Hey, Got A Cam? Cybersex and Masturbation.

show me ur tits. squeeze em.
oh, yah, baby. ur so hot. hard now.

Ah, the internet: Where the flame of romance never dies.

I’ve been talking about masturbation for the last 10 days or so. How can I possibly ignore cybersex?
The butt of many jokes, cybersex is still vastly overlooked for its potential to destroy the modern relationship as we know it. But that’s changing. Mental health pros are finding themselves inundated with sex addictions these days – more than ever before. It turns out that cybersex is the crack cocaine of sex addiction.
It’s changing the dynamics of human relationships. Communication was already doing pretty shitty before this, but now it’s plummeting to all-time lows.
Now, I’m not trying to be an expert in double-speak here, but I gotta revisit earlier claims that masturbation wasn’t addictive. Let’s qualify that. In the same way that marijuana is not addictive, so too is masturbation not.
Dope, you can get pretty compulsive about. Hell, I’m first in line to admit to marijuana compulsions. It’s “not really” addictive because it can be kicked with a little self-control. I think masturbation’s the same. You can be compelled to do it far more than you should be doing it, yeah. Absolutely. But that ain’t addiction, that’s a user malfunction. It’s a user with an addictive personality, someone with lacks somewhere, who’s trying to fill the need with a substitute of choice.
Hell, that’s life, most days. That ain’t a candybar, honey, that’s a need for affection and someone’s lovin’ arms around ya. Same deal. The only thing is, masturbation’s so much easier to paint with that brush of judgement than, say, having a second helping of pasta. “Oh, but’s a cream sauce, I get it. I can relate.
Needs are needs, and sometimes we fullfil ‘em the wrong way, but we all got the needs, and we all got compulsions.
I’ve done cybersex. Sure. I masturbated when I did, sure. But he had it better at his end, ‘cos after all, cybersex is all about the verbs. Me, I got verbs. Girl’s got vocab, baby. So, I was left a little unquenched, but thank god I was in good hands: Mine.
And that’s the beauty of cybersex. It’s sex on demand, and you know it’s gonna deliver – every single time. With every click, every page, appeasement, baby. You get to fill your own needs, so you get off, fully, completely, each and every time. It leaves everything up to you, it’s more selfish, intensely personal, voyeuristic, and ultimately, it’s all in your head.
Just like every drug I’ve ever had. Personal. Selfish. Imaginative. Voyeuristic. All me. That’s drug use for you, whether you’re into cocaine or Jim Beam, so when anyone tells you cybersex ain’t just like a drug, tell ‘em for me that they don’t know shit.
I think there’s nothing wrong with a little cyber-dallying. Do I? No, I don’t. It’s not my bag – repetitive, uninspiring, and has the feel of those dirty jeans you find on the corner of the floor in a jam – does the job, takes care of the moment’s needs, but a little too loose’n’easy for a real good fit. However, if the right lit man came ‘round with a suitably sexy repertoire of vocab, I’d find myself curious how he’d play through words, sure.
Cybersex worries me, it does. I see dire times ahead for human relationships. I see a time when we’ll be unable to ask for sex in a healthy, seductive kind of way. I see romance and foreplay taking wrong turns. I see communication growing increasingly truncated, and I see us becoming far too introspective and inward-driven to really know how to interact in a meaningful way anymore. In that way, the masturbation is the enabling act that makes it feel “real” when it’s so not.
It’s freaky. I heard about Isaac Asimov’s Robot series and how, in one of the books, he predicted cybersex would transpire – in 3500 AD. Here we are, only 50 years later, doing exactly that — communicating through screens, performing for each other instead of being real, using shortcuts for dialogue instead of fully expressing what’s on our mind. As science fiction, it’s interesting, as reality, it’s disconcerting.
I think it all comes down to balance, really. Masturbation’s awesome, but if you’re sitting around your apartment masturbating all day (must be nice to have such resilient skin and tissue), you might want to consider if it’s doing as much for you as you’re letting yourself believe. It’s about reality checks and knowing when too much of a good thing’s too much. It’s about remembering that your home comes with a door, and when you open that door, a world is at your heels. This virtual shit, well… “Virtual” says it all, really: Nearly real, but, like, not.
I always love to say, “It is what it is.” In this instance, cybersex, masturbation, remember, it ain’t what it ain’t. I ain’t never gonna be what you want it to be. If you’re aware of that, then you’re fine. If you forget that, or lose the desire for the real deal, then you’ve got to take a look at yourself.

9 thoughts on “Hey, Got A Cam? Cybersex and Masturbation.

  1. Horny Old Guy

    I’ve tried it a few times but the novelty quickly wore off. It’s hard to type with just one hand, it took far too long for the end result and I always wondered if “HOTTIE_BABY” was really a pot bellied 57 year old gay plumber from Pittsburgh! I’m sure I would enjoy it more if we both had webcams and I could see who I was cyber-fucking!

  2. scribe called steff

    h.o.g. — yeah, it’s the webcam stuff that’s fuelling all the addictions, for obvious reasons. i’ve never bothered buying a webcam, and part of the reason is i got a little too into chatrooms the year after my mother died. it’s easy, those chatrooms. hence, i never spend much time on the computer these days. i do my writing, photography, and that’s all it’s about.

    e.t.b. — hah, thanks, i’ll pass. i’m sure you’ll get a taker or two.

  3. dirtyboy

    I’ve indulged in plenty of cybersex myself, and always enjoyed it, either with or without cams, though when I was indulging the most I tended to spend my time with girls I knew well – cybering with strangers never really appealed to me. It can definitely become addictive, but then so is basic masturbation, and I do enjoy masturbating with a friend lol – like all addicitive past-times, this one is definitely best kept in check, and it’s absolutley no replacement for the real thing.

  4. scribe called steff

    Yeah, if it’s a stranger, I have no interest. If I know the person, then I love it, sure. It can get pretty hot in that instance. It’s forced dialogue where you can’t touch each other, all designed to make the want greater. THAT can be an awesome tool in a relationship.

    Strangers, I can take’em or leave’em. Intimacy’s a big turn-on for me, so is familiarity. If I’ve been with them, and it’s all games online, I can imagine their smell, their taste, and that gets me more bothered. The “GET HERE NOW!” kind of bothered, but there’s usually complications with getting there now, so it results in a furious session of self-love, instead.

    Not an altogether bad thing, of course.

  5. Anonymous

    I’ve never indulged with a total stranger, but cybersex with my s.o. has been extremely hot. I’m very very tempted to buy a web cam set for my long-distance bf. Must get over silly body image issues. Also I am looking forward to the upcoming jacking post, heheh.

  6. mhorts

    Now you are creeping me out Steff. My favorite saying is “It is what it is”. And no, I’m trying to get you into a private chat room.

    Back to the topic at hand. Please forgive me if this is long. I got seriously into cybersex about 10 years ago. In the beginning, there were no private chat rooms on our system, so everything was done in public. At some point, after about three or four months, I realized two things:

    1) I was arranging my life, including my marriage, around my online activities. I would spend hours upon hours in chat rooms.

    2) I was wanting more. I started doing phone sex with some of these people. Then, the group I chatted with started having face-to-face meetings, which were really hook-up sessions. I confess that I joined in this a couple of times as well.

    I knew I had a problem, so I pretty much went cold turkey. I “pulled my head out of the box”, but I noticed that many of my cyber friends couldn’t quit, so we lost touch. Now I just think of my behavior at that time as just sad and I am glad I got out of it. As far as I know, some of these people are still at it. I have kept in touch with one of my friends from that time and she sees it the same way I do.

    I don’t remember ever having cybersex with people I didn’t know. I usually played with the same group of people. I never worried too much if the other people were who they said they were. I always had a mental image of what they looked like, and I doubt they looked like that anyway.

    One thing I did like about cybersex was that it was the first time in my life when I wasn’t the shy, fat, ugly person in the room. I was able to just be myself and really let my inhibitions down. I had a personality and people knew and liked me.

  7. scribe called steff

    morts —

    Yeah, I got a little hooked on chat rooms and shit like that after my mom died. It was just easier than real people. People get this look after things like that, where they look like they just feel so goddamned sorry for you. When you’re struggling to get your shit together, the last thing you need is to have people SHOWING you how incredibly sad-assed your life is, in their facial expressions.

    So, yeah, chat rooms made life simpler. Most people were either out to lunch or too… too. Chat rooms let me pretend I was socializing more than I was, and yeah, cybersex was a hoot.

    Eventually, maybe after a year or so, I plugged back into life. It’s part of why I don’t like surfing blogs and shit — too easy to get attached. I do remain semi-distant to people who contact me through this. It’s a little simpler.

    Speaking of unplugging, it’s actually sunny and I’m heading out in the world after sleeping till 10:30. LIFE ROCKS. Whee! I love the onslaught of spring. I think the anticipation of this time of year is just wild. Too damned fun.

  8. Steven

    There is only one thing better than stroking away the afternoon-
    fucking it away, instead.

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