I met a woman the other day. I felt immediately attracted to her in that visceral, sexual way. There was no obvious reason to explain it. I felt it within a moment of meeting her, before I knew anything of her. She was not unattractive, but nor was she particularly attractive – perhaps a tad more than what is deemed average. She had a good smile on her and a forthright manner, and perhaps this was a reason why I thought later.
Whatever I felt she seemed to feel too. If she was forthright, if she smiled, then perhaps it was in response to me. We stood there talking about other things sensing this without saying a word about it. Later she passed by and turning gave me a fond smile as if were old acquaintance. In the days after she called, ostensibly on matters of business, but there something more personal in our manner as we spoke, and, it seemed, a lingering reluctance to end the conversation.
When I saw her next I felt coy. Like lots of men I’m occasionally distrustful of my feelings. I’m wary of exposing myself too much. She commented on that. Given our superficial relationship it was never a comment you would expect – but it seemed perfectly reasonable. I made an excuse, smiled, then opened up. We talked some more and she related to me an intimacy that only added flavour to our connection. I wanted to fuck her, as I had from the moment I set eyes on her, as I have imagined in detail ever since. I think she wants to be fucked.
After she parted that second time I thought I understood how this connection was made – and how these spontaneous moments of attraction occur. I’m a man who likes women. I think she’s a woman who likes men. When those people encounter each other there is an immediate and unconscious understanding. We identify each other as like beings, which opens doors to those deeper and more sensual parts of ourself. In that process there is a fusing of desire. Something fizzes between you on contact.
People walk around, fully 90% of them, happy with what they’ve got. Most people, I think, admit to a higher sex drive than average. Like most claims of this ilk it’s nonsense, as it must be – most people can’t be above average. In any case, how is one to judge against others?
Ironically I’m one of those who claim the very same, but in my case at least have the history to justify it. In actual fact though I don’t know that sexual desire can really and properly measured by how many sex partners and frequency of sex. I’d like to think there is something more mystical about it. It’s a state of being.
I think that’s what S and I felt at the very same moment – an interest, an open-ness, a disdain for boundaries, freedom of expression. That’s a lot in a moment, particularly when none of it is explicit. It’s a kind of permission to give expression to those things we keep out of public view. Among other things it’s that sense of liberation that infuses you.
It’s very rare. It sits in you dormant. None of it comes to life with the 90% of contented fish. It’s not ever more than a casual consideration, and only when you find someone you respond to in the conventional physical way – get a load of her!
It’s only with that other 10% – if it is that many – that the magic occurs. Out of sight, out of mind, the well-greased doors slide open seemingly of their own accord. It’s not in your head but in your belly, and parts south for reasons you can’t understand at first. With those few the circuit is closed, and the electricity flows through your body.