Why do you like girlish guys?
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A question asked by someone with whom I've been corresponding.
Assuming that "plumbing" isn't the main attraction, why is girlish guy more appealing to you than a very attractive woman with a feminine or androgynous ambience?
Kind of a heterosexist question: why wouldn't you prefer someone with a cunt? Not that it peeves me. Many decent straight men are probably baffled that their favorite plaything doesn't imprison all men's imaginations. Some of us make sport of our genetic heritage. Well, there are hundreds of millions of us, enough to fill a continent. (If Atlantis were to rise from the ocean we could move there and name it Queeriana or Gaysia.)
My instant responses collide with each other in my brain: because of my childhood, because of what it was like when I came out, because I choose it to be so, because I always smile when I see a nelly guy? "
It is some of all of that. Possibly because I've written thousands of words about my feelings about androgynous gay men I'm lost in my own speculations.
When I wrote what I felt was my definitive statement of my pleasure in nelly gay guys I thought I'd shut up. But this is a convenient excuse to try to condense some of my assorted spins on my sexuality.
My unlamented departed Daddy was butch in mind and body. He really could bend bolts, pick up the back of a 1960s car. Daddy was a bastard. I grew up without an appreciation of that emphatic masculinity. But I did grow up queer or something near to that. (In recent years I've come to appreciate conventional masculine sex appeal more. There are plenty of gay men panting over [famous actor] or [famous athlete]. But I'd rather stay in my erotic niche.)
In those years not long after Stonewall it was mostly the nelly guys who came on to me, put my virginity in its grave. My sense of debt to them is infused with joy however daft and maddening they may have been. When I think of them eros fuses with giddiness. Back on my first page about "soft boys" I said they put a spring in my walk.
Show me two guys, one exceptionally pretty, the other average but androgynous and it is the second that I'll watch. Surface gloss and symmetry are wonderful but a guy invested with genderqueer glamour is [concatenation of superlatives deleted in the interests of taste].
Loving genderqueer guys hasn't proven the sanest course. Everybody knows what childhood and youth are like for a male the ordinary people call a sissy. Growing up often despised by your own parents, picked on by other boys makes for an insecure guy, often desperate for approval. Some come to live for the least essential things, escaping by focusing on tinsel. And responding to things with indifference or a sneer, trying to insure that nothing will wound them. The males who don dresses often cultivate a veneer of harshness and toughness.
Their distrust of the world the live in leaves them foolish and flighty. Genuinely bright guys seem daft. They aren't the safest men to love.
I find queerness in itself attracts me. As I wrote not along ago even in gay women. For me a visibly gay guy (even if I'm not one) is enveloped in a sort of luminosity. It used to make my skin crawl to hear a gay man say only straight men were worthy of lust. But I think (hope) that species has diminished over the years.
That I single out gay people over bisexual may seem unkind. It is unfair. Blame it on the nasty-minded 'bi' men who lurk in the unclean side streets of the web. (And I've written my own defense of bisexuals.)
When I dug into my memories I found I'd had sex with a couple of guys back when I was in elementary school and lusted after both sexes in junior high school. Though they'd be forgotten the feelings of desire for women were real. One girl's outline remains burned in my neurons as an archetype of beauty.
What about the "plumbing," e.g., the genitalia. I've enjoyed having cocks in my mouth and up my backside, perhaps not as being on the other end but the pleasure has always been real enough. Why do without them? . Guys have two orifices, who needs three? Yep, that is crude and flippant, if you aren't smart enough to accept it as a joke you'll have to forgive it. (Actually I was trying to paraphrase one of Martial epigrams.) I do enjoy the presence of a penis even if its owner has no interest in using it. Or under a dress.
And there are the erotics of geometry. Ordinarily women are curves and guys are angles. I may be queer but I like those straight lines. And I prefer the hips no wider than the shoulders. At least I felt that way when I was younger. While I do like linearity I can appreciate soft, female arcs as well as anyone.
But, yes, an androgynous woman is compelling. In just writing that sentence I instantly see a slim female, white shirt, jeans, ankle high boots maybe. Thought I don't write about it much I find women sexy.
I admire the female breast. If God's Sex Shoppe opens up I'll be putting my request in for a classical hermaphrodite.
But this is all about who is first in erotic daydreams. Just talk.
In real life (silly phrase) I'd be happy to be with whomever, whatever. Gay guy, whether he prefers pants or skirts. Woman born or a woman who realized her true self via surgery. Someone in-between or unanticipated. Maybe, if I met him, a hairy garage mechanic who somehow proved to be the right guy for me.
I couldn't call myself pansexual otherwise. Pity pomosexual and pomosexuality offend my ear. (The mere arrival of post-pomo as a neologism is testimony enough that it is time to rid ourselves of terms rooted in transitory chronology.) "Pomosexuals' supposedly are people who've discovered the elasticity of gender. Pomosexuality treats gender norms as painters do colors in their palette to be mixed and used to imbue each unique person with his or her distinctive sexual persona. These are the people I love.
Anyway I do think of femme or genderqueer guys first for some reason or another: childhood aversion therapy, sex partners of young manhood, willful choice.