I've been sort of bored with sex for the last couple of years. Also, an overexposure to porn and more artsy, stylish photography sort of numbed me down. The only thing that gets me going is the real thing, as in smells, touch and the actual bit of in'n'out burgering meant for procreation. But it's become something like the sip of whisky, the hour of puffing on a really good cigar or the sensation of controlling, say, 500 horses condensed into a fiery, throbbing engine glowing red hot ten inches behind where you press your head against the ostrich leather.
No, the thing that gives me the most amazing feelings and by far the most vivid dreams is this: Strip down naked and go cuddle with ferocious, big furry things with claws and fangs and an appetite for meat; not talking bronies or furries, but the actual, real animals. There's no sex and no sexing beyond the little dominance and pee games, but I think pretty much everything is worth it to be accepted into a pride or pack. There's snow outside, and while the human intellect and monkey brain really do cherish the roof, the fireplace, the electricity and the fast internet connection, the more feral, less brainy bit can't wait to drop the clothes and go cuddle with the wolves. You're never feeling cold when your coat is made up of living, breathing animals that respect you for what and who you are, even though you could just be considered dinner. Also, they like to have friends with hands and access to fresh food and magical things like rubber toys or ropes.
That is what gets my rocks and socks off, but it's well beyond and high above sex.
Doesn't work with horses or deer, though. Too jumpy. They'll break your bones just because someone sneezed a mile away, silly buggers that they are.