Steven Persici – Page 2

November 22, 2020December 1, 2020

I Can’t Hear You Coming

I don’t know about you, lovely people, but I for one am really fed up of not being able to be loud and vocal during sex. It’s fucking frustrating, quite literally, to not be able to really get into it. The sounds of sex add so much spice and flavor. That’s why we all like listening to porn, after all. Sure watching naked people getting it on is nice. But without the sounds, who cares. Don’t you dare deny it. You know you love the grunting and moaning and aaaaahing.

Doing the deed with sound effects turned on is what I would like to do. The thing is, the neighbors across the wall are liable to get their panties in a bunch if we’re too loud. I swear, in my neighborhood, nobody has had non-procreative sex ever. All the neighbors are so close, you would think that I would’ve glimpsed or detected something suggestive going on by now. But we never see anyone holding hands or, gasp, kissing on the street. Forget about seeing anyone wearing anything remotely close to revealing. And hearing heavy breathing or rhythmic fucking is just unimaginable.

Not that we don’t hear noises. Oh no! We can hear doors getting slammed, people going up and down the stairs, dogs barking. We hear the hum of their dishwashers and we see the lights they leave on. So these windows and walls do have the capacity to transmit sights and sounds. And that’s what’s terrifying. It’s like some spookier version of The Stepford Wives.

Having sex is an activity for the senses. I do mean all the senses. Sex with the lights off and not being able to look into her eyes? Not for me. Not being able to smell her skin and taste her everywhere? I would be a very sad person if that were to happen. It’s not as bad with sex sounds. We can manage to quietly whisper our orgasms, after all. But still. Did I mention it’s frustrating?

I miss not caring about the noise we make. I miss being fucking turned on and letting my vocal cords act accordingly. I miss blaring my abandon and coming like a true king.

October 17, 2020October 17, 2020

Realizing When We Objectify Women

I know I just restarted this blog but let’s get right in the thick of it, shall we.

I’m a man. Objectifying women is bad. I like looking at women. Ergo, how not to be that creep?

For as long as I can remember I have worried… Actually no that’s not strong enough, I’ve been scared that I might unknowingly do or say something that objectified a woman and she would get mad at me.

That may sound ridiculous. Especially in the light of the constant stream of stories of men who feel entitled to demean, bully and take advantage of women, including but in no way is limited to all of those who were rightfully tried on the public square via the Me Too movement.

But I’m serious. As a young man, I had trouble approaching women because of it. If there is any justice in this world, may this confession pull the average balance of decency ever so slightly back to a saner middle.

You know what my problem was? I didn’t understand what objectifying women really meant. It’s like systemic racism; I’m white and I unknowingly benefit from the system so I won’t know what racism really means unless 1) I accept that I could be part of the problem, and 2) I proactively seek to uncover where I contribute to racism. Similarly, I think it’s not immediately obvious to young men how they’re objectifying women when 1) they don’t have the maturity to consider that objectification might be sneaking into their world view, and 2) they are not actively working at understanding women.

I’m in my 50’s now so I’m by no means throwing only young dudes under the bus. I’m an equal opportunity people thrower. We grown-up men are also part of this.

Recognizing objectification is an important skill to have if we’re going to get better at not doing it. And I think we don’t talk about that enough.

As I’ve slowly become older and wiser (allegedly), I’d like to think I’ve gotten better at knowing the difference between looking and seeing. Let’s take a random example. It’s one thing to look at a woman’s elbow and find it hot as hell. It’s a better thing to see she has a complete set of body parts, with a lovely brain to boot, and be interested in knowing more about her. It’s about the whole person, see.

So yeah, you maaaay be objectifying her if you like looking at her ass and the rest of her doesn’t matter. Especially if you’re not in the least interested by what she thinks and what she’s done to get to where she is. Just sayin’.

If you’re not sure, Stark Raving has a cool checklist of what to look for in your behavior to start becoming aware of where objectification sneaks into your male gaze.

October 12, 2020October 15, 2020

I’m going back in

So here’s the deal. Seven years ago I convinced myself that shutting down Fruits of Libido was the right thing to do. I had limited time and space to write, and life kept getting in the way. In retrospect, it’s clear that that’s exactly why I should have kept writing; we have to make time and space for things that are important to us. But now I’m back and LVNSX is my new digs.

So hey everyone, how’s it going?

Two things happened when I stopped blogging. I lost touch with myself and I lost touch with many people. Coming to this realization was a slow process. Sorry for the cliché, but yes, it’s easy to take for granted the things you have. What I had when I was blogging? Connections, friendships, discussions, challenges, ideas, a sense of where I fit in all of it. A place to be my horny self even. All of that was eroded by the time I have spent not writing.

So I want back in. I’m craving back in. I see some people I used to follow have graduated their blogs from blogspot to first-class domains of their own. Good for you! Yep, blogging is still a thing. And why the hell not.

The “sex blog” designation or categorization is a funny thing. Sexuality is definitely part of the deal, but a sex blog is about sex like a cooking blog is about cooking. It’s not the point. We do it because it’s healthy, it nourishes, we like the smells, and it tastes really good… Yeah, does it ever.