I think this needs an introduction from me as Mr More is once again guesting on my blog. Even though he now has his own site. But the content here is a little bit extraordinary in the old fashioned sense of the word. In the future I may follow this with a post of my own. But for now read what he has to say about sexual intercourse…
How a lie lead to a lot of naughty sex
My first girlfriend told me she was unable to achieve orgasm during sexual intercourse. She’d had two previous partners, and was convinced there was no way it would happen. She could bring herself to a climax quite easily, so I suggested that following intercourse she should masturbate. I was happy to participate in this. Contributing whatever stimulation she desired, and as a result we enjoyed a lot of satisfying sex.
I moved to London -she did not- and my sexual horizon quickly expanded. For a young, randy kid off the parental leash, sex was like crime: means, motive and opportunity. Thanks to the common excesses of showbusiness (my chosen profession) the means and the opportunities fell into my lap. Literally, in some cases. The motive went without saying. So I had lot of sex with a lot of women in the five years that followed my relocation to London. Much of it wonderful, some of it weird and most of it witless.
Seven years later, just when my brain had learned to overcome my balls, a woman I was involved with became pregnant. Sadly, this was a very calculated exercise on her part, as she herself admitted. I had, from the start, made it clear – I could not have made it any clearer- that I had no wish to father a child, with her or anyone else. (Indeed, I have never had that wish at any point in my adult life, and have always been scrupulously honest about this with anyone considering involvement with me.)
Having assured me she was using the contraceptive pill, my girlfriend had in fact lied. And for several weeks had been doing no such thing. She decided that becoming pregnant was a good idea. Arrived at this conclusion entirely in her own mind, making no attempt to discuss the subject with me. The relationship itself was already foundering and I don’t doubt that played a part in her rather desperate actions.
Being young, selfish and defiantly irresponsible, I suggested two options. If she was determined to have the baby I’d marry her, and parent the child through to adulthood. After which we could go our separate ways. Or she could have an abortion. After some deliberation she chose the latter. The relationship ended. I won’t dwell on the emotional repercussions of these events, because I cannot imagine that the consequences for me were even a fraction of those impacted upon that unfortunate woman. However, the determination that such a scenario must never happen again was ingrained in my mind, and was never far from my thoughts.
During my next relationship, this recurring worry led me to what some might consider a radical solution.
I decided to stop engaging in sexual intercourse.
Not surprisingly, my girlfriend was less than thrilled by this development, and jumped ship.
But my mind was made up. From this point onward, any and all sexual relationships I had would be predicated on two principles : I have zero desire to reproduce and I won’t be having intercourse. This is not -take my word for it- a chat-up line that brings a crowd of women kicking the door down to get at you. On the other hand, my oddball rules had the merit of inviting interest, usually followed by polite inquiries about what the hell was wrong with me. And of course, more than one lady took my declarations for a challenge, and thought to herself : I’m such a hot sexual handful, in the end he’ll agree to do whatever I want because I’ll make him so aroused he won’t be able to resist...
But resist I did.
Over thirty years passed and my resolve was unchanged. No intercourse!
I suspect this may be too big an ask for a lot of men, but my slightly odd personal history played a big part. As stated above, I had enjoyed rather a lot of varied sexual experience relatively early in life, and had no feelings of having ‘missed out’ on the carnal carnival. Furthermore, my very first sexual experiences were with a woman for whom intercourse was never the climactic experience. Time passed, lovers came (and came) and went. I became fairly well acquainted with the business of bringing women to orgasm by means other than screwing. I will also admit it was not the worst thing in the world to find yourself -occasionally- in bed with a woman who was hell-bent on driving you wild with desire. Let’s just say I got through it all in one piece.
In retrospect, I certainly wouldn’t recommend this approach to anyone as a viable lifestyle option. But I honestly have no complaints about the way things turned out. With intercourse off the menu, my sexual adventures were inevitably going to be addressed with a greater degree of imagination, care and attention to detail. I like to think that what was lost on the swings was gained on the roundabout. I’d found a solution to the problem of keeping sex as a recreational activity. Needs must when the devil drives. I’m pretty sure I belong to that small but significant percentage of people who find their sex drive running way ahead of most potential partners. I’d expect a few sex-bloggers view themselves in a similar way.
All bad things must come to an end, however. I am now, thankfully, in a relationship where the strictures of the previous three decades are no longer necessary. Paranoia’s finally off the table and everything else is back on the menu. But that doesn’t mean I’m giving up on the imagination, the care, or the little details either. There are, after all, many great ways to skin a cat.