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Sometimes marijuana can depersonalize a sexual experience. Thismay be what the user wants: for a physical therapist from New Jersey, "There's a special kick in watching yourself, mentally, making love to somebody else." She adds that while grass makes her more interested in sex, it can also make her not want to be touched at all, a paradox mentioned by several other users.Other smokers find this depersonalizing effect not at all to their liking. A Michigan man who has been smoking for several years says he is now having second thoughts: I'm no longer sure that sex is enhanced by marijuana. Fucking maybe, but lovemaking is done away with. Stoned tingles are especially intense tingles, and certainly pleasurable, but they just float off into the void while I try to remember who it is I'm tingling with. And where's the drama in that? I have always found sex to extract a psychic commitment, a sense of possibilities and dangers. But with marijuana, it's often roughly equivalent to masturbating with a copy of Penthouse.
Kissing isn't that good with a buzz on, because my mouth is too aware. I also don't like it because my mind is always working so I can't concentrate on enjoying it. Did you ever kiss and wonder about life's mysteries at the same time? They just don't go together. When I'm stoned, all I do is think, think, think.
Sex
provides a peculiar tension that makes being stoned a hundred times better than
it is. Notice I said that sex makes dope better, rather than the other way
around. Being high does change the complexion of the sex act, though: it can be
anything from a five-minute quickie to a long bacchanalian dance, and pot
creates a different kind of desire than anything else I know.
While I like to have sex after smoking dope, I sometimes wonder about my boyfriend. I know I'm high on him, but I'm not always sure whether he is enjoying me or the drug. Do you know that scene in Annie Hall where Woody Allen complains to Diane Keaton that she won't have sex without smoking a joint? He gets his way, but then we see an image of her body walking over to a chair to wait for the sex to end. I can't get that scene out of my mind.
What
disturbs me is that dope threatens to offer a physical pleasure greater than
sex. When people masturbate, they usually fantasize another person, so the need
for that other person—for love—is still present in the fantasy. But with dope,
the fantasy—for me, at least—is usually colors, sounds of music, and various
nonpersonal sensations. I feel it displaces the marvelous mammal connection
between sex, love, and happiness.
There's nothing more exciting than sex while you're high, assuming you've got a well-developed imagination and a partner to love. When I'm stoned, I just have to look at my wife. Her body becomes irresistible, and mine becomes electric. I undress her slowly, and love her body as though there were nothing else important in my life. My penis is oversensitized, and sometimes is so huge that it hurts. Actual intercourse is such a trip! She always feels hotter and tighter than usual. Frankly, I don't have the words to describe the experience. I only hope I grow old and gray before I lose my desire to love her this way.
What
really moves me are the emotional effects of pot on our sex life. It
makes me realize whom I'm with, that I have the privilege of being married to
and making love to the woman I love most in the world, who makes my life happy
and gives it meaning.
It was a transcendent experience. We knew exactly what we were doing, and were utterly blown away. It wasn't something we had decided to do in advance; all of a sudden, it just happened. That evening, we were both over at Danny's, and Sarah told Danny she was pregnant. We were both sure; there was just no question about it.
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