Love in the Time of COVID-19
For someone who has had as many one-off meets as I’ve had, I’m not particularly enamoured of them. I like to take my time to learn someone’s body, find the particular touches that make their heart race and their cock throb. There is much to be said for the frenzy of someone new, the frantic urgency, kicking the flat door closed because my hands are busy stripping off his clothes, falling to my knees in the hall to take him into my mouth because I can’t spare the time to drag him into the bedroom in the lust and greed of the moment, or being pressed against the wall of a hotel room with his cock pressing into me from behind for a hard, fast, frantic fuck.
My preference will normally be for the more leisurely sex that takes time to touch, to feel, to taste, to learn. I love to watch a man masturbate because I love to see how he touches himself. As well as being a generally delightful thing to watch it tells me how he wants me to touch him: does he enjoy having his balls cupped? Does he like long strokes to the shaft or short movements focusing on the head? Firm grip or lighter touch? When I know this I can do the same for him, having a much better idea of what feels good for him.
That takes time. It’s not something you’ll get with a random one night stand, and frankly a one night stand tends to be more about grabbing the maximum possible pleasure for myself than it is about giving the maximum possible pleasure to my partner. It’s disposable, inconsequential, enjoyable but meaningless.
I feel in something of a limbo right now. There is the potential that I’ll need to work from home in the near future for a considerable length of time. Normally if I have one day working from home I will spend much of the time on my back with my favourite toy in my hand. If I have longer than that I will arrange to have a guest visit for some glorious daytime sex while the sun streams through the window onto us or (more frequently) the rain lashes the glass as we fuck.
I am usually more than content in my own company. I enjoy silence and solitude, but that’s because it’s juxtaposed with a frenetic office environment full of hustle and laughing and shouting and joking and swearing, sharing of the most intimate of stories and the most banal of small talk. Faced with several weeks of crashing silence my talkative heart rebels and my sociable side insistently whispers I ought to arrange frequent visits from lovers. Given that my current sexual interests also have jobs it’s unlikely they’d be able to rush to my bed just so there’s a warm body in the flat, which leaves me with the random daytimers.
I am not in self-isolation for coronavirus and my time at home (if it happens) will be for prevention rather than quarantine but given the rapid spread of the disease and the relatively small amount of conversation or general “getting to know you” chit chat with a random one-off, would I be happy getting up-close and personal with someone who has no incentive to tell me if they are feeling a little under the weather?
Current guidance is to practice social distancing – avoid crowded places, stay 1.5m away from other people. I have never met any man sufficiently well-endowed to allow for sex at such a distance. There is no evidence to suggest the virus is sexually transmitted, but kissing and heavy breathing mean that if either person is carrying the virus without exhibiting symptoms the likelihood of transmission is high.
Do I take my chances? Do I opt for splendid isolation? Am I worrying as unnecessarily as the people who have bought 80 toilet rolls and 45kg of dried pasta? I’m not yet being asked to work from home but I can feel that time drawing nearer. Maybe I should send a health questionnaire out to prospective partners and scan them with a temperature gun before allowing them into the flat. There is always the option of suggesting we start with a romantic shower in Purell. Safety first, after all.
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