Still lusting after the good ones

I have roughly 500 friends on Facebook.

Yesterday, as an experiment, I counted how many of my Facebook friends were ex-lovers.

Out of 500, there were 18.

18 ex-lovers – 16 men and 2 women.

Hey, I had an experimental phase.

No current lovers, mind you.

As I was making my way through the list of friends, I had to do a double take a few times and ask myself, “Did we sleep together?”

Sometimes the answer was “No, we just OMed.”

There are nearly 50 men on Facebook who I OMed with.

Other times, the answer was, “No, we just fooled around a bit but no sex.”

Like with my friend “Nathan” who I used to watch porn with and let him grope me.

And even still, the answer was occasionally, “No, but I REALLY wanted to.”

And there are SEVERAL men who fall into that category.

If I counted all the people who I’ve had some sort of sexual activity with, I’m sure my number would jump in leaps and bounds.

Truthfully, I was surprised there were that many ex-lovers on my Facebook page.

Historically, I’m not the best at keeping in touch with past partners.

I guess Facebook is heralding in the age of long term friendships with exes.

I don’t think that’s a bad thing.

It’s actually quite nice to see them doing well and having a good time.

And of course, still lusting after the good ones!

Bareback Generation

I’ve noticed that there are men who are loathe to wear a condom, even when they’re simply hooking up with a partner for the night.

It’s a little bit shocking, to say the least.

What ever happened to safe sex and the older generation?

Quite honestly, I worry more about unintended pregnancy than I do about STDs which is probably bad, but I am still smart enough to at least suggest a condom.

Remember that one time I was stealthed?

Yeah, the guy took the condom from me then DIDN’T PUT IT ON and instead PULLED OUT AT THE EXACT WORST MOMENT SO THAT HE COULD COME ALL OVER MY BACK, thereby notifying me that I’d been duped into having sex without a condom?

Yeah, that’s a little bit what I’m talking about.

Of course, that behavior borderlines on criminal, I think.

So let’s set it aside for a minute.

What about the casual guy who just simply doesn’t like condoms?

The guy who isn’t worried about pregnancy (because maybe he is shooting blanks)?

I think it’s a generational thing.

Younger men don’t question condoms. They use them by the cartloads. They know – NO BABIES AND NO STDs.

Now, part of me think perhaps it’s not just that bareback sex FEELS better.

No.

Perhaps it’s because of “challenges in the plumbing department.”

What diminishes the sensation also can diminish. . . well, the “device.”

And Lord knows no one wants that to happen.

Then the fun is OVER.

For me, barebacking is for the guy who is a boyfriend. It’s for the guy I’m willing to go on birth control for.

It’s not for the casual hookup.

And it’s certainly not for the guy with criminal tendencies who is willing to TRICK me into doing it.

Call me crazy, but if I get a little skin on skin action, it’s gonna be with someone who I think has some sort of role in my life, when there’s birth control in place, and appropriate STD testing.

That’s just how I roll.

Honest

60 days down, 30 to go.

So you want to know the truth about abstinence?

I thought it would be harder for me, given my proclivities.

I was sure I would suffer miserably.

But the truth is, it hasn’t been that hard.

No pun intended.

You see, I haven’t really been around temptation.

The Swede is in Sweden.

The Photographer cancelled on me twice.

And since no one else has asked me out. . . well, here I am two-thirds of the way through my committed abstinence period and I’m doing A-OK.

Oh sure, I’ve had fantasies about getting it on.

Who wouldn’t?

And I’m TOTALLY LOOKING FORWARD TO my abstinence coming to a close.

It’s been an interesting exercise.

But I learned one thing:

When sex is taken out of the equation, it’s easier to figure out who you want to spend your time with and who you don’t.

There are some people I just don’t want to hang out with when sex isn’t an option.

Meaning there’s no substance to the relationship.

Then there’s people I LOVE hanging out with – both men and women.

I’ve learned to cultivate those relationships more and let the other ones fall by the wayside easier.

I have to admit, rather sheepishly, I’ve also been kinda bitchier than usual, especially to men.

It’s not that I’m a ball buster, it’s just that I’m more tolerant of myself when I’m grumpy and less inclined to fake being in a good mood.

For example, I had a friend who cancelled on me due to illness.

When he called to reschedule, I was feeling cranky because I’d been cancelled on SEVERAL TIMES that week.

And so I said NO RESCHEDULE.

Normally, I would have MADE myself reschedule with him.

I can’t tell you how giddy it made me feel to just follow my mood and say no.

Bitchy?

Perhaps.

But honest.

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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