LARGETONY Blog

I was chatting with a buddy who has hot abs. That has nothing to do with this post. He just does. (Hmmm. That was a very Nicky opening. I must be reading his blog too much.)

Anyway, I was chatting with Mr. Abs and we were talking about sexual stuff…naturally. Sort of comparing notes on experiences and likes and dislikes. During the conversation I admitted that I like mirrors during sex. I was surprised I told him because I have never really told anyone that. Not even my best friend, “J.” I haven’t even told the guys I’ve been with sexually. (Although I guess some could figure it out when they suddenly found themselves flipped onto all fours with me behind them, my eyes locked on theirs through a nearby mirror.)

It’s not like I have to set up a bunch of mirrors before dancing between the sheets, nor is it like I even need there to be a mirror at all. But if there just happens to be one around….well, I’m gonna be watchin’.

I know. Now you’re thinking I’m all self-absorbed and a narcisisst. But really, I’m not. Even though I have, from time to time, hand-whipped up a pint or two while staring in the mirror on my closet door, it’s really not about looking at me. I don’t even look at my face. (You all know that I’m into my mug.) When I’m alone I mostly watch myself from about the navel to the knee. Focused on the best nine inches or so of me. In my mind, it’s not even me…it’s spying on some dude wrestling with his big fatty.

When I have been with someone and there’s a reflection, it’s about watching their faces and bodies react to what I am doing to them. Seeing their jaw go slack as I start in…the beads of sweat pop out on their forehead…the alternating grimace and grin as they adjust to me getting deeper and deeper…what happens in their eyes as I pick up steam. (Rolling back like they were Wal-Mart prices). Hmmm…I guess that’s still about me. Maybe I am narcissistic.

Nah. Maybe I’m really just a voyeur. I do love when I look over and see how the bodies entwine and rub against each other; the way the sweaty parts stick together; or where on the body the skin starts to flush from physical exertion. You can’t always get a good visual perspective on things like that when you’re on top of a hot boy, grinding his insides to paste. But give me a glimpse in the mirror and that shit just brings out the bigness in me. Even though I know the reality, in my mind it’s some other couple going at it (damn, that top guy is GOOD ). And again, it’s my partner’s face I’m looking at, not mine. If I saw myself staring back at me, the blimp would go limp.

Actually, I guess I can’t fully claim the voyeur label, either. I don’t get into watching others having sex. I even get embarrassed seeing others make-out. I suppose I fall into a sort of voyeur sub-culture: the narcissist-voyeur. Or would that be a sub-culture of narcissists?

Even those labels don’t apply. Because I have no desire to see myself doing it on film, and I’m not sitting around firing off one-gun salutes while surfing my website. (I don’t even look at the website unless RJ tells me there’s some new design or something. ) No. It’s not about the narcissism. It’s not about the voyeurism. So what is it?

It’s got to be the mirror. Even though mirrors reflect back reality (it’s always being used as a tool for metaphors of self-discovery), watching yourself move in them seems somewhat surreal. It’s easy to detach from the reality and forget it’s even you.

Maybe it’s that every thing is in reverse. Maybe it’s that it seems like a look into another world…through the looking glass, like Alice. My thing with mirrors only pops up in a sexual situations. Other than to shave or shift lanes on the highway, I hardly pay any attention to mirrors. (I’m certainly not checking myself out.) Perhaps its because a sexual situation is the one area where I have self-confidence. Or, perhaps, I’m just plain old kinky.

I never thought of myself as kinky before. Kinky people do weird stuff, right? At least that is the perception of kinky. But I believe everybody has some sort of kink (Whether its a simple as giving head with a mouth full of altoids –i recently heard about that one–or as out there as jacking your meat by wrapping a vintage G.I. Joe with the Kung Fu Grip around it…you know somebody is.) Kinks are not bad or wrong…just different. What makes it a kink is that their “thing” is simply something that the majority doesn’t get into. Or, even more accurately, a kink is something that the majority doesn’t admit they get into.

That’s all this mirror thing is: “something I get into.” I can take it or leave it. It’s not anything I look forward to or try to make happen. I’m not seeking out other mirror-sex lovers. If I run into one, great. But, if not, we can still have a damned good time. So kink is too strong a word. Fetish, maybe? Nah. It’s just something I get into. A harmless peek at the guys throwing down on the other side of the glass.

This makes me think of a set-up for a joke: A narcissist, a voyeur, and a fetishist walk into bar and he looks in the mirror…

Anybody got a good punch line?

This entry was posted on Wednesday, June 22nd, 2005 at 8:28 am and is filed under dating and sex. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.