Warning: This blog is about sex. More specifically about sex with me. Skip this blog if: I gave birth to you, you gave birth to me, if you’re planning on sleeping with me but are jealous in nature, if you don’t want to know about my sex life, or if I slept with you last night.
I don’t know why I don’t just trust my gut. I guess sometimes my vagina gets the better of me. It’s been a little minute since I’ve been intimate with anyone. Not for any reason in particular. Well I guess there was one particular reason, men are selfish. Not all. But the ones I have a tendency to give myself to. It all goes back to 10 O’clock men I guess, or maybe I’m super hard to please. So against my gut, I talked myself into having sex with bachelor #3 last night. I wasn’t going to. I even started to blow him off and not even see him at all last night partly because I didn’t even get off work until nine but mostly because I knew if I saw him there would be sex. I even shaved for it but I wasn’t ready, which sounds very odd to me even as I type it, but I wasn’t.
When I say I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t emotionally or mentally ready. Of course my body was ready. It was just that I was already on the fence with this one mentally because of our differences of opinion and emotionally he wasn’t giving my heart any rollercoaster action but you know how men talk shit about being good lovers or being great at oral sex or being great at whatever it is they either want you to believe or think they are great at so you start wondering and you think well maybe the sex will be amazing and it won’t matter that he doesn’t like your lotion or thinks it’s ok to keep a dog on a chain in the backyard knowing deep down great sex will only make things great in that moment.
He picked me up after work and I went to his house. We had a couple shots, listened to some music, and things got rolling. I’m not going to go into terribly explicit detail because you’ve all had sex, you know how it should start, what should happen in the middle and how it should end. If you don’t, you’re too young to be reading this. So the beginning and middle were fine. Nothing spectacular or mind blowing (which is what I was expecting because of all the talking) but it was good. It was the ending that was disappointing. In his defense, I know I can be a little hard to please but dammit, man, show a little effort. He was a selfish lover. Super selfish. I’m the complete opposite. I’m a very attentive and giving lover. I think the key to being a good lover is making love to someone as if you are in love with them even if you aren’t. And maybe it’s easier for me because I can find something to love about everyone. It’s one of my character flaws. Anyway, long story short, I should have listened to my gut and stayed home because I’m pretty sure I hurt his feelings when I asked him to just take me home. It’s not that I didn’t want to stay and cuddle, but he was already leaving to go grab something to eat and I was irritated. I mean, I might be a woman and not have that “blue balls” problem but I want to get mine too, especially if I gave you two!! I don’t want to have to go home and masturbate.
And every time I have disappointing sex, I always make this stupid pact with myself that I am going to hold out for “the one” and I try really hard but I always fail because I don’t know if there is a “the one” for me and if there is, he’s probably out there getting his mind fucked up by the person he thought was his “the one” and I’ll just get the damaged leftovers. So what do I typically do? I habitually just go and sleep with someone I’ve already been with because I know what I’m getting even if there is no connection or I try something new thinking that there is a connection when it’s nothing more than wishful thinking and I always end up back to square one. Not that square one is a terrible place to be. Square one looks a lot like my comfort zone. It looks like my comfortable sheets and my comfortable pillow and my sanity without doubts or longing for someone to be that something for me that I know I don’t even need. But I get lonely at square one. And I hate myself for it. I used to just be able to have sex with whoever and it was good because I was there. I don’t know what’s happening to me lately, but I’m over it.
RouletteWeekend 