Buns of Death

I’ve often been complimented on my derriere, and even as a middle-aged man I am happy to say it continues to be firm and perky. A recent seal of approval was one I had not heard in a while, spankable. I would have preferred kissable or lickable, but alas our fantasies do not always align with the reality of the person we are with. Still, I am not complaining, I am more than grateful that middle age has not turned my firm little cheeks into either an oversized pair of sultanas or a drooping bit of lard knocking about my knees.

The sight and touch of a firm and furry male derriere is a turn-on for me, always has been – since my earliest sexual awareness and arousal back when dinosaurs roamed the planet. A new reality, however, has begun to unsettle my mid-life years. Being attracted to men more or less my age, I find myself more and more wondering if I will be able to see past the ravages that time takes on our bodies?

Common understanding dictates that men are more visually stimulated than women, and supposedly shallower for it. I am not so sure as I think the love that men have for each other runs very deep indeed. Still, there remains the problem of our coming to grips with the inevitable droops and wrinkles that are part of maturing. As I look around for models to emulate, I am once again drawn to my experiences with Sacred Intimacy for they have taught me how to expand my consciousness through touch – something massively important in a world dominated by the sense of vision. If you doubt its primacy, just try imagining a porn industry based on smell or touch?

After having done hundreds of massage trades, my experience tells me we are wired to be touched. Naturally there have been those bodies much more visually attractive than others. Yet visual beauty was not the determining factor for an awesome massage experience. The difference always had to do with touch – both in giving and receiving. Vision, however, is a jealous god that is made even more potent by the youth oriented culture in which we are constantly bathed by photos of bodily perfection. Little wonder that so many people have feelings of low self-esteem around body images.

There is hope, however. Sure the advertising industry is throwing in the odd shots of aging baby boomers as we enter our mature years, but the predominance for physical perfection and youth will not change. Maybe this is what a visually oriented world demands? So be it. However, the real change will come from within each and every one of us just as it did when we were coming out – when we were changing the world. It is about self acceptance and love. It’s about putting the flaws into perspective and moving on. Being naked and touching each other are crucial. As I have said often in these posts, these are the moments  when we are the most human with each other. If I can be naked with a friend and touching him, maybe even giving him a woodie or even a squirt, then I feel we have truly communed – that we have  been connected in the most profound of ways. And best yet, in these moments we feel forever young and immortal.