Safer Sex

Sex is never totally safe. Nothing is safe, to be honest. To live life is to risk dying. That having been said, if you value your life, you will take every precaution to preserve it. If you value your sex life, you will take every precaution to preserve that, as well.

There is a difference between knowing that things are not fully safe and just being reckless. So, while it is impossible to be sexually active and have 100% assurance that you are safe from all STDs, it's always a good idea to practice safer sex.

These are the things condoms protect against:

• HIV and AIDS - You guys know this one. It's the one that tears down your immune system and strips your body of it's protection and defenses. It doesn't kill you outright. It's sneakier than that. It just breaks you down so you can't fight off the minor things that wouldn't have killed you without it. Then, it lets those things kill you. So, skip the barebacking and live through your next round with the common cold. 
• Pregnancy - A one-night-stand is not usually the most opportune situation to get pregnant. Babies are wonderful. We all know this. But, unplanned pregnancies can be difficult and are most definitely life-changing. So, just wrap it up and save the amazing sensation for baby making.

Honestly, the research on everything else is spotty.  It's quite clear that condoms don't protect against herpes. So, what are you going to do?

Here's what ... use condoms. Be smart about sex and look at your partner. Not their face. You can't tell what they may or may not have by how they look on the outside. However, herpes is ugly and when someone is having an outbreak, it shows. This is also the time when you are most likely to catch The Herp. So, look at your partner, wrap it up and protect yourself.

We all know I enjoy sex. Therefore, I want to keep having it. But, I have to admit that I needed to slow down. So, I did. I won't be a hypocrite and I won't tell you to do as I say and not as I do. Just protect yourself.  Don't have sex to look for love. The strongest love you can find is the love for yourself. So, if you love yourself, protect yourself. You can't trust what others say. They aren't going to protect you like YOU can protect you.

But, you can also protect your partners. And you should. It's the right thing to do. So, get tested regularly. Know your body. Know your heart and know your mind. If you are using sex for an intimacy void, check yourself and figure out what you need. It's hard to protect yourself when your starving. If you are in need, realize it. Sex is a sticky sticky subject. (Puns always intended.) There is always emotion involved and there is always risk.

Just do your best to know you and to know your partners. And, because you can't know anyone fully, protect the unknown areas. Sex is great, but it's not as great as life. It's just one of the small parts that can make life better, unless it makes life worse. Be smart and be happy. Best wishes and self-love. 

The One-Night-Stand

This was a hook up. It would never be anything more. I met this man with the sole purpose of having sex with him that night. He picked me up, we had a drink. We only had one, because he said I was drinking too slowly. I suppose he didn't want to be out too long. I didn't care. I hadn't planned on dinner. I had only hoped for sex.

So, when we sat down at the table, he made a joke and I made it sexual. We had our one drink. I lightly touched his arm a couple times and he acted like he was going to drive me back to my place. But then, to my surprise, he actually drove me home. As we turned onto my street, he asked if I wanted to go straight home or if I wanted to drive around and talk.

Just as I was about to get out of the car, he posed the subject. He used some strange A, B equation, then he said some metaphor about 'breathing in the air.' I knew what he meant. He wanted to have sex. And he wanted to do it anywhere we could without being seen. The subject of sex in public had come up earlier in the evening. I wasn't feeling the idea of a possible sex offense charge, so I nixed that idea pretty quickly. I said that I was only having sex in 'appropriate places' from now on. This was probably a lie, as I am quite sure I might engage in some inappropriate sex at some point in the future.

But, I explained to him that sex in public is something one earns with me. I will have sex with you, but I will not engage in dangerous activities with you. That's not even the kind of story I can tell. I met this guy one night and I decided to have sex with him in a restaurant bathroom ... or a vacant lot and we got arrested.  That's why I'm on the sex offender registry.  I can't tell that.  I suppose I could. But, I won't. So, I opted for a more appropriate place, or for my bed alone. He suggested we go back to his place.

We did. This wasn't the safest thing I've ever done, but I sent off my usual check-in text. I sent his information to my sister.

Once we got to his place, the rest was sex. He showed me to his room and took a 2 minute shower while I laid on his bed. He came back in his towel and laid down next to me. Then, he touched me. We kissed each other's necks and chests. There wasn't much kissing on the mouth, but there was a little. We seemed to be on the same page there. It wasn't forbidden, but it shouldn't be overdone in this situation.

I hadn't had sex with anyone new since The Maybe Boyfriend. I had been on two dates with him and I had been talking to him for two months, long distance. So, when we did have sex, it wasn't with someone that I didn't really know. We were familiar with each other. But, I wasn't familiar with this man at all. We only knew the few things we had told each other. But, we had never experienced anything about the other person, first hand.

The most I know about him is what he revealed in bed that night.  His touch was soft and gentle. He was attentive and very present. He said he was a face and breast man. He wasn't lying. His gaze, mouth and hands alternated back and forth between my face, mouth and breasts.

The sex was great. He was all the things I hadn't expected him to be. I thought it might be casual sex. It wasn't ... it was really good. Between rounds, he laid down next to me and asked me to share my warmth. This isn't something I am used to doing these days, but I gave in and I did it. It was nice. It was nice to be in the arms of a surrogate. He was gentle, kind and great in bed. But, in the end, he was a surrogate. Because, the one I really want to shower with affection doesn't want it. However, that doesn't dilute or change the fact that he gave me like 10 orgasms and I'm pretty sure my toes haven't uncurled, yet. I doubt I will ever see this man again, but I am glad we had that night. It had been a long time and it was long overdo.

The Ambitious Text

I have long suspected that texting is ruining my dating life. I now know this to be true. It was never easy really. Dating hasn't been easy for anyone since the days of men hitting women over the head, and then, it was only easy for the man.  As a woman, I can't think of a time in which I would rather have lived.  I don't mean to sound ungrateful for the fact that I am dating, having sex, blogging about it and suffering little-to-no repercussions. I am offered an opportunity that few women in history have been fortunate enough to so freely attain. I am thankful. I don't mean to sound like my dating woes are anything worth complaining about.

That having been said, texting sucks. And for the very same reason that it sucks, I readily use it. That reason? It's convenient. It's easy. That convenience is alluring. It's safer. It's something to do when you are bored. It's so tempting. You don't want to talk on the phone? Not feeling up for confrontation?  Just text. It's easy. So, you can stop talking whenever you like. 

... But, if you should fail to stop talking in time, you canNOT take anything back. Nor, can you easily smooth over dumb statements. So, that very convenience that pulls you in can bite you in the ass. Serious conversations should not be handled over text. And way too frequently, lately, the texts have gone from lighthearted to heavy. It's not a good way to handle even the simplest of serious conversations. We've all had those texts that just didn't sound right. As frequently as we all say things we don't totally mean, I am worse when it comes to texting. 

As of late, I have been far more likely to text something I later regret than to say something that I later regret. Saying something I regret rarely happens lately. But, of course it does. When would I say anything at all? I only text. I have been on very few dates lately and I am not really talking to anyone, so I occasionally talk to The Almost Boyfriend or Lewis. I am texting a few new guys. But, at this point, there isn't much face-to-face time. 

So, I am going to start talking more and texting less. I have had some pretty unappealing text convos as of late and so I am laying off. I am going to fight the convenience of texting. If I want to have the conversation, I will have it on the phone or in person. If I don't want to have it, I just won't have it. I don't get to ride the fence anymore. This whole process is just trial and error. And, in the past year, I have discovered that all the texting is in error. It's time to stop texting and put my words where my mouth is. 

Home, Sweet Home

I graduated! I thought it would never happen. But, two days ago, I moved back to Houston. I am here 'for good.' I worked hard. I wanted this. And .. now .. I have to settle down.

That doesn't mean I have to settle down in all ways, of course ... only that I will be living in Houston full-time. So, I might have to change my approach a bit. Before, it was easy to keep it light and breezy, because I was always about to leave town. The most time I spent in one place was around 4 months. I was always just getting into town or just heading out. I didn't have time to develop anything. If I did create bonds, they were short-lived. They were always built on a foundation of impermanence. I never had to feel anything real.

This was good. I didn't need to be feeling "real" things for any of the guys you have heard about. The only things I needed to feel this past year were a variety of great orgasms and self love. This was a year of getting to know me. I went through months of lots of dates and months of no men at all. It was good. There were ups and downs and it was fun keeping up with all of it and learning as I went.

It didn't just make it easier for me. I think my transience was a desirable characteristic.  I think it made it easier for men. It also made it easier for them to say things that I felt were a bit less-than-honest. They could show interest that they might not have otherwise shown. It was safer, because I was always on my way out the door. I don't think I will miss this aspect.

So, no more guaranteed departures. I have to maneuver the next chapter in my dating life carefully. Who knows? Things might be just the same. My roots in Houston might not bring as much change as I am expecting. I have already had one date and it didn't seem to drastically different than the others... Maybe things in a permanent location will just be business as usual. Either way, it's good to be home. I am happy to be with my family. I am proud of the fact that I just finished a huge chapter of my life and accomplished something I wanted more than I have ever wanted any man. I have a degree. And victory is sweet, so I won't be stopping there. Stay tuned for the new adventures. I am excited to see what the future and this present hold.

Drunk Sex

There are plenty of good reasons why I don't have drunk sex. I generally just like to follow the rules and regulations that I impose upon myself. I don't usually have to be reminded of why. I don't like drunk sex. I remember that. So, I don't do it. Well, I don't normally do it. But, sometimes I slip up and I remind myself. This was one of those occasions.

So, in the wake of the ups and downs of the past few weeks, I made plans to see an old friend. I haven't said much about him. He's mentioned at the end of this post.  I referred to him as The Good Date for a while. Then, I eventually named him James.

He got here early. It was early evening, around 6ish. We started drinking immediately. We had planned to go to dinner, but that never happened. A couple of friends joined us and we had some laughs and more drinks. Before I knew it, I was laughing a bit louder and walking a bit looser. He's really funny and fun to be with. My friends enjoyed him and we all had a good time.

Fast forward to 9pm. My friends headed out and James and I finished off the bottle of vanilla vodka he had brought with him. The rest is a bit of a blur. Which is a shame, because I had really looked forward to blowing off some steam and having a night of healthy sex with a friend. I haven't had sex since Marlon's last visit. Is that true? I'm pretty sure that was the last time. Anyway, it's been a while either way. So, I was ready. The Maybe Boyfriend and I had ended everything and I needed a release.

What I did not need to do is give really 'amazing head' and have 'great sex' that I can barely remember. I needed those memories to get me through the next two weeks. I did not need to wake up wondering why my butt hurt or how I got changed into my night clothes. Why was my homegirl, Pam, asleep on my floor? And why was there a turkey sandwich in my bed? This is all 100% truth. I would never lie to you. There were Doritos too. My mind was left to wonder about all of it, until I got some questions answered. I mean I am not really sure that it's a big mystery that my hand smelled like a combination of balls and vanilla vodka, but I would like to remember the interaction with the balls that left their faint odor behind.

I get drunk about once every 3 to 4 months. And I rarely have sex while in this state. But, this is the second time I have gotten drunk with James and I am pretty sure he thinks I am a lush. I am also not usually an emotional drunk, but I do remember crying to James last night. What the bloody hell? I had a lot of questions for James and Pam. They all got answered. Nothing major happened. Everyone had a good time and James has been texting me funny shit all day. I have been finding condom wrappers all over my room all day.  But, I don't think anything happened here that can't be remedied by a can of Lysol and a shower. Moral of this story? I don't really think there is one. Sometimes you slip up and have a bottle of vodka, forget to go to dinner and then get ass did. Ce la vie.

Guest Post: Tales of a Slutty Roommate

The following is a submission from an anonymous male reader.

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Putting your amateur sextape online is fairly harmless these days, right? There's so much porn out there already and so much more being added every day—no one you know will ever see it. How could they?

Statistics. That's how.

My last roommate liked to fuck. A lot. He once estimated that, since losing his virginity at 14, he had slept with over 1500 men. That seemed like an impossible tally at first—how does someone even get to that point? Jim (as we'll call him) wasn't necessarily that hot, but he did have an amazing ass and a pretty decent cock, plus he fucked with no shame. We never actually had sex—I don't stand in a line that long for anything—but in a magical land with no consequences, I could’ve been talked into it.

At 29ish years old, 1500 dicks breaks down to about 100 per each sexually active year or just under two a week. Especially in New York City, it's not hard to believe that a reasonably fuckable man with loose standards could wander into a new dick every three or four days. I could even see how he could spend years racking up those stats without ever really adding it all up until the list was too long to matter anymore—you know how people are.

Around number 1200 or so, Jim let the guy he was blowing film it with a cellphone. As is usually the case, the guy uploaded the video to XTube without mentioning it to Jim first. Jim wasn’t initially happy when he did find out, but by then, the video had racked up enough views, 5-star ratings and complimentary comments that his ego took over. When most of your self-worth is based on sex, demonstrable proof that thousands of strangers think you suck good dick is hard to pass up.

As much porn as there is on the Internet, there's not as much good man-on-man stuff out there as you'd think. Definitely a lot, but even without trying to account for taste, there are a lot less people who want to see gay porn to begin with so it’ll never catch up to the hetero and lesbian catalogue. Hell, I only watch it around a quarter of the time myself—I masturbate two or three times a day, usually whether I'm getting laid or not, so I can go through the free site supply pretty quickly.

There's no telling what genre of porn I'll end up watching at any given time since I have broad tastes, but Jim was in a high-rated video on one of the more popular free sites. Sure, he was in just one of millions of videos, but it isn’t as if I just type “sex” into Google and jerk-off to the first random thing that comes up. The chances that his mom would see it are fairly low, but I like porn, white boys and oral sex, so I was rolling those dice a lot more often.

When you're browsing through the pages on your porn site of choice, you have to learn to scan thumbnails pretty quickly just for the sake of time management. One night, I was sitting at my computer with my dick in my hand as usual, doing the preliminary scan and sorting the videos into little piles as I went.

"No, no, yes, no, I'll load it up and see, no, yes, gross, yes, no, looks like Jim, no, yes, maybe, y- wait. That guy really did look like Jim."

I backed up a few frames and clicked. There it was. My roommate Jim—who was at that very moment fucking some guy fifteen feet from where I was sitting—shot from a top-down POV, effortlessly deep-throating what must have been a twenty-six inch black cock. The sounds of Jim’s fuckfest in the next room got me started in the first place, but after about 20 minutes, it seemed that the audio alone wasn’t going to get me over the top. When I went online to find something more visual, I had no idea that I’d get this close.

The shock of it was definitely enough to pull me out of it for a moment, so the first two or three times I watched it, I just sat there flaccid, mouth and eyes wide open as I digested what was happening. His face was prominently displayed, and when he briefly pulled the dick out of his mouth to smack it against his face and tell his daddy how much he loved it, the sound of his voice eliminated the .001% of doubt that there may have been. Wow.

Once it all sunk in, I immediately closed the other tabs I had opened and then watched him suck that monster on a loop until I came, which didn't take long coupled with the live-audio coming from the other side of the wall. I was ready again before the post-masturbatory guilt kicked in so I licked the jizz off my fingers and started work on the next round. As a male, multiple back-to-back orgasms don’t happen every day so I wasn’t gonna waste it. I did consider the possibility that it was some kind of violation, but no one’s morality stays intact with an erection.

Jim and I have talked about this plenty since then, but this was earlier on in our relationship when he was still pretending that he wasn't a total slut and only got loud when he didn't realize I was home. I would have been embarrassed to admit that I watched it and figured he'd be embarrassed to know I'd seen it, so I decided to use that as my justification to keep quiet.

Jim still has a flip-phone to this day, so while he clearly knew he was being filmed, I knew he wasn't the user who uploaded it and had no way of knowing if he approved. As a friend, I probably should have manned up and said something in case it turned out that he wanted the video taken down, but I did the wrong thing—found it, jerked off to it, bookmarked it, downloaded it and then jerked off a second time about as quickly as I could get hard again.

I did eventually tell him and, as I said, it turned out that he was fine with it at first. After seeing how easily I found it, however, he learned his lesson in how The Odds really work and the video was taken down just in case. Of course, I didn’t tell him that I kept a copy and continued to enjoy it from time to time so I wasn’t being entirely truthful. I stopped feeling bad about it after awhile, however, because Jim did get a measure of revenge eventually.

To be continued...

Overly Emotional

Let me start by saying, it wasn't him. It was me. I know how this is phrase is often used, he used it on me. But this time, it's true. My outburst of emotion had nothing to do with him, and everything to do with me. It was an indication of the things I had going on. And like so many times before, I didn't handle it perfectly. To be honest, the way I handled it was far from perfect. I acknowledge that and I am working to change it.

Here's the background on The Maybe Boyfriend. No part of me ever wanted to be with him. That is the worst part of it. I didn't want him to be my boyfriend. But, I wanted him to want me. I wanted him to want to be with me. I wanted things from him that I never wanted to give him. I met him. We talked for a couple months. We took a trip and spent a long weekend together. Then we talked for two more months. He was nice and I loved that about him. He was patient and warm. But, he wasn't for me.

At some point, we talked about it and he told me that he wasn't ready for a relationship. I didn't want one from him, but upon hearing the words, I wondered why he didn't want one from me. People say they aren't ready for a relationship when they aren't ready for a relationship, but they also say it when they just don't want a relationship from the person to whom they are making the statement. So, why not me?

Then, I got hurt. I was in the hospital for a few days. It was nothing major, but it was enough that I couldn't get around on my own. It was enough that I had to take meds. It was enough to take a toll on me. While in the hospital, I found out some things about my family that upset me deeply. It was dramatic and the timing was awful. I was crushed. I am over 1,000 miles from home and my support system consists of one 21 year old, that I love dearly and have known for 1 year. I shouldn't have been told this information in the hospital. But, I guess you can't decide when shit goes bad.  Sometimes it hits you all at once. That, mixed with the end of my final semester in school, put me under an amount of stress I wasn't ready for.

I don't tell you this to make excuses. I tell you this to say that I don't handle stress well. I thought I did. But these past few weeks have shown me that I do not. I did not. I folded, folks. The pressure was on and I buckled. I got really upset one night and he let me figuratively cry on his shoulder. I was on meds and I don't remember a whole lot of what I said. But, I know I was upset about being hurt and about my family. That was fine. He was nice and supportive. But, the next day, I was embarrassed that I had cried to him. The next week, I was just an emotional mess. I cried every day. I was lonely and I was trying to get around and finish my last week of school on crutches. It's nothing major, but it was apparently enough.

I had been thinking I should stop talking to him. There were things I didn't really like about our interaction. I wanted him to say nice things and he didn't. Or, he did and I just didn't hear it. I hate to point fingers. But, in this case, I think it was me. I think things were fine. He was probably acting just as he should. But, I wanted validation. I wanted him to be the support that he rightfully shouldn't have been. I've been there before. This is a behavior. I wanted him to support me. It is not his job.

I sent him a text. He didn't respond the way I wanted and I told him that I wanted his support. I told him I wanted compliments and for him to say nice things. I asked too much of him. I wasn't crying. It wasn't a situation where I was mad at him. He hadn't done anything. I just said too much. I was wearing my crazy. I let it all out. And I sacrificed our friendship. Now, he probably won't talk to me again and I don't blame him. I actually emailed him two days later and asked that we keep the space he had created. I apologized and I acknowledged that I was out of line.

That email wasn't meant to get attention. I didn't write it in hopes that he would contact me back. I sincerely think we need to not talk. I am far more embarrassed by my actions than I am sad that I am not talking to him. And, that should tell me something. I was using that relationship. I may have felt like a convenience for him, but I know that is what he was for me. I was wrong in all the ways you can be wrong. I didn't want to be with him, but once I found out he didn't want to be with me, I briefly turned into the jaded partner. We weren't even partners.

So, that's what happened, from my point of view. Girl meets boy. Girl talks to boy. Girl kisses boy. Girl get boys goodies on vacation. Girl talks to boy more. Girl and boy agree to not be together. Girl goes crazy via text for 5 minutes. Boy doesn't text back. Girl reads texts later and hides her head under pillow.

I have been on both ends of this. It's never a good feeling, but I'm not going to beat myself up over it. We all do things we regret. I regret this. Not, because I want to be with him, but because it's not how I want to handle myself or stress. On the other hand, I am also glad it happened, because I got to own it. I got to say, "Look, I did this. And, I am ashamed, but I did it. And now I need to learn from it." Funny enough, I think part of the problem was that I kept telling him I didn't want a relationship. And, I'm not sure how true that is. I'll let you know more about that as soon as I figured it out.

Fruit

While we're on the subject of my likes and dislikes in bed, I always disliked the thought of mixing food and sex. Well, I disliked the idea for the most part. I can't say I've really had much experience. But, for some reason, the idea of the stickiness of chocolate, or other sweet food items, seemed like more effort than it was worth.

The memory of how I USED to feel on this subject makes me realize how apt I am to change my mind on an issue. This is why I never say never and I never say always. My opinions can change day-to-day and I am always open to being proven wrong on a subject. And, my opinion on food and sex has definitely changed.

Nothing major happened to make me change my mind. I actually just remembered something that I hadn't thought about in a long time. It was a narrative memory that came over me the other day when I was eating a plate of melon and chatting with a friend about which melon is the superior melon. I personally love cantaloupe. But, my favorite fruit, overall, is mango.

Then, the memory came. In my early twenties, I shared a one-bedroom apartment with a roommate. She had the bedroom and I lived in the living room. There was one window unit in the apartment and it was in her room. So, I spent the summer of my 23rd year sweating it out. The living situation was pretty good other than the intense Texas heat. The living room had a door, so it was semi private (it opened up to the dining room and we had bamboo rugs hanging to block it off. Oh sorry, sex...

That summer was a lot like last summer, but with less air conditioning. I was single and dating pretty casually.  But, there was this one crazy guy that I dated for a couple of weeks. We were young. So, it was still okay(ish) to not know what we were doing. All of my friends had side-jobs to follow their real passions of throwing parties in warehouses.  So, he was a dj.  I don't remember what his side-job was. But I'm sure it wasn't important. Point is, he was a little crazy and he didn't really have a day-job, so there was a lot of time for heat-stroke inducing mid-day sex.

One day he and I were sitting on the couch. This is the memory. We had come from the southwest side of Houston to my midtown/southside apartment and, on our way, we stopped and got some lunch. For dessert, we grabbed two mangos from a nearby market. So, we were sitting on the couch with our two bowls, pealing and eating our mangos. Mangos are messy. It's next to impossible to eat one whole and not end up with a sticky chin and hands. We exchanged slices to compare.

Then, in our usual fashion, we had sex on my twin sized mattress, in the sweltering Texas summer sun. It was always great to have sex in that room. It was hot and bright. There was no way to make it dark in there. Big windows overtook three walls. So, it wasn't just hot sex, it was well-lit hot sex. And, on this day, it was also tasty.

The sugar water from the mangos was still all over our lips and hands. His fingers tasted like mango and me and his lips were sticky and sweet. We were a mix of salty and sweet. We were sweaty and sticky and it was everything I had imagined I wouldn't like about involving food and sex. But, it was different.

It was great, because it was inadvertent. The sex hadn't called for food. The food had called for sex. We didn't plan out bringing chocolate syrup or whipped cream to the bed. We hadn't purchased the mangos thinking we would 'use' them in bed. We just got them because mangos are delicious. Nothing was planned. The mangos, the sun, the hot breeze blowing the curtains over my twin mattress, they were all just details ... Satisfying accents for an already satisfying act.

So, I think I like something about the idea now. I still can't say I would plan out to have food bedside for the occasion. But now that the thought is in my mind, I can't even think about a mango without thinking of that day. I tasted the fruit and I want more.