We sit in our respective easy chairs – “Remember when we first got these things?” I ask, “And as soon as we got them home, we sat in them and ended up falling asleep for the entire afternoon?” – a bowl of popcorn between us, separate soft blankets over our respective knees, and tune in to the bedroom-hopping-turned-murderous opening scene of A Shot In The Dark.
As comedies go, it is both classic and outdated; an untimely (and un-sexy) sex comedy that dates itself in funny – and “Was that EVER funny?” – ways.
For those unfamiliar with the movie: Maria Gambrelli, maid in the household of the wealthy Ballon family, is found in her bedroom holding a smoking gun over a dead body. She doesn’t know how it happened. She swears she did not shoot anyone, especially not her lover (see: aforementioned dead body), and even though the police commissioner is certain she’s guilty, Inspector Clouseau believes Maria Gambrelli to be innocent — “…of any crime…” he hastens to add; the idea that Maria Gambrelli would be ‘innocent’ by other standards is clearly meant to be laughable. She has at least two lovers in the household, after all. (One she claims she didn’t kill, and another Clouseau is convinced she’s protecting.)
At one point, Ms Not-Innocent – drunk after a night on the town with Clouseau and alcoholically amorous – is being carried up the stairs of the inspector’s apartment, eyes half-closed and arms flopped wide, when she declares (clearly with the intent of non-protestation), “I’ve given up sex!”
The thing about old-school comedies is that they anticipate their audience. There is a pause – not in action (Peter Sellers continues to stumble up the stairs holding a dead-weight Elke Sommer) but in sound. The director has left a space of quiet in which the audience is expected to react.
And I can imagine that pause – that 1964 not-yet-revolutionized-sexual-era pause – in theaters of the time being filled with the reaction of tittering laughter and ‘ahem’-ing of throats and an occasional guffaw of disbelief.
In my own home viewing room, the pause is filled with a shared look between my spouse and I. A raised eyebrow. A grin.
“I’ve given up sex,” I say to him.
He laughs.
Because the concept is, on some level, as ridiculous in life as it is in the movies.
Obviously-enamored, clearly oversexed, naturist (there’s a whole nudist colony scene in the movie that actually *is* funny in parts) females just do NOT suddenly – after only two days of no sexual activity and obviously only two minutes from renewing sexual activity (with a new partner, to boot!) – declare themselves celibate with any level of seriousness any more than amourously-intentioned, hypersexed, nudist sex bloggers do.
.
.
.
Or do they?
Later that night, snuggled together under my duvet, he asks me how I’m feeling. I know what he’s talking about, though I really have nothing to report on the matter (well, not quite nothing, but… nothing substantial) and I’m not in a mental/emotional space to go into details. Knowing, though, that sexual relations – with myself, with him, with others – are not OVER by means, even if there are days it feels that way, I channel the kittenish character we’ve so recently laughed over and reply with a wink (and as much breathy sexy-ness as I can muster)…
“I’ve given up sex.”
(I haven’t. Not even temporarily. But I have every right to if I so choose.)
Perhaps it’s an odd logic, but:
Knowing that my right to make that choice would be respected is comforting… while at the same time the choice itself feels like a safety net that I’d have to be willing to dive head-first off a steep jagged cliff to fall into. The net is there to catch me once I land, but there’s a low chance I’d land in one piece.
Temporary abstinence? Since in my current situation it’s circumstantial rather than enforced: Yes, you could say I’ve engaged in that. Recently. More with reticence than fervor.
But celibacy? Giving up sex?
No. That one’s a sure-to-kill shot in the dark for me.
What are your thoughts on abstinence/celibacy?
Have you ever intentionally (or unintentionally) given up sex?
I have given up orgasms—unless desired by my Queen as you know, but I could never give up sex!! Even without orgasm it’s too much fun.
Just sayin’
Collaredmichael recently posted…The Fountain of Youth—hmm, or Soda Anyone?
The irony of chastity – as a kink – is that it celebrates sexual arousal, which is the very thing supposedly-‘chaste’ people are supposed to avoid.
And I think sex-without-orgasm can be both horrible and wonderful and everything in-between, depending entirely on context. There are, after all, millions of women across the globe who have never had an orgasm (due to the unskilledness or uncaringness of their lovers or the dogma of their religion/culture), which is… Well, it’s pretty crappy, right?
But on the other hand, there are thousands of men who *want* to go without orgasm (though not without attention) as a part of intentional chastity play.
[…hmmm…]
I agree – choosing celibacy is one thing ( i am not sure I would) – I kind of felt someone else chose it for me and that was a difficult time in my life.
I’m not sure I would choose celibacy either, but I know from past experience that the less I have sex, the less I *want* sex. So, combined with age/health, etc…
I just don’t know what the future holds.
I have been ‘celibate’ for periods of my life, just because that’s the road life took me on… no partner, stress, depression… but I have never decided to abstain from sex. The day I do that, hell will probably freeze over. If I can, I want sex, but I can also easily go without for longer periods.
And… I love the fun between the two of you 🙂
Rebel xox
Marie Rebelle recently posted…Less Sex, Less Drive
Like you, if I can, I generally want. But on the other hand, I’ve gone for long periods of time without, and less frequency can lead to less desire.
I’m gonna give up on it, one of these days, about 24 minutes after I’ve been hit by the biggest hockin train in the yard. 😀
Heh. At that point I doubt you’ll have any kind of grip on reality. (Though you’d likely have a very sticky grip on the tracks!) 😉
I’ve given it up, both voluntarily and involuntarily, several times over the course of my life… and generally, it didn’t particularly bother me one way or the other. Which isn’t to say there weren’t times when I wanted to gnaw off my own arm from frustration… but overall, I’m pretty neutral about it. It’s happened enough that even tho’, as you say, if you don’t use it, you can lose it, I also know that when the time is right, it comes running home. (And generally knocks me on my butt with its enthusiastic greeting.)
Just a thang, I guess. 🙂
I like the idea of being so enthusiastically greeted by one’s own prodigal libido. 🙂
Since I started to have a good and fulfilling sex life I have had no desire to voluntarily give it up. Celibacy is definitely not for me.
I don’t think it’s for me, either, though my current… I dunno, dry spell(?)… is not particularly bothersome, which makes me wonder a bit about what the future holds. I think it would worry me more if it was happening outside the context of a strong relationship, but like you I have a good and fulfilling sex life with my partner (even if it’s slower-paced these days), and I think that makes all the difference.