Best Sex Writing 2013: The State of Today's Sexual Culture (12 page)

Holy Fuck: The Fourth-and-Long Virgin

J on Pr essic k

It all started at one press conference. Amongst a throng of jour- nalists, one voice rang out. One voice asked a seemingly out of place question. One voice asked Tim Tebow if he was a virgin. And when he said, “Yes,” a monster was let loose. Or rather, a monster remains confined.

The mythic status of Tebow’s lack of sex is as legendary as his football career. Yes, he’s a virgin. Yes, he has strong religious convictions and he wants to wait for the “right woman.” Really, there isn’t that much to the story. Same as his actual career. Yes, he’s a football player. Yes, he’s waiting for the perfect marriage of potential and skill. But Tim Tebow is a professional athlete and that just isn’t the way pro ball players are supposed to act. They’re supposed to be pro ballers! In recent times we have Shawn Kemp, basketball player and father to seven children with six different women. We have Tiger Woods with his cross-country exploits

and affinity for diner waitresses. They got to where they are (the beds, hotels, backseats of the nation) because they are allowed— and encouraged—to. Their stature as athletes affords them this sexual stature.

But of course, all athletes looking to score must admire the legendary dedication to his craft that Wilt “The Stilt” Chamber- lain demonstrated over the course of his illustrious career. And the man had time to play basketball too! The estimate is that Cham- berlain had over twenty thousand sexual partners in his lifetime. When he gets to it, Tebow is going to have a lot of catching up to do. But the thing is, he doesn’t want to go for that gold. He wants one woman. He wants to be in love. He wants a life partner. And for this he is reviled and mocked in mainstream media.

The accepted norm for athletes—male athletes—is that they are to be unstoppable on the field of play
and
in playing the field. They are to be virile, masculine and ready to fuck anything that moves. Athletes are adored and respected for their bodies, and how they use them. Their inflated strength, endurance and testos- terone are supposed to carry over from their sporting activity to the rest of their lives. They conquer. They vanquish. The ancient Greeks would sculpt rock into beautiful art to reflect the admira- tion of athletic bodies. Now young children hang posters on their walls of their favorite players.

But this is not all projection from the outside in. Athletes do not just become sexual gods because we tell them to. In his essay “The Myth of the Sexual Athlete,” Dr. Don Sabo argues much of the bravado and confidence needed to become high scorers is learned by young athletes in dressing rooms with their peers.
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As boys learn to compete against other boys in sporting arenas, they also learn to compete in sexual matters. Locker room talk is the norm and sharing details of getting-in-her-pants escapades

is expected. So, according to Sabo, this can lead to men growing up detached from the idea of sexual and emotional commitment. Without that feeling, it becomes far easier to see why so many athletes live by the Five Finger Rule (any port in a storm). It would seem that Tim Tebow must have been too busy listening to hymns or sermons or Christian rock on his iPod to catch this part of team bonding.

Much has been said of Tebow’s strong religious beliefs and usually it is Tebow himself doing the talking. Here’s where the issue with mainstream culture comes into play. If Tebow were just a football player leading a quiet, pious life, not getting any and happy that way, no one would care. But when you paint Bible verses on your face and talk about your faith all the bloody time, people perk up and take notice. Sure, he’s trying to continue his family’s life of missionary work, but his talking about his lonely jockstrap rubs people the wrong way.

Funny thing is, Tebow is no trailblazer. Heard of A.C. Green? He is predominantly remembered as a supporting member of those dominant Los Angeles Lakers teams of the 1980s. He got around and played for a few other teams before winding down his career and retiring in 2001. He won three championships and holds the record for most consecutive games played. He was also a vocal virgin throughout his entire career.

In a 1998 essay in
Ebony
2
,
the deeply religious Green revealed that teammates tried to tempt him, but he always refused. Instead he tried to convince them of the dangers of their ways. He also railed against the promiscuous culture in the NBA:

I tell my colleagues and teammates all the time that they are playing with fire. They don’t realize how stupid it is because to them it’s fun, it’s daring, it is like

living on the edge. And when you live on the edge, you want to be near the fire. But like mama said, when you play with fire, you might get burned. These guys have so much to lose. It’s crazy to me to put yourself in that position. There might be a few virgins in the NBA. But overall, the guys are sort of reckless and their behavior reflects the attitude, “Hey, I can do any- thing and everything and not worry about responsi- bility and accountability.” That’s their attitude.

Sometimes in the locker room, I’m like a voice of reason. I don’t want to hear about what happened last night, and the guys have enough respect for me and know what I stand for that they don’t even bring that stuff to me. But more than anything I try to get them to understand that you’ve got to think about what you’re doing—instead of just thinking that every lady out there is a road trip. That’s the type of mentality sometimes—“ just because I go from city to city and play this game, I can play women too.” Sometimes they think women are just like that—a game or a piece of meat.
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Green got married in 2002, after his playing days ended.

Will the same good fortune happen for Tim Tebow? If it takes his entire career, will he be able to hold out for Mrs. Right in- stead of Ms. Right Now?

That is the big question now that he’s off to play in New York City. If he actually were inconspicuous, then maybe he’d be able to get by better. But he’s the missionary who never stops prosely- tizing. And he’s heading to the city that never sleeps, where the

denizens want to know who celebrities are sleeping with.

Not that we haven’t been wondering who makes Tebow’s jock itch already. He is a very pretty man. He’s got the body; he’s got the looks. Combine those factors with a fervent Christian belief and he must be gay, right? Okay, so those ideas don’t really seem to go together, but more and more rumors are flying that Tim Tebow is actually a deeply closeted, self-loathing queer. Seems a stretch, but the pervasive idea is that other deeply religious Chris- tian zealots (Ted Haggard, John Paulk) were actually canoodling with cock while maintaining firm antigay stances. Flamer flames were certainly fueled by the Tim and Tom Brady Manhunt Mo- bile parody ad. And despite his strong Christian convictions (in- cluding appearing in an antiabortion ad run during the Super Bowl), Tebow has not come out with any definitive statements about the LGBT community.

So, could he be? There is strong sentiment that if Tebow ever does do a backfield rush out of the closet, he could be a tremen- dous bridge-building figure. Maybe he could get the Christians and the gays together. Maybe he could be
the
common ground. He would certainly be one of the most high-profile Christians to embrace his queer identity. Hell, he’d probably do better with them than he would the rest of his NFL fraternity.

When it comes to tackling Tim Tebow though, no one is more interested in getting Tim’s pants down than Noel Bi- derman, but the CEO of AshleyMadison.com, the world’s pre- mier dating site for people who want to cheat on their partners, isn’t interested in Tebow in a gay way. No, he’s taken things to a whole new level by putting a bounty on Tebow’s virginity. With an offer of one million dollars on the table, Biderman is looking for anyone who can provide proof that Tebow is not a virgin after all. Or anymore. A statement from the website affirms the

notion that sports and sex are synonymous: “Sports and sex (and of course, infidelity) go hand in hand. If Mr. Tebow is indeed abstaining from adult relationships, I would encourage him to find a nice lady or two and enjoy his youth and fame as much as possible.”
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Just imagine what would happen if he were to claim that check.

So it looks like everyone else is looking to get Tim Tebow laid…except Tim Tebow. Why doesn’t he fit into our neat little box for athletes? Why don’t we let him live his life in virginal peace? When did remaining a virgin become unnatural? Should Tim listen to Noel Biderman and the queer community, hunker down and lay some pipe—whichever line is available?

No. He should keep on doing what he’s doing. So much work, so much activism, so many lives have gone into creating sex-pos- itive culture that we cannot undo all of that by being hypocrites. And telling Tim Tebow he shouldn’t be a virgin, he shouldn’t wait until marriage, and he shouldn’t have religious beliefs creates a sex-negative situation for him. Nobody is telling him to fuck because he wants to and it feels nice. No, Tim Tebow is being told to fuck because he’s
supposed
to want that. In doing so, we’re giving everyone the right to tell other people “You shouldn’t be a slut,” “You shouldn’t have sex before marriage,” “You should wait for the right person.” Granted, it would be great if Tebow would keep his mouth as still as his penis is. However, he needs to be respected as a sexual man who has beliefs. And when that lucky person comes along for Tim Tebow, here’s hoping she or he has a strong defense, because he’s going to be coming with a Hail Mary.

Notes

1. D. Sabo. (1999). “The Myth of the Sexual Athlete.” Reprinted in Estelle Disch, editor, Reconstructing Gender: A Multicultural Anthology (London: Mayfield Publishing Company, 2002).
   

2. A.C. Green “Male virgin NBA star A.C. Green tells ‘Why I have refused sex’”. Ebony. FindArticles.com. 03 May, 2012.
   

3. Ibid.
   

4. Ashley Madison, (2012). Untitled [Press release]. Retrieved from http://new
   s. ashleymadison.com/2012/04/24/news/sports/ashley-madison-puts-1-million- bounty-on-tim-tebows-virginity.
   

Baby Talk

Rac hel Kr amer Bussel

“I want to be a good boy for my mommy,” said the man. He was in his forties, and he was naked in bed with me. I guess this wasn’t your typical second date.

It wasn’t the first time the
M
word had been mentioned in our dirty talk, either. But when it came up on the phone, I could just laugh it off or pretend I hadn’t heard him. Not this time. Now, it was real. He wanted me to pretend to be his mommy— his naughty, flirtatious, sexy mommy. Even for a professional sex writer like me, with nineteen years of adventures behind her, “age play” was out there.

A subset of the catchall term BDSM, age play is defined by the Center for Sexual Pleasure and Health as “sexual role-playing where one partner pretends to be older and in control while the other pretends to be much younger.” This could mean fantasizing about being siblings, or teacher and student. According to
The

Toybag Guide to Age Play
by Lee Harrington, the most popular form is parent-child. People like it for all sorts of reasons: the taboo factor; to be silly, to give up control, to explore an inner identity, to enjoy “never having to grow up.” I’d heard of it, but it definitely didn’t sound like my thing.

It’s not that I don’t love dirty words and role-play. I can get off on being called a “bad girl,” “slut” and “whore” (consensually) by a dominant partner. I’ve spanked and been spanked by men and women. But this was new to me. Pretending to be someone’s mommy? I was on the steep end of that sexual learning curve. How could I do this without sounding idiotic, even if only to my- self? It was like entering an entirely new world, a sci-fi universe being made up on the spot.

Still, there is a critical moment in bed when a partner shares his deepest fantasy, and you can either tell him you’re not into it—or you can go with it. I chose the latter.

Why did I say yes? I was flattered that he felt comfortable enough to share that side of his psyche with me. I don’t know how often he goes there with lovers, but it’s obviously riskier than admitting you’re into light bondage. I also liked the idea of having the power to control exactly what would happen between us; I could tell him he was, indeed, being a good boy for me, or that he wasn’t, and would need correcting. The roles set clear boundaries: I was in charge, and even though I’m more inclined to be on the receiving end of orders given in bed, I can get off on being in command, perhaps because I know what being on the other side is like.

He’d already told me that his mom had passed away when he was a child, and you don’t have to be Freud to figure that one out. My heart went out to him for losing his mom so early in life. I was also relieved that whatever happened between him and me,

I’d never have to meet the woman I was “playing.” I couldn’t help but feel a tug at my heartstrings for this big “baby.”

By submitting to me in this way, he was the opposite of the macho, selfish guys I’d dated who wanted everything their way or never dared show me their most private selves. One of the things I enjoy most about sex is the sense of connection where nothing is held back. If agreeing to be his “mommy” would get me to that place, I was game. I had long been a champion of people baring their deepest fantasies. You can’t do that in a half-assed way.

Still, I was pretty sure I wouldn’t like it. How wrong I was. As he lay on top of me, he sucked on my nipples in a manner no lover ever has. He wasn’t sucking on them to give me pleasure; his tongue never brushed against my nipple to find out if it was hard. He sucked in a fast, loud way, like a baby would to get milk, cheeks moving with exaggerated motions in and out. He wanted attention as much as TLC. It was fascinating, because it felt entirely different than the usual sensual act. Here was a man over six feet tall who probably weighed close to two hun- dred pounds, yet he seemed to have shrunk as he curled himself up against me (I’m around five-foot-three and one hundred and fifty pounds). He felt smaller as he “nursed.” He was showing me his vulnerability, transforming into someone else, which made me want to offer up a different side of myself in return. And that was hot.