horniness

Scents and Non-scents

Fri, 2008-08-15 15:13

Commons
Photo “Drue checks Heather’s pheromones” by Flickr user Brouhaha (Jonathan). Used under a Creative Commons license.

Oh Noes! Teh Pill! It affects Woemenz Nozez! ZOMG!**

Because you know what windup little smell-driven automatons women are. Because without that nasty Pill bollixing your nostrils you’d all go back to sticking with your partners no matter how big an asshole they turned out to be. Better outlaw them pills then.

Whatevs.

Actually, I heard about the study, or maybe something along the same lines, some time last Winter, before it got picked up and politicized as some kind of reason women shouldn’t be allowed to take the pill. Instead fellow classmate brought it up during her student research presentation on the effect of scent on sexual arousal.

The way she told it was that non-pregnant women are often more attracted to the smell of men who are genetically unlike them, but when they are they prefer the scent of men they’re more closely related to. She said that since hormonal birth control simulates pregnancy that going on the pill can alter one’s preference for the scent of one’s partner.

That actually made sense, and a number of women in the class nodded and said they’d noticed something like that when going on or off the pill during a relationship.

But here’s the deal: neither the presenter nor anyone who nodded their heads indicated it was a particularly big deal.

Which suggests, as with the stupid oxytocin-burnout argument for (only women, naturally) avoiding multiple partners***, the scent-preference-altering phenomenon, even if it does exist, can’t be all that strong, right? I mean think about how the ‘winger vision’s supposed to go

A) Non-pregnant women like the way unrelated men smell, so
B) They form lifelong, abstinenet-till-marriage, monogamous-afterwards relationships with these unrelated men, and
C) Become pregnant, whereupon according to these theories
D) Their scent preferences just as they would during pill-induced artificial preference change meaning… what?
E) While they lose interest in these genetically heterodox-scented partner for the duration of their pregnancies?

Except, well
F) I don’t think it works that way. Or
G) If it does it’s not a very strong effect, because
H) Pregnant women would always avoid their genetically heterodox-scented husbands and hang out with their genetically “homodox”-scented male relatives, which
I) We don’t, um, actually see because
J) Scent isn’t the only attraction criteria in the first place, nor
K) Even if scent was the only criteria items A-I suggest it couldn’t be terribly determinative because, y’know, most people stay together
L) Whether they’re pregnant, or on the pill, or not

[** In other words a lot of people have been commenting on the peculiar conclusion anti-contraceptive types have drawn about a very small, not-even-all-that-recent study about hormonal contraception and scent. —fl]

[** The claim is that repeated oxytocin release with multiple partners causes women to burn out on romance. The fly in that ointment is that pregnancy releases a gazillion times more oxytocin and yet after birth most women a) continue to harbor romantic feelings after birth and b) consider having additional children. Part b being, for me, the bigger deal breaker. If a little too much oxytocin is supposed to make one unable to form romantic attachments ever again then lots more of the same stuff ought to make women disinclined to get pregnant again or, especially, disinclined to love subsequent children. And not to put too fine a point on it, in most cases where we encounter women burning out on romance or childbearing the reasons tend to be a lot more clear cut than hormone-receptor exhaustion. But I digress… —fl]

Familiar Sensation, Unusual Admission

Fri, 2008-02-15 16:49

So I’m going to say something I usually don’t. I usually don’t say it because I’m not, at the moment, that which I’m about to say. Other times… quite often really… I don’t say it because I’m shy. And so without further ado, and before I chicken out, I’m feeling a little horny at the moment. (Whew!) It’s a totally inappropriate moment for it as far as practicality is concerned. I’m sitting in the living room where almost anyone in the neighborhood could stroll by and see me.

There’s nobody here to be horny with, and yet for reasons I just explained I can’t really unbutton my button-fly jeans and stroke myself. (If nothing else I just heard hammering and, looking out the window it occurs to me that if I can see roofers pounding away at the neighbors they they could probably see me.) It’s also doubly impractical because my partner will return from picking up everyone from school and, on Fridays especially, playdates are … make that triply impractical then. And finally, while I might ordinarily just slip off somewhere more private for a personal “moment” I’m on the couch in the living room with a head cold, surrounded by tissues and cough drops and zinc lozenges (no, I know they don’t do anything) and stacks of teacups with lemon in them. If I felt like moving since I got back from my last band performance (playing bass for a school play) I might have long since done so.

So anyway, here I am, sitting on the couch, nose streaming, tissues everywhere, and just a little bit horny — not horny enough to have an erection or anything, just a bit of a stirring in the deep muscles signaling “ready when you are” — and staring mournfully at my ancient 70’s era mother of pearl belt buckle that for all its heft unhooks easily, and at the buttons in the long fly of my black Levi, the ones where the first button is a bit tricky to undo but thereafter you just take a little twist of the wrist and each succeeding button pops, pops, pops open all the way, way, way down low enough that my cock could be sprung free without sliding off my pants… and yet no matter how much fun that might be it won’t be. Cold. Children. Roofers. Bustle. All conspires to render such possibilities moot.

But! I hope going pretty much against type and admitting that I’m modestly horny, if unable to do anything except talk about it, will make you mildly horny too. Because misery loves company. :-) Because whereas nobody wants to catch someone else’s cold I’m not sure if they mind catching someone else’s horniness.

[Note: Accompanying photo less work-safe than usual. Also, I wrote this yesterday afternoon and… promptly feel asleep without posting it. Not exactly consistent with either horniness or savoir faire, but it is consistent with this wretched cold. :-) —fl]

Not To Paraphrase Oscare Wilde or Anything But...

Mon, 2008-02-11 07:08

As i was turning on the coffee maker this morning I had the odd realization that

Horniness is one of those things we value so highly that we start thinking about ways to get rid of it as soon as we start to feel it.

Drive? Really? Sex *Drive?*

Fri, 2007-08-10 08:05

Quick question: why do we call one thing an appetite for food and the other a sex drive? Ever think about how many curious little assumptions are built into the word “drive?”

I’d say the biggest assumption behind the word “drive” is lack of control wouldn’t you? And with lack of control comes what? Lack of responsibility for our behavior when we’re horny, eh?

Now thanks, I think, to the “no-sex” class paradigm most assertions of control-free sex “drive” tag men. (“Thinking with my little head” and “pussy whipped” both combine the combination of disquiet and contempt we’re trained to feel towards horniness.) But in a comment to one of SassyWho’s guest posts at Feministe “Older” brought home the point that it’s not just men:

...my daughter and I once read an article that said men are handicapped by being willing to do stupid things on account of sex, and I said to her “If I hadn’t done stupid things on account of sex, you wouldn’t be here…”

The point being that to the extent “drive” really affects any of us it affects all of us.

My big concern is that by calling it a drive instead of an appetite (the term I’d prefer) we mask mere irresponsibility with innate, no-doubt biological helplessness.

“He just swept me off my feet”
“She hypnotized me with her eyes”
“He was so tall and dark and handsome”
“Her blouse was just so low-cut!”

Yeah right, in those situations we just can’t help ourselves.

Anyone else here think that’s all socially constructed? Anyone else here think it facilitates alienating ourselves from our own sexuality and the sexuality of others? Anyone else here think calling it a “drive” creates a convenient excuse for scaring women out of walking the streets at night or for tacitly condoning men for enforcing that fear? Anyone else here think calling it a “drive” allows us to excuse the rapturous pleasure of an “indiscretion” so that we don’t have to admit we enjoyed ourselves and can pretend, instead, that our actions were beyond our control… preserving a consensual illusion that we’re ordinarily “not that way?”

Not so sure that sex “drive” is socially constructed? What would happen to “drive” if we could just say “I’m committed to my partner but I have towels and lubricant in the bathroom if you’d like step in there and masturbate?” Or “I’m getting really horny from this conversation so I’d like to change the subject?” Or even “Woah, I’m not really into that but my friend John loves it… I’ve got his number right here?” Or any number of other ways to acknowledge and accommodate our sexual appetites inside of conversation instead of pretending it’s all about inarticulate “drive?”

I’m not saying we have to do it in conversation, just that we easily, easily could. And since we could, that we don’t is a social choice…

... not something we’re socially driven to!

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