation based on observed phenomena. That is to say, science. What becomes a value judgment is whether we value the quality of human lives enough as a society to say that this is something it is not ethical to do. I think it is not, which is why I will neither pay nor accept compensation for intimacy. I won’t judge those who do, but I am sad for them.

…I don’t know…somehow I get the feeling that phone sex could still qualify in your case.

To add to the responses above, you specifically asked whether you would be at higher risk for a meds-resistant HIV infection. The meds-resistance of a strain you might become infected with is not a result of your level of medication barrier at the time of infection, it’s a mutant characteristic of that particular strain that has development in some other host. These are called “breakthrough infections”. Your chance of encountering such a strain is entirely random, and your chance of becoming infected with it will depend on its level of resistance to the medication used for prevention. If your adherence to your PrEP regimen is suboptimal (careless, neglectful, lackadaisical, not taken as directed) it is possible to acquire a common-or-garden strain that then becomes meds-resitant within you because PrEP is not the same as ART and the drugs in PrEP do not fully suppress the virus. In such a case it’s difficult then to know whether the mutated resistant strain came from outside or was home-grown. Are we terrified yet? Historically in the Americas, med-resistance at some degree has been found in 10% of cases presenting for treatment. The efficacy of first-line NNRTI-based meds at viral load suppression has averaged about 81% for those receiving first-line ART, 70% for those receiving second-line ART. That was before Dolutegravir-based treatments, which are showing significantly higher effectiveness in suppressing viral load. Nonetheless, the take-home from this is that if you don’t want to take it home, stick to your PrEP. I know you want to cruise, but the world won’t end if you decide to skip it for a couple of days while your level of protection builds back up. Source for above info: WHO [think before following links] https://www.who.int/news-room/fact-sheets/detail/hiv-drug-resistance#:~:text=Pretreatment HIV drug resistance,-Drug resistance can&text=Up to 10% of adults,previous exposure to antiretroviral drugs.

I suspect that he had a sense that his interaction with you was one where identities were kept at arm’s length, there were no strings attached, and you didn’t intersect with his life in any way other than those singular instances when you hooked up. Then, suddenly you reveal that you know things about other spheres of his life that he may not have thought he had divulged directly to you, and got the impression that you had been digging around trying to find personal information about him. I imagine it spooked him, and he may have felt threatened when he found you “inside” one of the other circles of his life.

No. Not an acceptable excuse. That’s the same as “Everybody does it, so…” [shrug] We don’t have to accept this shit. We don’t have to roll over and let our community turn into an anarchic wasteland where nobody knows how to behave in a decent way toward other human beings. The ‘Block’ function has a use, but it’s also one of the big culprits it the lack of personal accountability that emboldens people to be assholes online. With Blocking, anyone can do a hit-and-run and get away clean. If people actually had to answer for their shitty behavior online, the shitty behavior would ramp down sudden quick. So don’t tell me I have to roll over and take it up the ass. I mean - do, please, but don’t ask me to accept ‘asshole’ as the ‘new normal’. None of us should.

The Universe moves not in arcs, but in circles. Even the swing of a pendulum is a kind of cyclic motion. It may be that the tide of ignorance and repression is rising, but tides invariably ebb. These people may hold sway in the small circle of the moment; every dog has his day. But the direction of the greater circle of the age, the one in which the rising generations will be the deciding force, is one in which tolerance and acceptance are more widespread. This is the last, desperate howl of passing generations who do not want their world to change, and their battle is hopeless - change is the only constant. In time, the world will be dominated by people of my children’s generation, and if they are any guide, these dark days will not stand.

Nine is significant again for me this week - as I lie here in bed with my cat on my chest, I’m reminded that we lay in exactly this position nine years ago in the first days after my release from the hospital where AIDS tried to end me. I am now a nine-year AIDS survivor. To many in this age of ART and PrEP, that doesn’t mean much - AIDS is not a foregone conclusion from an HIV diagnosis anymore, and AIDS need not be a death sentence. It wasn’t mine. But it almost was. I was born in 1966, just in time to come of age when sex was terrifying because it could be deadly. Some divine Providence must have been watching over me to make me such a (ridiculously) late bloomer - if I had awakened sexually at the same time as my peers I strongly suspect I would have become promiscuous at a very dangerous time, and likely would have faced AIDS under much less favorable odds. Which is to say, I wouldn’t be an AIDS survivor at all. When the clock strikes nine, we get a sense of progress; the morning is fully underway; the evening has matured. It is past the time for beginnings, but not quite the time of winding down. As it happens, my AIDS anniversary is in September - month number nine - so particularly significant this year. The ninth month is like the ninth hour, a place somewhere between the end of the beginning and the beginning of the end. No longer summer, but not yet really autumn. The leaves are tired, but not ready yet to fall. I’m tired. The battle takes it out of you. My doctor changed my HIV med in August from Biktarvy to Juluca. I used to have my alarm set to go off at 9:00pm every night to remind me to take my Biktarvy before bed, and I never missed a dose. Juluca must be taken in the morning, with food, so I’ve had to forcibly break habits and forcibly make new ones. It’s not as easy as it sounds. I can’t skip breakfast now, ever. And to make sure I don’t forget to take a pill along with it, I set my alarm to go off every day at 9:00am. I haven’t missed a dose. No aid or comfort to the Enemy Virus. The thing about a clock striking 9:00pm, though, is that you realize the night is no longer young, and you begin to think about when - and how - it will end. It’s hard for me to think about an ending that doesn’t have HIV wrapped up in it, degrading the quality of my life. I cannot go a single, solitary day that I am not reminded, like clockwork, that I am an AIDS survivor, and that both the virus and the meds that hold it at bay gnaw at my insides and speed the ticking of my clock toward its final tick. The stroke of nine feels like a momentary intermission before the final act begins. Not dead yet, though. I’m not giving the goddamn thing another chance. Tune in at 10:00 for a live update.

The colloquial expression for this, of course, is “What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.”

I’m not sure I understand the question. It’s unclear what your objection to the guy was exactly, but regardless, it’s probably unreasonable to assume that most men who fuck face would not expect your mouth to be reusable.