Sex Week - What is Sexy?

inappropriate thoughts

What is sexy?

We all know the cliche answers - impressively-proportioned body parts, lap dancing, skin mags, limos with fumed windows, lingerie, bedroom hair, red lips and nails, stilettos, studly open shirts, hairy, brawny chests, etc.

Over the past few decades, everything has become sexy.  Everything must BE sexy.  We’re bombarded with the word on a daily basis, describing everything from restaurants to hairdos to dog breeds to cars.  It’s now even a noun - apparently, sexy was lost, because a few years ago, Justin Timberlake found it and brought it back.  (Nothing against JT; I love the kid.) Now, it’s get your sexy on. Bring your sexy out. Strut your sexy about town.

Sexy must be exhausted.  It’s been so very abused.

Although what’s sexy is highly subjective, the general gender consensus is that men are sexy-visual and women, sexy-conditional. Women want moonlight and canoes, men, just the quickest path to surface gratification.

Neither tenet is fully accurate.  Because the best sexy begins in the brain, not the nether-regions.

Whoever said that the biggest sex organ is the brain got it so right.  Sure, it’s possible to engage in purely physical sex, stimulated in body only; people do it every night.  And the more you do it, the more you buy into surface-sexy, you know that after the initial rush, it’s ultimately unsatisfying.

But stimulate your brain first, and that’s when the real fun begins.  Tickle your brain and your body will follow.  Your little monkey brain is just waiting to show you what’s really sexy.

It’s not what everyone else says is sexy that matters. The secret to true sexy is inside your own cranium, what you formulate.

Have you ever seen a fencing bout?  The parry-and-thrust action, the hesitations, the final “kill” plunge of the epee.

Now think about a stimulating conversation you’ve had with someone you really like.  Someone you’d like to get to know better, i.e., horizontally.  Good parry-and-thrust conversation echoes fencing; it’s verbal foreplay.  I’m not talking mere flirting here.  I’m talking connection - serious eye contact, cryptic comments, Mona Lisa smiles, pregnant silences, mental pictures forming, lightly touching an arm or a hand as you make a point, that frisson, that cringe in the small of your back. That’s sexy.

Sexy is how someone’s face lights up when they see you, and when they talk of things they’re passionate about.  The timbre of their voice, and what it sounds like when they say your name.  How they laugh.  How they hold themselves.  Their walk.  Imagining skin-on-skin.  Learning, savoring their scent.  The sound of their breathing.  How they touch your hair, your face.  Their kiss.  Most definitely their kiss.

It’s not so much what someone wears, or a particular body part (well, maybe boobs, but I have to say that - I’m in the union), but rather the organic person him/herself.

The sexiest thing in the world is chemistry.  Connection.  Communion.

Or as Charlie Chaplin once said, “Your naked body should only belong to those who fall in love with your naked soul.”

How sexy is that?

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