Does it matter? Should we care—about penis-tweeting husbands playing their games on company time?
I have been a bit contrarian lately in upholding the Pro-Sex community banner: anything is good between consenting adults. Weiner let us down. I can’t defend his right to be a sophomoric jerk flashing his penis to women online, a harmless hobby (unless his penis was really offensive) if your job doesn’t make you a target for, say blackmail, or, in his case, losing your valuable liberal vote in Congress.
On a more personal level, why do women (like in this case me) not slap these guys down?
"So tell your story,” the the Sexy Beast said with a sneer, inviting a public smack-down.
He contacted me about a year ago through Facebook (when I was still on Facebook.) We had mutual “friends”, he said. All his “friends” were porn actresses; and since I am a sex book author/journalist/blogger, probably we did have a mutual “friend” if not two.
According to his faceless profile, his name was his real named, spelled backwards. So clever.
He said he lived in the middle of the woods, way outside St. Louis. I was born and raised on the Illinois side of St. Louis and began my journalism career writing for St. Louis magazine. We shared the bond of native geography.
He lost no time in telling me his conventional back story: Early 50s, long married to college girlfriend turned into “sexually unadventurous out-of-shape wife, cold and rejecting, hasn’t initiated sex in over a year, considers his masturbating to porn ‘cheating’ and rarely wants to have the most conventional sex”—while he, of course, has a high libido and is eager to explore a little kink. He said he “walked on egg shells” around her because she was so easily angered and was “afraid” to tell her how he “felt about anything.”
Yet he was “more or less happy in a stable marriage” and wasn’t interested in leaving his wife, only in having an affair. He felt “entitled” to sex outside marriage because he wasn’t getting much inside—and he had “given up [his] own pleasure for too long”.
Frankly, I can’t blame him for that. Though I have avoided married men since I had an affair with one when I was thirty—It ended when he told his wife who took me out to dinner and begged me to leave him alone—I have usually been on the side of anyone, male or female, getting their sexual needs met outside a sexless (or nearly so) marriage if they practice safer sex and do it without humiliating their partners.
I did wonder what her side of the story would sound like. Would she say that he didn’t satisfy her and that’s why she withheld sex? Was she really dumpy and cranky? Was he as cowed by her as he presented? I wondered, but I committed myself to his side, easy to do when I didn’t know her, his emails were passionate and his penis photos stellar.
His recitation of marital dissatisfaction was so common. I would bet that a third of husbands out there in suburban married land are on Facebook under fake names telling that same story (unless they’re pretending to be single), including a reference to wife as “crazy”, pouring it out to the women they “friend.” Facebook truly is the face of America--including the phony hypocrites.
I liked him, not because of his initial mundane story—but because he quickly proved himself to be one of the best male erotica writers I’ve ever read. You agreed with me. The Sexy Beast has a fan base here. A relationship developed between me and him andhim and my readers. I felt a connection to him that I’d never felt for online strangers.
When he went to Las Vegas on a business trip, got “drunk” and spent $2500 on lap dances and a hooker, he confided in me. We had an emotional/fantasy affair via email and phone (on his company-issued cell phone.) Finally, we spent a hot four days together in New York City—he was separated by then; she’d shocked the hell out of him by walking out—and only this week ended it all, though I had been long tired of his childish response to the split that un-moored him and his retreat to passive/aggressive husbandly behavior when she, after months of almost no communication, said she wanted back in. I ended it.
In our last conversation though he was pleased to report that his estranged wife had agreed to wear leather in bed for him—Really?!—mitigating his disappointment at not making physical contact with a Facebook “friend” in the St. Louis area last weekend—he didn’t suggest ending our relationship. (“It was a setup,” he emailed. “Her friends took her phone and tried to set her up.”) I did.
The vision of this, in his words, “cold, rejecting, sexually uptight, low libido” woman wanting so badly to go back to him (probably because whatever plan propelled her out of the house did not reach fruition) that she would uncharacteristically agree to wear leather—well, that made me sad for her, even though I was pretty sure she’d nail him for the inconvenience (and possibly chafed thighs) once she was firmly back in charge. Truthfully, I've been feeling sad for her since she let him have sex after his set-up meeting didn't happen ("She did not reject me.") surely in the hopes of getting back into the house faster. ("No way," he wrote in his post-coital email. "I am taking at least the summer to rediscover myself.")
FakeMen on Facebook--aren't they great?
But why does any of this matter to you, dear reader?
Tomorrow, THE WEINER SYNDROME--Husbands Texting Penis Photos And Looking For Sex On Facebook (On Company Time), Part Two: Why It Matters
Demand Real Men lovers with Real Names.
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