Give in to be a "fun girl"

I'm tired of this place. I am. I am sick of the highlight of every evening with a free morning turning into some party in a stale basement filled with sweaty fucking guys handing you cheap beer in the company of slutty little girls with smudged mascara and bruised knees trying to walk strait as they go up a flight of stairs to find a line to wait in for the bathroom so they can take 5 mintues re-applying their rail-road eyeliner that sweated off while they were bumping into other people, letting them grab their ass and laughing it off feeling lucky they were cute enough for some drunken guy to actually get up the nerve to feel them up..

The sweat, smoke and loud, shitty music with bad dancing and drunk conversations. There's always some frustrated guy who's being a dick about the fact you have a boyfriend and you're not willing to fuck him anyway for reasons of self-respect and image...some girl who's cried off all her make-up, who's lost her phone and purse all because she had some bad drunk dial with her boyfriend who goes to a completely different college....and who's already fucked someone else...and she knows this because because he got mad enough to tell her he did after calling her a bitch.

There'll always be some kid explaining to a girl that he's in college and doesn't want a relationship but goes on and on about how good she'd be to sleep with. Her only assets are her tits and ass and if she shakes it all up just right, she'll be lucky enough to get some stupid little fuck to neck her in the corner as he grinds his hard on into her back while she tries to keep her balance, dancing as horribly as she can.

Then she'll get back to his room or hers. Then it begins and there's no turning back without frustration and anger- so she'll give in to be "a fun girl". Inhibitions lost and the thought of how convientient it was that she shaved just 6 hours ago when she got ready for that stupid fucking party.She'll act like she doesn't want a thing. She's good and sloppy now, all over him, looking like shit until he finally turns out the lights...And they'll both ignore the liquor on their breaths and all you can hear over the emptiness of that room is the friction and the heaving breathing that will be done and over with as soon as he comes, and she'll hope that that precious little piece of latex didn't break THIS TIME...because no one likes being nausous for 12 hours... just to avoid making the call to planned parenthood when your period didn't come on the 12th like it did every other month.

The night before is all that matters. The morning after smells of stale beer and vomit and all you can think about is what today is going to be like now that you're good and hung over. You can tell everyone how hung over you are. How hard it was to get out of bed. How smashed you got the night before and awesome it fucking was.

From a Facebook note "ITS ALL BULLSHIT" by Rachael Bell

Today I got pulled out of my Math classes routine to sub for a health teacher for one period. I don't know exactly what the name of the class was, but the students were watching a video on how to say no, particularly in a context of someone pressuring you to have sex. It was one of those 80's videos where you wonder if they really haven't made a single video like this since then, but surprisingly almost everyone was paying attention.

In my mind I got back to the question someone asked me quite a bit back, what does sex mean to me. Today I thought trust. Even if it's non-committal sex, you need to have that temporary trust. Trust in your partner having some basic respect for you, that they will honor your "no" whenever it comes, that they will be clean, and that there will be no kiss-and-telling after the fact. I don't even know how you can honestly enjoy sex when you don't feel safe and secure with the other person. At least that's my woman's take on this.

What does sex mean to you?

I was about to ignore this facebook event when something caught my eye. It was clearly one of those tupperware parties, when it's socially appropriate for someone to cash in on their friends, getting all their gals together for a stealth sales presentation and plenty of overpriced stuff one probably doesn't really need. This seemed somehow different though. I really had no idea what it was about. The description was too vague, and a pretty pink title "Pure Romance" wasn't helping. Candles? Perfume? As always, Google made my life easier. Adult Sex Toy Party...Well, that's romantic.
***
I showed up a little early. The room was full of women I didn't know, with rice-crispy penises and dough-covered weinners spread on the dining table. The party promised to be classy.

We started off with a very interesting question which probably was the most insightful part of the party. The host asked "What does sex mean to you?" She was going to hand a product for every answer and have us pass it around afterwards. Sex is sex, obviously. I think she meant how we perceive it, but everyone answered in their own way.

A rather big woman on the utmost left shrugged her shoulders, "I've been married for 15 years, so there isn't much going on with us. We fall asleep." She got a whip. A pretty lame object for someone whose sex life is that low if you ask me. Is that a way to wake him up?

Next there was this beautiful tall girl with wavy long hair, which gave her a very romantic mermaid look. "Sex means nothing. I'm sorry". I don't remember what she got. I was too lost in my own thoughts remembering that I once tried to learn that mantra, because "sex means nothing" did not at all come naturally to me.

The girl next in line was very obviously pregnant. For her sex was closeness and bonding. It seems like her answer hit home with several girls, including me.

There were many other honest answers: "Painful", "Work". A tom-boyish girl with a cute cap saying "Boobies make me smile", said "Love". Later I found out she was also the youngest.

By the time it was my turn, all my initial answers, like closeness and fun were taken. Sex is a very intimate expression of a sort. You entrust your partner to see you the way not everyone gets to see. My fantasy sex, the one where I did it with strangers, women, people who didn't care about me, was all about fun only, very hedonistic. Not just that in reality. "Pleasure" was my answer. I got lube. Plain and simple.

We later looked at different lotions and potions. My mouth was a little numb from "Great Head", I had something minty meant to be put on nipples on my lips, both wrists were covered with aromatic ointments the purpose of which I have long forgotten. Nothing truly useful.

"Dust it and he will lick it!", our host explained with a tone of a telemarketer. She held a nifty jar with...dust. In my experience he licks without dusting, I thought to myself, but didn't share.

The host used strange terms for genitals mispronouncing clitoris and calling vagina a frog. Things like "His junk" were more familiar, but then left clitoris to be the only medical term used. Overall, her presentation seemed a little too by-the-book and pitchy. Sometimes she was trying to be "frank" or made a comment that perhaps was meant to be a joke, yet no one laughed. Nevertheless she gave me what I want, so I shouldn't complain.

We finally moved on to the part I came for and was very curious about. Buzzing vibrators, shiny bullets, and quiet dildos started wondering across the room. It was the first time I ever saw such things with my own eyes and got to touch and examine everything in a setting that made it perfectly appropriate. This was the fun part. Women seemed to compete in their witty comments about products, definitely not being honest but fun.

In the end it was time to order. The host would invite us one by one to the improvised order room with the rest of the crowd staying in the main room. We talked about lotions...like it was the only thing anyone cared about at this party.

At one point I stopped flipping pages of Pure Romance catalogue and decided to go. It was difficult at the beginning. (this should tell you more why). And then it occurred to me that if I just ask something lame and go away, I'll hate myself later for wasting all this time. So I did what I usually do when I don't know what I'm doing - put it out in the open. "OK, I feel very awkward about this". The host looked at me with indifference, kind of like "you're wasting my time" sort of look. And so I just jumped on it and started asking. I asked so much the host seemed annoyed, but she was content when I left the room with a beaming smile. And I didn't care when everyone looked at me when I almost skipped to my car. I freaking got exactly what I wanted. And I was happy.

How does it feel when I do that to you?

I originally wrote this last weekend, having someone in mind, but then I realized that it's more of a message that could be applicable to many other men and women.

I don't like hearing people talk about "mistakes" that one makes in bed. It is a very subjective experience, and a terrible "mistake" with one partner can be a huge turn-on for someone else. But sometimes what you do is like common sense.

Sorry, dude. It's just not cool when you talk about missing your best sex ever with that other girl, while I'm laying naked next to you, making an effort to make it good for both of us. I'm not at all claiming I'm the best.There will always be someone better than me at something, BUT at that time you were with me, and it would be nice to feel like I'm your number one for that particular moment.
I didn't like hearing I was average. How would you feel if I did that to you? Make me special and I'll want to pay you back tenfold.

I'm not necessarily talking feelings. You know it didn't mean anything to me either. Just try to enjoy it together, even if it's only for now. Let me be fun, give me a compliment, show me that I'm wanted, prove me wrong if I'm self-conscious, just make me feel sexy...and you'll be surprised.

Listen. Not only to my words. Listen to my tongue, fingers, and hips. If you don't listen, I won't be "talking". I will be laying like a log and none of us will get anything out of it.

Do not compare. If it were really about ratings, you'd see me hopping in bed with a timer and a ruler, not that any of it really matters. I believe that in order to make sex amazing, you gotta have more than one person trying. Together you figure out what works for you and your partner, form a unique experience, which is simply not comparable to what you had with others. If you don't like something - talk, show me how to do better, help me. It's partly your failure, too, because we're in this together.

Lastly, I'm not asking for much, just make me feel like a goddess...others did. -- slap in the face. Sorry, couldn't resist :) --

Should I be ashamed?

I just had an epiphany. That wonderful aha! moment, when all those stupid puzzle pieces that didn't go together just a second ago, suddenly line up and form a perfect picture. Love it!

I had sex with a friend last week. For the first time in my life I had sex with someone but my soul mate.

//Before you all make a load of assumptions about me cheating, let me hurriedly explain something. I am in an open relationship, open marriage to be more precise. I love my husband with all my heart. Just because we have a different definition of faithfulness than most of you, it doesn't make us cheaters. If you are still with me not feeling all disgusted and pissed off, I appreciate your open-mindedness. If not, I respect you having a different opinion, though you should keep in mind that there is plenty of other stuff to read online without bashing on my blog.//

Back to the part where I slept with my friend. It went great and there were no regrets. Until...//I'm sure those of you who should've left but decided to stick around, were thrilled to see that 'until' part//one of my close friends, being in a terrible mood, referred to that night's events very rudely. Now, if you've read this or know me at least a little, you won't be surprised that I didn't just dismiss the offense. Moreover, after a while it made me feel guilty, filthy, and just plain bad. That wonderful light experience I had last weekend turned into something to be ashamed of. But why?

I went back and force with my reasoning trying to resolve a conflict within me until...//that's right, there is another, this time triumphant 'until'//I found Hope's blog. Can it be more mind-blowing to find someone that strikingly similar to you? I couldn't stop reading. At the same time there was more realization that this is what I believe, yet I'm too afraid to confront society preaching the virtue of monogamy. Here are Hope's reflections on her sexual experiences:

"I chose to have sex with many different people. An experience I never wish to take back. I learned so much and loved so deeply. Each one of my lovers taught me something, whether it be about sex itself, about being hurt, being loved, letting go and healing, or taking back my power and saving my soul."

Wouldn't I be happy to feel this way in many years, to know that my life was rich and full? There was nothing wrong with that random play. It didn't harm anybody. It was yet another experience that helped me understand the world, and I shouldn't be ashamed of going for it. I knew it all along.

When there are so many people telling you how to live, it is stunning that only one voice could still be enough to help you find yourself and guide you back to your senses. I am thankful, Hope.