Pansexual Polyfetishist?

Obviously I’m outside my métier.

Even for me it is an outré preamble to few notes about why I call myself a pansexual polyfetishist. We’ll ignore the latter: it just means I have lots of kinks to scratch.

Outside of botany pansexual isn’t a technical word, doesn’t have a precise definition. Pan means “all” or “everything.” As in pantheism.

I suspect that most people who call themselves pansexual are really bisexual. Perhaps they just are trying to seem special. But their sexual responses to males and females seem commonplace. And I have my doubts about the transvestite admirers. Some men can’t admit their lust for a cock without it being hidden under a skirt. And others want crossdressers to be ‘real’ women in a sordid way.

Several years ago I had a sudden series of erotic “satoris.”

I realized that crossdressers in their various ways could be attractive.

Equally, transsexuals at each stage of their transformation. Aside from a few special cases (mtf) transsexuals should be seen as legitimately female. But in their minds transsexuals retain the experiences of gender dysphoria and the transformation.

Transsexuals are not to be confused with the classical image of the hermaphrodite. A “chick with a dick” or a boy with breasts who wants to remain that way is exceedingly rare. Most pre-operative transsexuals who exploit their bodies are trying to earn the money for sexual reassignment surgery.

And intersexuality may be biologically atypical but I can’t imagine sexual being sexually repelled by an intersexual person.

There isn’t a style of ambiguously gendered self-presentation that is erotically unappealing. Wanting to look like a middle-class hausfrau is aesthetically objectionable.

As I’ve grown older physical configuration and gender self-perception has seemed increasingly less relevant to erotic desire and sympathy.

Mere bisexuality doesn’t encompass the varied ways in which people enjoy their erotic life, biological diversity or the increasingly large spectrum of gender identities.

Male. Masculine/androgynous. I do feel that there are small strands derived from female role models but have never established a truly clear sense of this. Partly a disconnect with certain norms that leaves me unable to properly decode or decipher them.

Queer pansexual if you include my social orientation. Being different isn’t inherently meaningful but despite my demeanor I can’t identify with heterosexuality.

Coming to this erotic inner space has been part of my journey.

It has been a complicated, sometimes muddy ramifying of what was in me from the beginning but expressed itself only slowly.

As a teen my hormones gave me the same jolts as any other lad. I lusted after girls (and to a lesser degree and unwittingly boys). But I can’t share any stories with you of pining and moaning about it. I masturbated and went back to my book. Woman as unapproachable his no adolescent history in me.

At eighteen when I decided that I was gay my sexuality exploded. I had a late, compressed adolescence after leaving school and moving to the big city. The world was filled with beautiful bodies and happily some of them wanted me. (There’s nothing like a pretty one jumping in your lap and shoving a tongue in your mouth.)

So I missed out on those complicated heterosexual mating rituals with which the majority encumber their sex lives. While I did enjoy taking a pretty youth out to a dinner it wasn’t as if a presentable enough gay man has to do anything more than be in the right place.

And the women I’ve known well have been more bohemian than bourgeois.

Eventually I realized that I was attracted to more than my own sex. How did I forget how girls seemed at sixteen? Never figured that one out.

There was still some unlearning to do. It took me years to discern that I’d made the assumption that the post Women’s Liberation Movement gender norms would merge into something unisex.

Instead of uniformity we’ve gained a wonderful diversity of ways of performing gender.

That I’m dismissive of gender differences above hasn’t left me without a lively appreciation of those differences.

Having much to contrast I’m keenly aware of the various geometries of the breast, the miracles with makeup, nuances of attire. Women have so many ways of confounding their admirers. (And those who choose to not do so are not to be despised.)

Funnily I have my distinct ways in which I enjoy each of the main genders. A guy with a naïve look has often bent my heart. In woman it is intelligent eyes.

Anymore I tend to think of my sexuality as adaptive. I’ve always tried to become what the other person wanted. Admittedly this was often assertiveness. But that works out pretty well for a man who enjoys submission. And even better if your partner wants many different things from you.

Not that I really expect you to have read all of this.