When the Anthony Weiner scandal came down a while back, I participated in a conversation among some septuagenarian men about the whole thing. There were gay and straight participants in the conversation, and unanimity on one point: Weiner must be gay, because no straight man would ever send a picture of his chest or his cock to a woman, and no woman would ever want to receive such a shot.

“Um,” I said.  This was a little awkward, as the group wasn’t exactly a group of either intimates or peers. “I’ve done it,” I volunteered, somewhat timidly, “and I promise you, I’m straight.”

To a man, they looked at me like I was from Mars.  “You have?!?” several exclaimed at once.

“Yes,” I said.  “And you know, I suspect that most of my peers have,” I added.  “At least the ones with relatively open and comfortable sexual relationships.”

Clearly, there’s a difference between sexting (“I want to fuck you.”  “Touch yourself and think of my cock sliding into your mouth.”) and sending pictures.  And there’s a further difference between sending pictures of my chest, or shoulders, or biceps, or face, and sending pictures of my cock.  AND there’s a further difference between sending a picture of my cock straining against my jeans, or underwear, and sending a picture of MY COCK. And it’s funny – I have no stand-alone desire to send (or see, or take) pictures of my cock.  For myself, for anyone.  But when, in the context of a distant buddy or sexting relationship, a woman says, “Send me your cock.,” or some such? It makes me feel so hot to comply.  Or to tease.

And I’m pretty sure I’m straight. Winking smile