The Cock or the Egg?

In my relationship with my partner, each and every single day has its own mushy moment.  In Filipino, we refer to such moments as our personal "baduy" moments.  It might be something like me sneaking a stuffed toy duck into my partner's packed lunch bag for the day, or him waking me up (with a little something-something) then surprising me with a magazine featuring some celebrity I like on the cover, or him coming home to find a bunch roses on the table waiting for him, and so on and so forth.  To a large extent, this ever present willingness to make each and every single day as romantically special as the first few days when we had just met seems to stem greatly from the fact that when we did meet, sex was not the first item on our agenda.

Spit or Swallow?  Why not just Cuddle?

My partner and I met because we were both happy to have found a fellow geek who was interested in something the other was.  In our case, it was a long discontinued collectible card game called Netrunner.  For him, the game was something longed to play but never really got the chance to do so.  For me, it was a game I truly enjoyed which I had long left untouched ever since my gaming group had started to move onto other games.   The moment we both realized we shared an existing frustration for the game, we realized it was by meeting up that we could finally put that frustration to rest.

NetRunner.  God it opened all these geek flirtations.
"Are you making a run?"  "No, I'm jacking off." "What??!"  "OUT! Out! Jacking out!" *blushes*

While there may have been a healthy heaping of witty banter and flirtatious comebacks, our early days of getting to know one another revolved more around sharing more of what we loved rather than indulging on the  act of making love.  Webcam sessions were for us to watch episodes of Battlestar Galactica in synch rather than randy attempts to cum on cue.  Late night trysts were more to share dinner at some fast food place or restaurant rather than escape away to the noise-resistant confines of some motel room.

Simply put, for us sex was not the initial spark that began to burn into a passionate fire.
Or to use my title's analogy, the (creative geeky) egg came before the cock.

I personally still thick the Egg came first.  Dinosaur eggs that is.

Many other gay couples I know met their partners first as someone they were grinding against on the dance  floor.   Others found what they call love from a fellow lonely stranger who offered a smile and a good opening line.   Such  meetings are no different from how I met my partner:  They were meetings which may or may not have happened had certain things happened differently.  They were meetings that finally came to pass because at least one of the two decided to take that chance, reach out, and say hello.

But sadly, a larger number of these chance encounters for some reason choose the bed as the stage where the decision of making someone a partner is made.   For some reason, regardless of the other person's physical, social or mental traits, it seems his performance in bed (and for others, which I think is even sadder, the other man's cock size) becomes the final test which will determine if the person is worth considering relationship material.    One friend once explained this to me in this manner, "If he can't make me cry out his name, then I'm gonna wave goodbye and find someone who can."

Gotta admit, one can always try more creative positions if one does choose to do it.

The Cock came before the Egg.

I used to share that mindset when I was still in college.

Back in those years, young as I was to the world and its sensual affairs (my sexual encounters prior to becoming a college freshman were far less than the number of fingers you have as a human being) and each time I thought I met someone interesting, I saw nothing wrong with expecting a good humping as a key factor in deciding if someone was worth my time.  For some reason I assumed it would be harder for someone to learn to make love better than it was for someone to be smarter.  Or be more in tune with my way of thinking.  Or be more capable of making me laugh without really trying.

See, I love Star Trek now!  :-)

I felt sex was something that on the first try had to be perfect.  

It was that damned Hollywood illusion that if someone was meant for you, plug should perfectly fit socket and the sound of slapping meat should lead to orgasmic tsunamis erupting in unison.   Maybe it was just because it was the 90s back then, but I could not recall much movies where two people having sex would have elbows bumping into faces or insertions leading to bloody painful wails.  I couldn't see why someone meant for me would have trouble swallowing or would fail to get it up on the first go.   My demands for a partner included that he (or she) perform on cue, hard (or wet) when I needed it, without any need for artificial lubrication or second attempts.

There are benefits to being Bisexual.   Yep.

Hell, I was a damn hot guy whose friends nicknamed a Sexpert! Why should I settle for anything less than a masterful toothless blowjob that milked me with the intensity of a hentai flick?

Yep.   Talk about self deluded, eh?

You know what's worse?

Until now, some people out there still have that mindset.
And they aren't exactly still in their younger years.

Sex is still being used by so many people out there as the measuring scale of a man's viability to be a partner.  Don't get me wrong, though.  I clearly understand the important role great sex and its role in the need for physical satisfaction, I am now a firm believer however that there are things that are easier to develop than others.  And better yet, some things are far better to develop together with one's partner than alone.

Sometimes all it takes is one step at a time.

Maybe I sound naive in saying this... or maybe I'm being one of the few mature enough to say this aloud, but if one chooses to make sexual performance the biggest factor of what makes a relationship work, then one should expect never to be truly happy in their relationship since any new guy who comes along might perceivably be better in the sack.  And that, in my opinion, is a relationship doomed to fall apart.

Egg before Cock and you're sure to last longer than the typical cum shot.

I'm very happy to be in a relationship that was born from mutual interests growing into shared ones.  And I love how each and every single day is excitingly a beautiful juxtaposition of shared joy and discovery.    While I have been in many relationships before, this is definitely one which feels like there ain't gonna be a time we will ever get bored of each other.

And that, I personally feel, is a relationship that is meant to last.