Bismarck Masangu
Body Language
May the real wankers please stand up! I repeat, may the real wankers please stand up! Well, one thing is certain, not all of us can afford to get laid. Yet
our society has little correction no sympathy for those of us who resort to
manual methods.
In fact the idea of masturbation is, to most people, unpalatable, revolting, if
not sinful. Even the perverted louts with whom I hang out view masturbation as
the hobby of wankers and silly old men. My friends would rather have their penises fall off than be caught in the act of unpartnered sex.
Unpartnered sex? The term sure sounds like a contradiction in terms because the
dynamics of sex dictate that sex be an act involving at least two people. So
same-gender couples can copulate and then shout to the world that they have had
sex. Also, applying one’s genitals to another’s mouth is considered (oral) sex.
Two people divided by space, time and matter can have (cyber) sex. Yet unpartnered sex is classified in vapid, clinical terms such as “masturbation”
and deemed the act of a depraved mind. This is hypocrisy.
It may, perhaps, surprise many women that some 97% of males do indulge in unpartnered sex. Methinks this indulgence is an attempt by men to tame themselves. Do women have any idea what it is like for men (and boys) to live
with an appendage that seems to have a brain of its own? Most days it wakes up
before we do and never ceases to embarrass us when we are in the company of women.
Thus the taming process starts early, in boyhood and adolescence, with the assistance of smutty pictures. During this period the pure orgasmic thrill outweighs the fear of getting caught in the act a far more embarrassing experience than wetting one’s bed. And then, if Old Father Hypocrisy (under the
guise of morality) doesn’t rear his ugly head, we gradu-ate to porn flicks.
When I was young and lazy, I engaged in this hobby. And, had it not been for a
friend’s warning that it would make me bald, blind and mad I might now have
an endowment every bit as impressive as my right-hand bicep!
I imagine that women probably discover the clitoris much like the heroine in the
bubble bath in erotic novels. A friend in her late twenties unabashedly admits
owning a vibrator because paying for a “slave” (read: stud) to do the job is
below her. She also informs me that she would choose touching herself over partnered sex anytime. The reason is that she best knows what she wants. Her
advice to other women is: rather than let a man fumble around, do it yourself.
She argues that, while men “masturbate as a hobby”, for many women it is tantamount to meditation.
Thankfully, the tide is turning against antiquated ideas. Not so long ago the
politics of sex sought to restrict sex to a baby-making activity within the ambit of that lamentable institution, marriage. Patriarchal norms said only men
should express sexual gratification, whereas women were assigned the responsibilities of passengers on a bus. Today sex is more openly the vehicle
for a range of emotions and drives love, affection, anger and power. So, why
can unpartnered sex not legitimately be an expression of self-love?
The instruments of unpartnered sexual enjoyment are now available in adult sex
shops all over the country. They should no longer be hidden in the back of closets and under mattresses; instead, they should be displayed on the coffee
tables. That does, I know, sound a little risqu. But it may be the only way to
lift the blanket of hypocrisy and guilt usually associated with unpartnered sex.
I look forward to the day when unpartnered sex rides the mainstream just as condoms have in the campaign against sexually transmitted diseases and HIV/Aids.
In the meantime politicians and healthcare workers must stop being shortsighted.
They should bless the day when someone says he or she has just masturbated.
One thing is certain about unpartnered sex, or masturbation. It is harmless fun,
medically and psychologically. As the saying goes in poker: “Who needs a partner
when you already have a good hand?”
May
Link to the day
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