All Write, Already!

So maybe it’s just me, but to enjoy sex I need connection.

I watch television and see men falling in love with the toasters, and while they’re undeniably beautiful they’re missing out on the supremely real women who surround them.

Relationships and sex differ for everyone, I assume. Some are satisfied to have one monogamous relationship, others need lovers on the side, others still desire multiple loving relationships and so on. What I know to be true of myself is a need for connection, longing, desire, romance and play.

Though, to write about a potentially humorous topic with absolute seriousness would be a waste. So, hypothetically the only way I’d ever have sex with a cyborg would be if I were tricked. If you could build a cyborg who started out as a desirable, funny, friendly guy I would probably befriend him. Then, as the friendship continued I’d find myself more and more interested, asking myself “Is this perhaps the PERFECT man?” and alternating that thought with the worry that something is wrong with everyone, and this guy must have a really serious issue if he seems so perfect in every other way.

So, I would start to assess the cyborg’s every move. Critical of every word he uttered and every move he made, I would watch him and wait for the imminent flaw to reveal itself. I would fall into a deep state of lust as he proved to me with every passing day that there was nothing wrong with him at all.

Eventually the temptation would be too great and I would give in to my desire. After an hour of passionate sex I’d lay on his smooth chest and ask him the burning question that I’d been too afraid to utter before this moment.

“So, I’ve got to know. You seem like the perfect man to me. There’s got to be something wrong with you. What is it?”

He’d twirl his fingers through my hair, look deeply into my eyes and answer “I am perfect. That’s how they built me.”