I love my noises; I made them myself.

 I love my noises. I made them myself.

Some of it, is that I have learned enough to relax and let the noises out... but for the most part, I have deliberately chosen sounds that I found hot when other guys made them. That growl, I picked up from a guy my husband and I fucked together, almost a decade ago now. I made it my own, because my voice is not that guy's voice - but it's definitely the same primal grunty, roary growl. If you slow it down with a slo-mo video effect, so that the cum in your cumshot spurts out like a National Geographic clip of a lava eruption, it's a sound effect that you hear in a LOT of horror-monster movies... which I imagine are actually slowed-down feline roars. You hear it in Jurassic Park. 

But if I didn't deliberately make a point of reaching out to my fellow human beings with my voice during sex... I would usually be silent. I have to make an effort to connect. 

Sound is a choice for me, a deliberate decision.

And the more I read about it, the more recognition I see for sex sounds - calls, cries, grunts, moans - as tools in inter-animal communication that makes the sex work well. It makes things like ovulation and sperm competition work in all kinds of animals; incidentally, for those of us having sex just for FUN, it makes the sex HOT. It makes your timing work with your partner; it lets them know where you're at in your sexual arc, it tells them when they're doing something that particularly pleases you. And I have learned to make these noises, just like I've learned to put onto my face the appropriate emotional expressions that people want to see, to clue them in on what's going on in my head. Or what they THINK is going on in my head - what I have TOLD them is going on in my head, because I've put a face on my face that says whatever socially-appropriate thing I have told it to display. With a very few people - my husband, and a couple of real friends, I am able to actually let my face be fully my face; if I let my face go out in public without its protective normal-human-being camouflage in place, I would not get along well with people. People are baffling; they are often so vapid, or vain, or annoying, or just counter to fact, saying stupid things with their mouths, or things that do not line up with what their bodies and faces are saying, and I'm reading all this erroneous subtext with a badly out-of-date codebook, and it's all in a fucking foreign language, and it's hard, ALL THE FUCKING TIME. Autism gives me some real gifts, and my awareness of this whole thing is one of them. HAVING to be aware of it, is one of the things that sucks. 

When it's sex, for some reason, I feel much more primal and powerful. I'm still making choices - but the autistic choice between "that is not enough eye contact; people feel uncomfortable with you, they feel like you're not paying attention, or you're angry or sad," and "OMG, put it away, that's TOO MUCH eye contact, that's predatory gaze, you don't do that to people in polite society" when I overdo it... but if you use THAT face in a gay hookup situation, it's a power move. That face works. It signals sexual aggression, but also competence and security in my abilities; I'm going to fuck you, and I know what I'm doing, and this will be fun for both of us, here suck this. If a guy looks back, and connects with and replies to that eye contact, it's game on. I can do it walking along a crowded sidewalk. It works anywhere. For normal people, it's cruising, and I suppose it is for me, too... but for me, it's also a weapon I deploy for purpose, a tool, a superpower I attempt to use responsibly and for good and for pleasure. I have to be careful; I unintentionally whip it out occasionally when it should be safely holstered, at a social event or something, and there's always this awkward moment and a whiff of musk before things wobble back upright. 

And it's the same with noises. And words. I've learned a way to speak, a voice to use, a tone to grunt in, words to say - and they work. They communicate power, they signal strength and trustworthiness, and somehow they make people trust me and want me to do horrible but amazing things to them. And I know that it's communicating with my partner, and it's communicating with the people around me like a silverback gorilla beating his chest on a hillside, and it's also communicating with my own primal nature, and even though I'm autistic, all that shit is hardwired, way down before we were even mammals, and the more I do it, and the more it works, the more natural it becomes, and the more comfortable with it I am. If I look at it through a lens of modern autism theory and say, "Hey, this is masking; this isn't being your authentic self, this is pretend"... yeah, in a way, but it's a mask of what I really want, a superhero mask that allows me to step into a role that my scared inner self would be too insecure to do without the mask I've created to hide behind. And I've carefully created a role for myself that casts ME as the hero of a fantasy porn series where I have fun adventures fucking HOT guys in fascinating and intensely sensual ways... I can't be sad about this. I just can't.