Sex and Intercourse

Sex is complicated.

Sex is synonymous with intercourse. Linguistically, I know why this is the case, but I don’t think that most of us do understand this correlation. This relationship, between sex and intercourse – in words.

Sex is different than how we typically talk about it. Sex is much more diverse and voluptuous than black and white.

Sex is intercourse. Sex is a dialogue. Sex is chemistry.

Sex is and isn’t penetration.

…I refuse to take any more poor lovers, tattered in clothing and mind, beggars by experience and ignorant by education…

(Myself included)

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Sex is not nighttime. Not always, anyway.

Sex can be 10 o’clock in the morning after your lover invites you over. She says, the front door is open. I’m in my bed. Come, now.

Sex is penetration. But it is not just about the kind of penetration that cocks and cunts perform.

And sometimes, orgasms happen in the head, not in the groin. In the stomach.

Sometimes, orgasms are the intensities that you take with you and remember hours and days later, when you are alone again, crawling with sexuality and her scent still all over your body because you did not shower after your hot, sticky morning.

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Human sexuality, clearly, is nothing new. However, it is interesting that the word “sex” is.

Sex, as meaning “sexual intercourse” in the English lexicon was first seen in 1929, in the writings of D.H. Lawrence.

Alternately, sex was found in the following phrases, in the following years:

“Sexually attractive”, 1932.

“Sex appeal”, 1924.

“Sex drive”, 1918.

“Sex object”, 1911, in a reference to Jesus Christ of Nazareth (source, http://www.etymonline.com).

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Sex is intercourse.

From the Latin, intercursus, intercourse means, “a running between”.

From Modern French, entrecours, intercourse means, “ a communication, to and fro”.

Intercourse, meaning “sexual relations”, was first recorded in English, in 1798.

This predates the English word that we typically use to indicate intercourse – “sex” – by 133 years.

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Sex is feeling more than knowing when she wants to crawl out of her panties and expose her heat to you; when she wants you in her mouth; when she opens her legs to invite your fingers inside…

Sex is about dynamics. It’s about a long, protracted ascent. But it’s also about the decent and the rest in the valley. Kisses on the shoulder. The kneading of muscles. The building of more urge and energy to ascend, again – this time, a different peak.

Sometimes sex is about words. It’s about direction. It’s about, this way. Right there. Don’t stop what you’re doing. Or, no, that way…

…I’m coming…

Sex is me inside of her mouth, and flickering around her tongue. Sex is the sensations that rush through me like a meltdown. A flood. An electrical charge.

Sex is escape from the bright day outside. Sex is the birds and the new bees of this new spring season. Sex is and isn’t about that world so far removed from our bodies, and this darkened room right now.

And amazing sex is when you are breathless, sweating from the heart outward and standing so close to orgasm for so many minutes at a time that you continually are wondering why your legs haven’t given out yet.

Amazing sex is this 10 a.m. lover, hidden behind heavy drapes in a tall four-post bed. Amazing sex is this lover disguised as a pack of wolves, devouring you as sharply as you are devouring her in this, the hottest of two-way roads.

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Sex is not simple. It’s not concrete.

And this is exactly where sex intersects with everything thrilling.

Sex is contingent. Sex is about a moment. Sex is fluid. Sex is about movement and sensation. It’s about ultimate human emotion. And yes,

Sex is about: communication. It’s about two people sharing more than words. This is the body as a sentence. Arms and legs as exclamations, and dimples and nerve endings as periods of titillating confirmations, being traced by fingers longing for more.

Sex is about feeling-out a situation and then sticking your tongue into it, when the moment begs to be, whet, or just, wet.

In all of this, sex is about learning. It’s the same aptitude that is involved in creating and the sustaining a dialogue, or verbal conversation.

Sex is about learning how she gyrates her hips and how I fit within that motion. Sex is knowing that wants me to open her ass while I am inside of slick, wetness. Sex is about those sounds which scream to you “yes” in a whisper, and without word.

Here, life is fluid. Sex is fluid. It is about movement and going along with the tides of life. It is not about a cross-grained evaluation. Or something that is diagrammed-out.

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Sex is:

In that dark room, while the birds are chirping outside, flying through the airstreams of life and the teeming systems of spring coming.

Sex is not a simple equation of: Flirting, then foreplay, then penetration, then orgasm. It’s not always about a bed and positions.

Like eroticism, sex is penetration (conversation).

Like eroticism, sex is intercourse (communication).

Sex is an aptitude. And more than that:

Sex is a moment. And capitalizing on what that moment has presented you.

Sex may only be a couple minutes of penetration with your cock. Sex may be a dizzying make-out session. When you come that close to someone else, sex is not a line – it’s a feeling.

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Sometimes there is a fear – that if you cannot pound her for hours then you are not a man. And if she cannot get wet, then she is not a sexual, child-bearing woman.

Sometimes there is a fear for her, that she shakes too much. That she moans in strange ways. Screams in others.

Amazing sex does not stand here, in magazine descriptions. In anatomical manuals.

Heart-pounding sex is about fingers and pads of palms and tongues just as much as it is about a cock and a cunt. And orgasms come from the mind, if they don’t entirely reside there. To be mind-fucked as hard as you are penetrated otherwise is one of the most intense sensations that a human can comprehend.

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Sex is standing in front of the questions and feeling the wind try and blow you back. Sex is the quivering and quaking that you feel when you stand in front of the colossal questions of existence.

This is why your legs tremble. This is why your heart pounds.

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And while the life outside, in the green sun-soaked day, rolls by; and while the televisions flicker with their own pornography – we are inside. We are coming, together and apart.

Without words we somehow understand one another.

…and then the erotica writers try to grasp and reach and claw for some subtle description that will impossibly encapsulate one of those shared moments…

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Then again, maybe sex is only what I know it to be. Feel it to be. Want it to be.

Maybe sex is different for you.

Hopefully, it is.

~ by The Provocateur on May 12, 2008.

5 Responses to “Sex and Intercourse”

  1. A cogent, lucid, sublime write, sir… much like sex. Yes. I understand the grasp and reach and claw of attempting to string together words to describe the experience that it is. It is most certainly more than the physical exchange. It’s greatest power is found in the inbetween of it all. Leastways, I think so.

  2. Provocateur, a very interesting piece on sex.. I am curious to know your opinion on the difference between sex and eroticism… For as the aim of sex is gratification, in eroticism the aim is to ever expand and reach out in a continuum.. What do you think? TDL

  3. I waited far too long to read this. Thank you for it.

  4. Brilliant. Bold. Beautiful. Thank you.

  5. I’m at a complete loss for words. This was pure poetry. Thank you!

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