Note: very likely TMI. Graphic sexual discussion, at least kinda.
So for all the talk of love and intimacy, this new "sexual awakening" has me feeling like something of a uberdork, like all the words that I spew are so much mental masturbation and I'm really just a closet perv. And I know it's not really true, but there is this wide gap between the intellectual and the physical that is particularly wide right now.
It's not like I can't control my urges. I'm just recognizing them in a nigh-unto-hyperaware state.
At the same point, I am not in the mood to be completely blocking sexual desire. I think that repression of sexuality can lead to some really dangerous or offensive behaviors, as well as messing with your headspace. Kind of like keeping a tiger as a pet: you have to let it out to play once in a while, or it will end up eating your face.
But I don't exactly have a good outlet for sexual desires. I haven't exactly been much for the booty call, and I don't really have a fuckbuddy or two or ten that I can call on. And really, I'm in a bit of a funky emotional place where gettin' busy with a friend might not be such a good idea.
So my sexual outlets are pretty limited: masturbation, or the sexual underground (my term for the various sex industries of an illicit nature).
The upside of masturbation is that it's convenient. Nobody else is involved, so it's not messy (in the emotional sense), and it's pretty much instant gratification. And it's cheap.
The downside is that there is no interaction. And sometimes that need for interaction is something that needs to be fed. Bear in mind it's been a long time since I've had any real interactive sexual contact, so I'm not just talking out of my ass here (and no, don't go there).
So I've started considering the sexual underground.
There are a lot of options, from the seedy one-on-one peep booths at Sex World and the bookstore and the déjà vu Basement, to massage parlors, to escort services, to some of the more dangerous and potentially deadly Frogtown Street hookers (no, I'm not insane, I consider those off-limits). Of the remaining, there are good and bad points.
Stigma is the primary sticking point. There is this thing in the back of my head that associates the sexual underground with creepy guys in raincoats that look like a cracked-out Ron Jeremy. It's nothing other than a feeling; the true clientele tends toward middle-aged businessmen. And I'm not married or otherwise attached, so I am free of the associated encumberances that could come with that.
Yet I hesitate.
As the old saying goes, "Fish or Cut Bait".