why i love unprotected sex (and what it really says about trust) | musing no. 13

dominance is earned. not acted out.

Let’s just start with the obvious: unprotected sex is incredible. Condoms suck.

They smell. They break. They ruin the moment. There’s nothing that kills the heat of the moment faster than having to pause everything to unwrap a piece of latex, figure out which way it rolls, and try to get it on without killing the mood. It’s awkward, clinical, and disruptive.

But real intimacy—the kind where two people fully trust one another—doesn’t need a pause button. There’s something deeply powerful about that kind of connection. About being so in sync that nothing comes between you. Literally (men—keep them nearby. Hand her one after. It’s not just clean. It’s respectful.)

I’m a man who loves that moment—the one where you’re building toward orgasm and something primal takes over. When her body feels so good, and that final thrust as you release everything inside her is raw, carnal, and deeply connective. And I think for a woman, knowing she can bring that level of pleasure to a man must be incredibly powerful.

But this isn’t casual for me.

This isn’t some shallow kink or reckless habit. This is my thing. And because it matters that much, I’m very up front about it. I understand that for some women, this could be a dealbreaker. But for others—surprisingly many—it’s just as important as it is to me. I value that honesty.

And to be clear, I had a vasectomy six years ago for my birthday. Best decision I’ve ever made. I’ll go into the full story on the podcast—including the billionaire mentor whose advice led me there—but here’s the short version: when you’re done having kids, get snipped and reclaim full sexual freedom.

I’ve had the post-vasectomy semen analysis. I get tested after every new partner. I share those results with anyone I’m serious with, and I expect the same. If either of us is with anyone else, we talk about it. That’s what trust looks like.

Because this isn’t just about sex. It’s fluid bonding—a phrase I prefer over “unprotected sex” because it captures the depth of what’s really happening. It’s an exchange of trust. Vulnerability. Intimacy.

It’s her opening up—literally and emotionally—and letting you in. And when a woman reaches that point and tells me she’s ready to stop using condoms, it means something. I’ve had that happen in relationships where we started out using protection, and crossed that imaginary threshold together. Both times, it was with Eastern European women. And both times, it was deeply emotional.

Now, on the flip side…

Let’s talk about anal sex.

here’s the truth: it sucks and anal sex is rarely about pleasure. it’s a performance. a power play.

It’s messy. It’s complicated. It requires a lot of prep. And it’s just not what that hole was designed for. Most guys chase it because it’s a power move. It’s about dominance, not connection. And to be honest? That’s never really done it for me.

Yes, I enjoy anal play. There are definitely dynamics I enjoy exploring. But as far as pure sex goes, it’s not even close. A beautiful, wet pussy wins every time.

So fellas—put your ego aside. Let go of the power trip. And be honest about what actually feels good and intimate. You might find your whole perspective shifts.

—

new musings drop every tuesday and thursday.

subscribe if you’re ready for the ones no one else is writing.

— author