Sex. It can be as simple or as complicated as you make it. I’m used to being a free-spirited single girl who had summer flings with hot guys, flirted my way through winter by borrowing mens jackets because I was freezing and being in relationships by which I have no extent of feelings for the particular boyfriend at the chosen time. Strange, I know because why bother getting into a relationship when you don’t even have much of an opinion of him, other than the fact he’s nice to you at the time and you feel sorry for him that no girl ever would date him. Except you. Yet I still had sex with these sorrowful, not-so-good looking men. I also had sex with ego-driven testosterone fueled rocket penis’s because that’s all they wanted and then would leave me alone to enjoy my evening (the rest of, anyway). Glass half full VS glass half empty.
When I was 17 (I’m 26, incase you were wondering) I met a guy in 6th form college. He was, erm, ugly. Harsh but true I’m sorry. He fancied all the girls. Even my best friends. Everyone turned him down except, you got it – me. I didn’t even like him that was the strangest thing. I felt slightly nauseous even kissing him. Yet a year later I was to become engaged to this boy, hating my life, my dress size and sex. Yuk. I really disliked sex and he made me fat with kebabs and Chinese takeaways. Call me a bitch but you’ve gotta fancy the guy who’s poking his head between your legs. Most of the time I felt “unwell” and was “on my period” a little too often. Anyway it was a comfort relationship. The transition from school to working life. This was familiar and I became stuck in the habit of seeing him. A habit is hard to break but it had to happen and three and a half years later I’d had enough of the child-like overly possessive tendencies that dehydrated our relationship and bailed out. I kept the ring. Bastard. I rate this as a glass totally empty experience.
My next relationship lasted 6 months with a friend of the above ex. I really fancied him. It was one of those that just happened. We got on amazingly well. To start with. It just wasn’t meant to be. He wanted fast cars and motorbikes and I wanted holidays dipping my toes into the sand, having sex on the beach and reading chic lits. It was a shame but it didn’t work. We’ve all had that, right? Nothing much to say, but it was good while it lasted. Glass half full.
My next relationship I plan to sell to the Sun and Hello magazine for big bucks. Glass completely and utterly fucking broken.
Now I start my flings. I nicknamed them all. It’s easier that way. Mr. Casual, Mr. Wednesday night and probably some others. You meet a guy, he’s hot and you would so sleep with him. You do. Then…nothing. Some were just friends with benefits, others were just very naughty of me to even consider and, well, there’s always one you want to punch in the face. I did have a good time though, I can’t deny that. Single, flirtatious and calling your own shots. You don’t want to date these sorts of guys but they’re handy to have on speed-dial. They come over and get rid of spiders and help pump up your cars tyres. There is just something that wont fill that glass up though. So you just find another.
Oh, there was a short and sweet mini relationship I had with a magician. Again, I didn’t fancy him. In fact by the end I didn’t even like him. He didn’t like me much either but who’s to cry over spilt milk? I liked his tricks though, although fast fingers don’t translate to the bedroom. Trust me. It was a glass full and then I spilt it all and left it for someone else to clean up. Sorry not sorry.
After taking a gap year of being single I got talking to a friend I work with now and then. He designs and is very arty and creative. He offered to design my business logos, we started talking more often and then just like that I’m in his bed and we’re exploring areas that make each other go ‘oooh.’ I think he’s “different from the rest” as the cliche saying goes but let’s just wait and see. Apologies for the soppy bit coming up but referring to my opening line about sex being simple or complicated this is definitely so simple. Not simple as in two pumps and a squirt but we just work together. I never feel used for sex, or wondering if he likes my new ideas because we just talk and laugh, in fact we laugh a lot. I’ve snorted a bogey on his chest mid-sex (by accident) and given a whoppee cushion a run for it’s money. He still finds me attractive. In short this is a glass well and truly bloody filled to the brim!
Sex is complicated because one always likes the other. Rarely do two people have sex just because they met and their genitals had a magnetic response. There’s always a starting point of conversation, an interest and physical attraction. That’s why sex can be complicated.
Sex can be simple if it’s on the terms you both want. Glass half full or half empty that’s half the excitement of life until it’s full up.