Giving up sex

So here’s The Deal.

I’m giving up sex for 3 months.

That means three months of no sex, not even a teeny little bit.

Not even the kind that doesn’t “count.”

This means I have to be celibate until January 7, 2018.

Now, there is one exception to this rule:

The Swede.

IF The Swede comes to visit, then my vow of abstinence goes on hiatus.

I rationalize it like this – The Swede happens to be the one HEALTHY friendship I have and therefore shouldn’t be included in my vow of abstinence, which is supposed to weed out the dirty boys and rebels.

I told Tejas about my vow and he just laughed and laughed.

Then he thought about how much bitching he will have to listen to and he STOPPED LAUGHING.

Personally, I think the biggest challenge for me isn’t going to be giving up sex.

No.

It’s going to be giving up the sexting and flirting that goes with it.

Because for me, flirting leads to sexting leads to sex IRL.

So we’re gonna have none of that.

Do you think I will survive?

I’m my own f*cking problem

All this time I’ve been thinking that I can’t find a good man because a good man hasn’t crossed my path yet.

But that’s a lie.

I think I’ve come across a few.

You see, I take an odd approach to meeting men.

I bombard them with my sexuality and dare them to see ANYTHING AT ALL beyond it.

Of course, the good ones run away, and the bad boys stay.

So I have a bouquet of rebels and dirty boys to choose from.

They’re the ones who value sex as much as I do.

And I’m not in love with a single one of them.

And none of them are in love with me.

Maybe, and this is a BIG MAYBE, I need to relinquish my vice grip on sex being the most valuable part of a relationship and consider that there are other things infinitely more valuable.

Conversation, for one.

Thoughtfulness, for another.

A great sense of humor.

God, I can’t believe I’m going to say this but maybe I’ve been valuing the wrong things all along.

Maybe, if I want to find someone, I need to just stop with the sexting, and the nude pics, and the dinner dates at his place and just SLOW THE FUCK DOWN!

I think I’ve forgotten that I’m a woman, not just a vagina begging for earth-shattering orgasms.

Is this what my friends* have been trying to tell me all along?

If I really want to wind up with a decent man, then I need to embrace the woman I am, not the sex that I want.

Am I my own fucking problem?

 

*Barbara, Lisa, Rob, Michelle. . .

Lousy F*ck

This post is for all the guys out there.

There’s something you need to hear and I’m gonna be the one to say it:

Aftercare.

It’s a thing.

And it’s an important thing.

You don’t just slip your clothes back on and beat a hasty retreat out of the bedroom.

No.

Part of the commitment to sex involves a minimal commitment to AFTERCARE.

Meaning you and your partner make pillow talk for at least 10 or 15 minutes post coitus.

When you leap up and wash, get dressed, and leave, it feels like an abrupt and rude ending to what might have otherwise been a fun evening.

So, I’m curious. . . what will it take to make you give a shit about being respectful and connected post coitus?

I’ll give you a tip.

It doesn’t matter how good a lover you are, IF YOU DO THIS THEN THE LOVEMAKING SUCKS.

A smooth transition from the bed to the kiss goodbye ensures that the entire event will be viewed in a positive light.

If you tell us we have a lazy eye. . .

If you put on your clothes IMMEDIATELY. . .

If you fail to provide ADEQUATE AFTERCARE you will be remembered as a LOUSY FUCK and we will PURGE YOU FROM OUR PHONE AND OUR MEMORIES.

That is all.

Nooner?

I LITERALLY just started messaging this guy Jerry.

He seemed nice enough.

A bit of a daredevil seeing as how he sent me a pic of him way up in the air overlooking power lines.

Well, he DARED to be as ASSHOLE and I DARED to turn him down.

Has he even READ my profile?

You know, the one where I say that there’s more interesting things to me than just what my VAGINA can do?!?!

Good fucking grief!

I can’t win, can I?

What I hope men think about when they’re having sex with me

Sometimes I wonder if the inside of a man’s brain sounds like the lonely buzz of a fluorescent light bulb.

In reality I suspect their brain cells are working like pistons, constantly firing.

Given that I have my own internal dialogue during sex, I can’t help but wonder:

What would theirs be?

I’m sure it must be more sophisticated than just “boobs, Boobs, BOOBS!”

Sex is one of life’s simpler moments. In the presence of my naked body, I hope a man’s mind becomes pretty stimulated and his mind takes off. Here are the thoughts I HOPE a man could have when he’s in bed with me.

  1. Damn! I forgot to shower. Not that I mind a whiff of musky body odor during sex. I just like the idea of a man who wants to prep for me.
  2. My god, these are perfect! Hopefully the best breasts are the ones that have recently been exposed for his enjoyment.
  3. I should remember this for later. Taking a mental picture of me for later. For.. you know… solo activity.
  4. “Take me out to the ballgame, take me out to the crowd …” I was once told that men sing this song in their heads to hold off the Big O so that they can last longer for their partners. I like a man who wants to extend the play.
  5. Play it cool. I want a man to think he’s totally in charge, even when he’s not.
  6. I wonder if she’d be cool if I tried ______? Every guy has his own bag of tricks and I want to be shown his.
  7. Where did she learn THAT?! I have my own moves and would like to think that I manage to blow his mind once or twice.
  8. So, um, was that an orgasm? When men orgasm, you know it. It’s a show. So I can understand their confusion when, after I orgasm, I just keep going like I’m the Duracell bunny. He doesn’t know if he should keep going? Wrap things up? WHAT TO DO?!
  9. THAT. JUST. HAPPENED. Men may not show it afterward but they’re pretty excited. Nothing else matters at this time. He has me in his arms and his brain is stewing in a bath of feel-good hormones.

I’m gonna come

“But she made the most exquisite noises during lovemaking. . . “ a friend was telling me as he described the things he loved about his ex girlfriend.

First I giggled.

Then I groaned.

I am not a noisemaker.

No.

I am actually relatively quiet.

A sigh here. A little moan there. But nothing too ostentatious.

My lovers can testify to this.

The marked exception is when I feel the BIG O coming on.

Then I’m full of comments and directions.

I am also well noted for liking to say my lover’s name out loud, over and over again.

But I do usually pause before saying any name and question myself, “Is this the right name? Yes? Then proceed.”

So far, I have managed to always say the right name.

At Burning Man, this can be a problem, however.

I know people by their playa names and somehow screaming out “Synergy” or “Panther” during sex seems very comical.

The other day, I was fooling around with someone.

We’ll call him Wiseguy.

And the last thing I could do was scream THAT out.

So I stopped ALL THE ACTION.

And I said, “Wait! I don’t even know your name!”

Sort of ironic, here we are engaging in casual sex and I can’t proceed without a name.

“It’s Ethan,” he told me.

“Oh, ok,” I replied.

“Ethan?”

“Yes?”

“I’m gonna come.”

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Scorpio on Scorpio

I am a Scorpio.

I was born right smack dab in the middle of Scorpio territory on November 2nd.

I was also born a Zezza woman, which automatically makes me a highly sexual person.

So I got a double whammy when it comes to sex.

I have a lot of experience.

But the one thing I haven’t experienced a lot of is Scorpio men.

Charlie the Aussie was a Scorpio, but on the cusp of Sagittarius.

The Israeli was a Scorpio, but seeing as how he likes to cum in girls’ eyeballs, we’ll write him off.

The Photographer is a Scorpio and he literally ROCKED MY WORLD.

And The Swede is a Scorpio (born on the same day as my brother) and we all know I HEART THE SWEDE.

He literally kept me coming ALL WEEKEND LONG!

All these men prove what I’ve suspected for a long time:

SCORPIOS ARE THE BEST!

So imagine my shock and surprise when The Fireman told me he’s a Scorpio too.

I personally think that:

  1. Scorpios make the BEST kissers.
  2. Scorpios make the BEST lovers.
  3. Scorpios are the BEST at talking dirty.
  4. And, Scorpios have the most AMAZING oral skills.

So what if I’m single and not attached to anyone?

I have a steady diet of Scorpios to keep me satisfied.

In the immortal words of The Photographer, “Being with you is like being with the female version of myself.”

It’s a little freaky to be instantly on the same wavelength as someone else.

But I must say, I’m enjoying myself immensely.

All this flirting with Scorpios is REALLY AGREEING WITH ME!

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Things that gross me out in pornos

I’ll admit it.

I like porn.

Its fun to watch other people.

I’m a bit of a voyeur when it comes to sex.

I’m also an exhibitionist.

But there are some things that go on in pornos that I CAN’T STAND.

  1. When the man SPITS on the woman to “lube her up.” Spit isn’t lube. Ew, gross!
  2. Rose budding. Don’t even google it. You don’t want to know what it is. You’ve been warned!
  3. Going from anal to oral sex. Just no.
  4. When there’s no foreplay. I can’t ramp myself up without a little foreplay.
  5. When the guy looks like Ron Jeremy.
  6. When the women are obviously faking it. I like it when the actors are INTO what they are doing. Enthusiasm is EVERYTHING!
  7. Make me squirm.
  8. Lots of gagging and salivating during a blowjob. Men, I think, LOVE this. As a woman, I hate it.
  9. I’m just going to come out and say it – eating cum. I don’t mind it in my mouth but it’s not food so I’m NOT going to eat it. TMI?
  10. Plastic women. Give me a girl with a little jiggle and I’m happy.

Birth Control

I am not a big fan of birth control.

Ever since I got a depo shot and proceeded to cry for the next three months, I’m loathe to alter my hormones.

It was such a horrific experience, it traumatized not only me but my ex-husband who agreed to use condoms for birth control for the rest of our marriage (10 years).

Perhaps this is why he got me pregnant five times. . .

I may not be a fan of birth control, but I’m even less of a fan of unwanted pregnancies, so needless to say I usually have some form of birth control on me.

The nice thing about going through a real hormonal cycle is getting to enjoy your hormones when you ovulate.

It’s seriously the one reason why my ex-husband didn’t complain about using condoms.

For one week out of the month, I was literally GAGGING for it.

He worked the swing shift and I would call him up and beg him to come home and “take care of business.”

I couldn’t get enough.

Now that I’m single, it’s s double-edged sword.

On the one hand, I get to enjoy the ride.

On the other hand, there’s no one coming home to me to “take care of business.”

I also have to be careful because I date men of a certain age who don’t like to wear condoms.

I politely explain that I’m not on birth control and how do they feel about an 18-year financial commitment?

It forces them to slip one on.

The irony is that I HATE condoms.

But since I hate condoms less than I hate unwanted pregnancy, I a compelled to use them.

And voila!

No babies. No STIs.

Two birds. One stone.

Me and Murphy’s Law

What do you think about The Swede coming to Burning Man?

O. M. G.

Right?

I’m beside myself with excitement and trepidation!

First of all, I get excited at the prospect of any of my friends going to Burning Man with me. I love the burn and I love sharing the experience with others.

Secondly, I’ve never had a partner go with me to Burning Man and hang out with me. So this would be something new.

And lastly. . . hello. . . SEX!

Who doesn’t want a tidal wave of that on the playa?

I know I do and last year there was a D R O U G H T.

But. . .

You know I’m a planner and ALL MY PLANS WOULD BASICALLY BE TOSSED OUT THE WINDOW.

I’d have to start all over from scratch (including bringing MORE condoms).

LOL

The food and beverages.

The sleeping arrangements.

The interactivity.

You know how I like to STICK TO THE PLAN.

In addition to changing plans, there’s another concern.

Burning Man is like a hot cauldron for relationships.

If you’re not strong, you won’t survive.

And The Swede and I have just a wee baby relationship.

Dare I put it to the test THIS EARLY ON?

Ultimately, I think The Swede will not go to Burning Man because I want him to go and Murphy’s Law dictates that I won’t get what I want.

But I LOVE knowing that he does actually want to go.

And who knows, maybe Murphy’s Law will fail.

Finger crossed!