I guess because of the ways men and women have been hurt differently, a little genuine closeness can go a long way with men. I love just being around as a man realises I'm determined to be a mate as well as a girlfriend. I'm sure life would be a lot simpler if the enemies were so identifiable, but instead we have a world where everyone is confused about sex, and the enemies are rather concepts like guilt, secrecy and self-limitation. In a future world, maybe we won't all be so obsessed with sex. Given where we are right now, let's celebrate the sex we do have.
Men are good, and they are good fun to have sex with.
I delight in the differences between my body and a man's, such as sinews where I have smoothness, the graze of a bristly chin between my shoulder blades or a hand that can span both my nipples at once. There's a particular look most men get in their eyes when offered breasts to play with. I remember at a youth hostel in Denmark, debating with some American guys whether we should go and see the sex museum. I'll never forget the look of sheer envy on one guy's face. I suppose that, given the construction of the female body within patriarchy, there is a kind of warped power that comes with being the object of desire.