Having My Head in the Clouds as a Boy Made Me the Lover I Am Today

When I was growing up, my father called me a "televidiot". He was referring to the fact that TV was my primary refuge from reality. I'd spend hours watching it daily. (I enjoyed going to the movies even more, but I couldn't do that on my own. And I didn't enjoy books as much, because they didn't give me the audiovisual stimulation I got from TV and movies.) I also made up my own worlds. My parents were impressed with my imagination. But they were also concerned, because I was spending more time in those worlds than in the real world.

That started to change when I was 15. Up to that point, the real world hadn't shown me anything that could compete with the sense of magic I'd found in my escapist pursuits. But then I discovered a Japanese martial art called Aikido. I learned to move my body in ways I had no idea were possible. Ways that were visually appealing (it was literal poetry in motion) and, even more importantly, made me feel something I'd never felt before: a sense of connectedness. Connectedness not only to my own body, but to a deeper reality. And for the first time in my life, I felt a sense of magic in real life. That changed everything.

The (Eventual) Impact on My Love Life

Fast-forward to university. It was in a psychology class there that I first learned that most women cannot orgasm from penile penetration alone. That was an earthshattering revelation for me (as I've written about here), but I took it to heart.

The timing of that revelation was fortuitous. First, I was still a virgin, so I had a "clean slate", as it were. I recognized that I had an opportunity to be a good sexual partner for women straight out of the gate, and I seized it. Second, I was already on a quest to cultivate a healthy relationship with my libido. As I've written in my most recent piece (linked below), I found the concept of the Force (from Star Wars) immensely helpful on my quest:

I grew up in the days when the messaging around consent was "No means no". It's a valid message, and I took it to heart. But I felt it didn't go far enough. The messaging has evolved since then, but I still feel it doesn't go far enough.

It's as if boys are naturally strong with the Force, but we as a society don't see any value in training them in the ways of the Jedi. We pay lip service to the importance of consent, but we don't actually teach boys and men how to wield that awesome power of theirs in ways that not only won't harm girls and women, but will actually be mutually rewarding. And then we wonder why so many men end up either detached from their power (afraid to even talk to a woman) or wielding it like a Sith (thus becoming the next generation of men who make the consent conversation necessary in the first place).

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Third, my experiences with Aikido had opened my eyes to how feeling connected to your own body can be a powerful resource for feeling magic in the world — a resource that can be tapped into over and over again. So it occurred to me that when a woman shares her body with me, if I help her feel connected to it, I can help her too feel a sense of magic in the world. And to be clear, what I mean by helping her feel connected to her body isn't just about her sexual pleasure; it's also about communicating a sincere message to her in a very direct, powerful way:

You never deserved to be treated like a piece of meat. You never deserved to feel unsafe. You never deserved to be fetishized. You never deserved to be shamed for your body or your existence as a sexual being. None of that should've ever happened to you (or any other woman, for that matter).

(FYI, these are my own words, excerpted from a previous piece of mine.)

The convergence of those three factors led to a wondrous discovery: even as a virgin, the idea of selflessly helping a woman enjoy the sexual pleasure that's her birthright opened the door to an even greater sense of magic in real life than what I'd already unlocked. (And that was just the idea of it, which ended up paling in comparison to the actual experience!)

Looking back, I've had one girlfriend in particular who I suspect is one of the 20% or so of women who can climax from penetration alone. But here's the thing: it never even occurred to me to test that hypothesis. As a man who wants women's sexual experiences to be magical, it felt only natural and right for me to befriend her clit. And we became good friends indeed, her clit and me. Moreover, I enjoyed my friendship with her clit. I wasn't looking for an excuse to skip over it on the way to the "good stuff". It was the good stuff — every bit as much as having my cock inside her pussy. (This is how I've been with my other partners as well.)

For me, having my lips and tongue on (and sometimes in) a woman's pussy is beyond intoxicating. It feels like I'm communing with a goddess and getting drunk from being immersed in her feminine beauty, mystery, and power. And when I caress her as I'm going down on her, I feel like she and I are the protagonists of some kind of romantasy that's sexually explicit in the best possible way.

Only slightly less powerful is having my lips and tongue on her breasts. They deserve love too. They deserve time to be savored for their own sake. And again, caressing her as I do it takes it to a whole other level. Whether it's her breasts or her pussy, there's something very primal and magical — in a way I would describe as "romantic" — about honoring and showing reverence to her womanhood with my mouth.

All that being said, I'm also a huge fan of fingering. It's something I can do while we engage in passionate kissing, and it's also more conducive to sustained eye contact (there's something about communing eye-to-eye while also communing fingers-to-pussy). So fingering is magical in its own right.

This is about more than just sex

When I worked out what I want to be like when a woman shares her body with me, I realized that I liked that man. A lot. I could feel that he was seductive in the most benevolent way, as expressed in these words (this is for you, Sabrina Jacklin!):

I'm not intimidated by women's beauty or feminine allure, because no matter how gorgeous a woman is — no matter how stunning or breathtaking I find her — I know that if she were to get naked with me, I would make it a beautiful experience for her.

Well, I liked that man so much that I wanted to be him full-time (not just when a woman is sharing her body with me). He's a man who makes women feel safe and able to relax around him. He insists on relating to them first and foremost as fellow human souls (not mere objects of romantic or sexual interest). He's a refuge from body shaming and slut shaming. Moreover, he's warm — not just to make women feel safe, but to give them a taste of the wondrous sense of magic he's found in life.

And none of this is contingent upon her being available to him sexually (or even romantically). He sees sex as a beautiful, fragrant flower that blooms naturally in the right kind of soil. But he doesn't obsess over the flower; he focuses on the soil. He understands that making the soil fertile ground in which the flower can bloom of its own accord is its own reward.

With Love,

© Ben Rosenthal 2026

PS: I no longer qualify as a "televidiot". I have access to streaming services, yet I go for long periods without watching anything. I've just found too many other things in real life that I find fulfilling!