It’s Saturday night and I’m sitting here by myself* and just when I think my social life can sink no lower IRL, fate once again tweaks my nose as if to prove a point.
I’ve just sat and watched the mating rituals of octopii.
More pertinant to my need to share it with you all is that I actually found myself watching fascinated. Now I know at first you’d think we as humans have nothing in common with the octopus sex drive (though I have female friends who swear they’ve met guys who seem to have eight hands) but truth is indeed stranger than fiction.
I ended up enthralled by the habits which seemed to mirror our own bizarre sexual checklist.
I chuckled as the male octopus sensed the female in her lair and “came a callin’.” He did this by standing at a distance that could be termed polite. She, in the best of female form, pretended to be oblivious to him (despite being down ‘wind’) and cleaned her area in a good domesticated imitation.
I watched expectantly as the male did the posture thing, whirling his tentacles like mini helicopters and possibly releasing pheremones. And in the finest of mating traditions… she continued to play hard to get. In fact it was quite some time before she finally signified she had noted his presence let alone his interest (she did this by stretching out to - standing tall so to speak, as if showing off her body).
Just as our little romeo was about to move in however, the tides bought in a casual passerby who also took an interest in our sultry seabound seductress. Yes, enter the Other octoGuy (henceforth known as the Groper Interloper - GI for short).
Our hero of course responded as all males would. He confronted this interloper in an attempt to establish his territory. With the prospect of tentacle hentai on hand however, GI wasn’t ready to abandon this particular port just yet.
The two males faced off and postured in front of each other, drawing themselves up to their full ‘heights’ trying to intimidate the other, and when that didn’t work resorted to the time-honoured flexing of tentacles, competing to see who had the largest suckers (I really am NOT making this up). Yes it seems even male octopii think size matters.
All the while the little hussy of an octopussy just watched on - no doubt doing the multi-limbed version of batting her eyelids and giggling “oh y’all are fightin’ over lil ol’ me?”
Finally our Bassanova wins out, banishing GI who flees with his tail between all of his legs.
I quivered as the triumphant hero returned to claim his spoils. It WAS interesting to see the hesitant nature of his approach though. Do octopii also have insecurities and fear of rejection? It certainly seemed so as he tentatively edged forward, extended, hesitated and repeated the process.
Finally he was within reach and he very slowly extended his very long hectagolis (?) through which he would insert the sperm. She - no doubt tired after all this sitting around passively flirting - consented by the merest twitch as she opened the appropriite passage. Still tentative, he slowly slid into her (to my cheers of ‘yeah baby’) and they sat there, with his sperm pumping into her. I watched spellbound as the waterlogged porn soundtrack washed over them.
This is when I learnt - via the quite excited voyeuristic announcer - not only are these octopii very promiscuous but that they can do the actual penetration thing for hours.
Sadly however our boy must not have had the right stuff or couldn’t find the right button (another case for similarities perhaps). Or perhaps she developed a headache. Whatever the reason, after only a few minutes she suddenly just ups and starts moving off. Worse still for the slimy suitor is the fact that’s he’s still attached and is dragged along unceremoniously in her wake.
I sighed as - after a struggle to regain balance - he finally detached himself and left very quickly: no doubt struggling to come to terms with the rejection. He will probably retire to a sand bar where he will attempt to ruin the reputation of the gal octopuss by calling her easy.
I could offer some insightful comments on our own rituals or make some further observations on whether insecurities exist in nature. I could continue making bad jokes and attempting to anthromorphise these suckers however all I’m going to say is: Yes, I may not have a life… but at least I’m not being pulled along the ocean floor by my penis.
- long but strangely happy story (and unrelated)
