Why Did I Avoid Her For So Long

Heat, Lack of

The reason why I can't describe my encounters with anything more positive than "fine/nice/pleasant" is because I want emotion behind the physicality.

The reason why I can't get myself off in front of someone is because I don't feel anything more genuine than lust for him/her.

The reason why I can't write good, soakworthy smut is because I've never been in an actual, functioning relationship where the affection is mutual, and the love lasts longer than 36 hours.

But I'm terrified of emotional intimacy.

Where's a compromise when you need one?

Overdue

It's odd. Last May I couldn't stop writing about my one-night encounter with Ben--I still can't stop writing about it. Karen continues to haunt my dreams and my Microsoft Word documents with moments we will never have. I write all these short essays ruminating on my physical experiences with these people, but when I finally, finally--after months and years of wondering waiting agonizing--lose my virginity and have sex for the first time, I can hardly put together two semi-poetic sentences. What can I say? It was remarkable and unremarkable, anticlimactic and yet everything I had hoped for. Maybe, this one time, I am at a loss for words because there is too much to say--or nowhere near enough.

He was essentially a stranger. A friend of a friend I know next to nothing about. He didn't know anything about me either besides the usual information exchanged in introductions: age, school, and vices. The menage a trois I had engaged in the night before made me bold, and I decided that he was the one I would sleep with. Please know that I didn't choose him and expect flowers or a relationship afterwards. I doubted he would take me to previously unexplored sexual heights either. But before you think that I had slept with him simply because he was there, let me explain. He wore wire-rimmed glasses and tight jeans that showed off his ass, made video game references, and awkwardly danced behind me with his hands on my hips to Cee-Lo's debut album.

In short, he was a nice guy, but not so nice that he felt reluctant to bed a virgin stranger. He was patient and took his time to make me comfortable and ready, but also went along with my kinkier requests that left red trails down my back and my own ass feeling slightly numb the next day. The best part was that he still respected me in the morning and didn't treat me any differently. I had known for a long time that my first wouldn't be with a boyfriend or close friend--that would have brought a level of emotional intimacy I was determined to avoid associating with my first brush with sex. I just didn't imagine that an opportunity as perfect as that one would present itself so neatly. When we parted ways, it didn't bother me that I will probably never see him again.

The sex itself was fine. He filled me with a dull fullness that ached pleasantly and managed to last for an adequate period of time before spending himself into a Trojan. As usual, I did not get my happy ending despite his many attempts to do so, and I finished the job after he had fallen asleep. I suppose now that I've had complete sexual relations with a man, I should know once and for all which way I swing, but I've come no closer to discovering the answer than I was before. As a general rule, the first horizontal tango only gets better from here which means I will have to experiment further to gather more conclusive results. However, I will say this: in the threesome, when I let my hand slip past Shauna's belly and touched her there, it was unbearably soft, and I wish my fingers had lingered there longer.

Three Isn't Too Crowded

I am sitting on the couch, a blanket draped over my lap, when Danish appears in the doorway.

“Shauna and I are going to bed now,” he drawls.

I nod. “Yah sure whatever, see you tomorrow.”

He shifts from side to side until he seems to steel himself. “You’re welcome to join us in the bedroom. It’s an invitation.”

“What,” I blurt out. It takes another few seconds for me to fully process the meaning behind his words. “You mean—?“

“Yes, a threesome,” he plows through, “we thought it would be in everyone’s best interests to participate in such an activity.”

“Ah,” I respond stupidly. “I, uh. Yeah. I have to think about this. So a little time. To think about this.”

He walks away, and I am still seated on the couch, touching my face to gouge how drunk I am. Still very buzzed, and I know I am just now entering the tail-end of my high, but sober for the most part. I definitely did not expect this after leaving the party we were just at an hour ago. This is the fourth time I’ve been propositioned for a ménage a trois. I’ve said no all those other times. I’m tired of saying no. Can I pull it off tonight? I have to make sure somehow.

I spot Shauna walking into the bathroom, and I follow her.

“Was this threesome thing your idea?”

She laughs. “Yeah it was, actually. I’ve never been with a girl so I want to try. Danish and I have been talking about it for a bit, and you were the best candidate.”
Bug-eyed, I shake my head. Then look at her. “I have to make sure I am physically down for this.”

I cross the room and kiss her, my hands massaging the sides of her neck while she runs her fingers down my back. The realization that I can do this arrives when I slip my tongue inside her mouth, and she reacts with an enthusiastic murmur. We pull away. She takes my hand and leads me to the bed room. We commence a threesome with her boyfriend. They are both my high school friends. Whom I just had a threesome with. On my first night of Spring Break vacation. At the age of 20.

There was a rabbit vibrator involved that at one point trailed its way across my chest, dipping down my stomach to skirt the edges of my nether regions. There was one voyeur (read: yours always) who observed a couple in the throes of coitus and touched herself. There was frequent Y-dining sessions, manual stimulation, two happy endings, and one non-orgasmic Asian girl left at the end of it all. Resigned to my perpetual, self-named case of “Performance Anxiety,” I get myself off while the both of them sleep.

The next morning we all wake up at 11am and stare at each other before collapsing in a fit of self-satisfied giggles. The three of us just had our first threesome. And it was fun.

My Life is Entourage

Saturday: attend party, almost get ass but fail

Sunday: get pulled into a 3some, get ass

Monday: smoke, go out for pizza, pick up someone, sleep with that someone and get ass

Tuesday: smoke and rest

Wednesday: smoke, rest, do homework

Thursday: smoke, drink, and another possible 3some with new people?

Friday: return home

Rush? What Rush?

March 14, 2011. A day that will forever live in sexy infamy. More to come at the end of the week.

Nerdgasm > Orgasm

I bought the game yesterday. Let the good times roll.

Wish Fulfillment

So last night was my longest dream to date--well, I can't really measure how many minutes or hours it lasted, but I could definitely feel the length. It was also the first dream to feature the cast of Community, specifically Jeff, Annie, Britta, and Troy. I title this post "Wish Fulfillment" because the dream was exactly that. I was in it. I was a major player. There was plot. And dramas. And hookups/breakups/makeups.

- Britta was my college roommate, and Jeff/Annie visited often

- Troy was a peripheral character here, which makes me sad

- I was not part of their Spanish study group, but I was privy to much of what went on amongst the members

- I saw Britta/Jeff hook up in my dorm room

- I made out with Jeff in Britta's bed

- which directly led to Jeff realizing that I was not meant for him, but Annie

- my dream culminates in a Jeff/Annie kiss

- I think dream-me was bummed out about Jeff not picking me in the dream (in real life, I would be getting with Troy, durr)

- Abed, Shirley, and Pierce all made extremely brief appearances at the beginning, and then they disappeared

- Britta was not pleased with the Jeff/Annie and Jeff/dream-me dalliances

~~~

You see? The Jeff/Annie shipper is strongly ingrained in me that I can't even have sexytime with Jeff in my dreams. The show needs to throw them together in the end or I will raise unholy hell. Ahem, only on this blog of course.

This Explains My Recent Spate of Nightmares

Check, Check, aaand...Check

HOW TO KNOW IF SOMEONE IS HITTING ON YOU

1. If in a group setting, does the person tend to focus on talking to you?

2. Does the person ask you many questions about yourself?

3. Does the person constantly find reasons to touch you?

4. Does the person make a lot of eye contact with you?

5. Does the person make many jokes or efforts to be funny?

And there you have it--my foolproof checklist. No longer will I be ridiculed for my obliviousness! No longer will I miss opportunities to sharpen my game and wit! No longer will I be forced to write these posts where I lament yet another fish that swam away! NO MORE!!!

Expect one this month >_>