I am experiencing gender confusion. Think of it: Celibate, PolyAmorous, Asexual, Lesbian, Gay, BiSexual, TransGender, Intersexed, Queer.
I have been all these things (at one time or another) whenever a situation seemed to require it. You do enough of that and eventually all orifices begin to look alike. Talk about confusion.
Even the protuberances become mere supporting structures guiding one into the pink, undulating, lubricious, steaming center of the Pile. Anybody remember Plato's Retreat? But I digress.
I have come to the conclusion that I am a member of a hitherto unsung sexual minority: the Polymorphous Perverse. Thank you, Sigmund Freud and Merriam Webster, for clearing it all up for me.
adj.
Characterized by or displaying sexual tendencies that have no specific direction, as in an infant or young child, but that may evolve into acts that are regarded as perversions in adults;
and:
Relating to or exhibiting infantile sexual tendencies in which the genitals are not yet identified as the sole or principal sexual organs nor coitus as the goal of erotic activity.
I thought I would be relieved by aging of wanting to DO almost everyone that is of age and willing. No such luck. Instead I have developed a faint moustache. I do blame some of this confusion and frenetic activity on the Menopause. When the estrogen went ByeBye, I was swept away by a tidal wave of testosterone. I have never looked back.
Human sexual variation is a fact of life; it is not an opinion, a sin, or a choice. I am so fricking old that I remember the Sixties. I was there. If It feels good, do It.
And then somebody will find a name for It, ban It, write a book about It, make a video of It, develop a program for swearing off It and/or a pill to make the sensations more exquisite. Ah, modern life.