I like sex. A lot. I love sex, actually. It’s one of my favorite things in life. I’d love to find someone who’ll spend half the day in bed with me. Playing. It’s fun. It’s pleasurable. It’s very mammalian, I like being in my body in a pure, animal way.
The notion that it’s super easy as a woman to find as much sex as you want isn’t turning out to be true, for me. For one, I want quality. A quality man and a quality lover/sex partner/fuck buddy/FWB, whatever term you like.
I turned Benedict Cumberbatch celibate. Celibate.
Now Andy only wants to be friends. No benefits. Oh, that was a good benefit package. Fuck. Or, rather, don’t fuck.
O.K. Friends is great. Let’s do it. Oops.
But yes, friends. Andy, adorable Andy from Weeds, is super awesome and I’ll love being friends with him. Once the porn in my head wears off. Uh. His band is sick. That’s not gonna make me want to fuck him even more at all.
So, I still have some serious quality. Sir Edward Norton knows he’s my favorite. And he is. But like Veruca Salt, I want it all. Now. I liked having 2 & 1/2 dudes to fuck. A lot. Now I have one. And what a one he is. But it’s casual. Easy going with potential.
I like this.
But I also like sex, and a lot of it. Everyone’s busy. I might need like, 5 guys, to have as much sex as I want. Yikes. Clearly I am fine without that much. But I was not that fine with none, for so long that my spinster hymen grew back. Didn’t like prolonged celibacy one bit. That shit was bad for my health, physical, mental and emotional. For real. I function better with a functional sex life in my life. If I could be having sex 3-10 times a week I’d be sooo functional.
I do want a partner at some point. Preferably before I expire into crone-dom. A de-facto husband, no papers required. A party, a dress, trips, living together maybe, a life, together and sometimes parallel because I am a total hermit at heart. A horny hermit.
I wish that the opt out guys just wanted the sex. I’d have the sex. It’s a drag. But I get it. Sort of.
I think I’m kind of a like dude in that I can love one man and have sex with sanother, (with permission, of course, I do not cheat) and it doesn’t diminish the love I have for the one I love. At all. Maybe I could have some kind of open-ish relationship. Not Polyamorous full on. Poly-lite. De-facto husband and a bf/fwb. Why not? works for Tilda fucking Swinton.
Maybe I’ll fall so much in love and partner up so deeply that I don’t want that. Maybe. I’m open. But I have to be open to being open to be open. Yeah. Metta.
And such quality men keep opting out.
You can’t hurry love.
And I just wanna fuck.