I'm a bad asexual. I fuck.
when explaining to muggles why I do this, I ask them to imagine mashed potatoes. I quite like mashed potatoes, but there are other carbohydrates that are less faff to prepare that I prefer. living alone, I'd never bother with mashed potatoes, but if someone I love is really into them? sure, they're tasty and I want you to be happy.
sex is like that. oh, you'll get enthusiastic consent if I love you the right way, and it's good fun, but I don't crave it the way you seem to.
I think maybe the food & sex thing goes further...
....I'm never going to make pinterest-worthy cupcakes. I admire themed party food, but if I made all that I'd want to hide before the guests arrived. an elegant 3 course dinner party isn't going to happen.
because I just don't have that sort of bandwidth. I'll bake, make the kitchen be in a state that is not The Flour-pocalypse Was Here and collapse on the sofa. then I'll try to convince you (or, more realistically, myself) that Wonky Cakes Taste Better and Icing Is Overrated Anyway because in that moment nothing is less appealing than making them look pretty.
I recently read a blogpost on squirting, and had the opportunity to try a tantric exercise. like the exquisitely presented cauldron cakes & home made butter beer, I like that these things exist, but probably shouldn't try to emulate them. they won't look like the pictures and I'll just end up sticky and disappointed. I just don't care enough about having The Most AMAZING orgasms or cooking enough to put in the work, panic, fail, calm down, reassure everyone else and try again. it's not worth it and that's OK.