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It’s In His Kiss – Curse of the 20 Minute Fuck

Romance has definitely suffered in the age of the internet hook-up. There’s something very mercenary and mechanical about the whole process that renders real intimacy highly unlikely. Perhaps it’s the fact that electrically charged computer chips are arranging what chance encounters, fate and physical electricity used to create. Or is it akin to that instant gratification we receive from consuming fast food; a choice that seems like a good idea pre-consumption, but an act we almost always regret post-consummation?

One thing is true: something magical is missing. I think it’s in his kiss (or lack thereof).

You can argue that people who hook-up on the internet are actually seeking the polar opposite of intimacy, and I would agree. Intimacy with a total stranger, no matter how long you have teased each other with witty, clever double entendres and emoticons on-line, is not likely to happen. It does on occasion, but you have to be hooking up an awful lot for the odds to be in your favor.

Most internet hook-ups – and when I refer to hook-ups I am addressing the type where you go to someone’s home for the sole purpose of having sex and not those that begin with a relatively chaste meeting at the local coffee shop in the hopes of a long term relationship – resemble the machinations of romance, but lack its emotional substance. This is part of the appeal of such hook-ups for some and for others, the reason they remain unsatisfying. In a way, they are the physical/social manifestation of porn – we go through the motions without involving emotions. And like the situations found in most porn – people just show up on your door step, shed their clothes and have sex with you. What’s not to like about that?

I rarely regret a hook-up while the ball (or balls) is (are) in play, but once touch-down is achieved, the after burn can reverberate with more of a sting than a warm glow. What makes the difference? Great after care on the parts of both parties – this after care requires a little time, consideration and the participation of both parties. We’re talking about lingering looks, bodies touching; the kind of cuddling where breath and kisses are exchanged. Nothing says the party is over like one partner immediately springing up from the bed (or the garage floor, or the sofa, or …) and immediately heading for the bathroom and/or retrieving his clothing – all the while making horribly stilted small talk and avoiding eye contact. Hey – don’t get me wrong – I am just as guilty as anyone and have committed this post-coital faux pas numerous times. But in my defense - it is rare (and usually only after an episode of really bad sex or pity sex).

Overall, I think 50% of all hook-ups end awkwardly due to buyers remorse on the part of one partner or both, 10% due to catholic-jewish-religious guilt/shame and 40% due to either I-just-don’t-give-a-fuck or lack of a fucking clue. In any case – proper closure is not brought to the event and this leads to a general feeling of dissatisfaction. After such encounters I frequently ask myself – I douched and cleaned out my ass for this?

Then there is the timing factor. I must confess – I’m a clock watcher. Not during the actual act, but by the very constraints of a hook-up where punctuality is frequently an issue I am always patently aware of when the actual hook-up begins. I also take note of the time as I am leaving, usually due to a quick glance at the digital display in my car as I’m pulling away from the curb. I have discovered that the average sex act takes about twenty minutes from start to (hopefully, big) finish. This is true for any hook-up where there is no pretense of social interaction planned or implied. This is also true for any hook-up that does not involve 420 or (god forbid – and I do have a loudly broadcast moratorium on her presence during my lifetime) Miss Tina. This is also true of any hook-up that does not involve mind-blowing, breath-robbing, lip-throbbing kissing.

The twenty minute sex act (The 20 Minute Fuck) can include any and all of the following activities and/or kinks: kissing, oral, anal, rimming, armpits/feet worship, and role play. Any of these activities alone or in combination can easily take up the allotted time and result in both parties achieving orgasm (or as I like to think of it – everyone getting their cookies.) Twenty minutes is usually only enough time for two individuals. Menage a trois, group activities and gang bangs generally take a lot more time (keep in mind that in these cases there are incrementally more cookies to bake and that frequently requires more prep time).

Unfortunately, what the 20 Minute Fuck (sounds like a cookbook written by Rachel Ray, doesn’t it?) offers in the way of efficiency, it sadly lacks in intimacy. Yes, it is indeed in his kiss. Good kissing takes time. And quite frankly, I’d forgo the arrival of my cookies for really great, lingering, succulent kisses. (No, I wouldn’t. I’m such a liar.)

But kissing is the best. And it is romantic. And I wish everyone was good at it, offered them freely and frequently, felt the same as I do about them and was not stingy with them in the slightest or resented those that request them. That said – hypocrite that I am (aren’t we all?) there are people I don’t WANT to kiss (see: pity sex). But they are rare. I’ll mack with just about anybody. Provided they’re good at it. Oh, how I wish everyone was good at it.

But they’re not. Which is why the average hook-up only lasts 20 minutes.

But they’re not. Which is why the getting of the cookies trumps all.

But they’re not. And – in the course of your average internet hook-up - you only discover this once the ball(s) is(are) in motion. Which is too late to make a big deal out of it or do anything about it. (Not true. You could leave. But what about the cookies??? For god’s sake, won’t somebody think about the cookies! Honestly – when do we think about anything else?)

Good kissing. Why do so many lack this basic skill? In the case of most bad kissers, surely someone before me has pointed their glaring inability to them? If not, we all need to start doing our civic duty and point out such deficiencies experienced firsthand. Surely it is something that can be learned? (Perhaps I should teach an adult education class at the local Learning Annex?)

Obviously this kissing-thing is important to me… so why am I so resigned and willing to pursue an orgasm without it?

Because the getting of the cookies trumps all… it is the most basic of our base sexual needs.

There’s something so wrong with that.

Maybe I’m wired incorrectly (well, differently to be sure). It seems that my most basic sexual need should be grounded in intimacy. The intimacy found in deep, sensuous kisses.

Oh, if wishes were true.

I’d curse those cookies – but I know better. I’d rather have my bread buttered than have no bread.

I wonder what Rachel Ray would have to say about that?

(No, I don't.)

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