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Comfort Sex... I slept with a man for comfort and I finally slept with a man just for fun...I fgure I am old enough to do that now? To like someone and be liked and have sex just because there is chemistry and mutual like??? ADeadHeart is feeling all grown up.
And all it took was a bad break up, a little comfort sex, shit loads of chemistry and half a bottle of Goldschlager.
Remember the first man you had sex with after a long relationship had ended? Something made you decide that you were ready? Either that or you just decided that you were a horny little bitch who deserved to get laid?
It took me a minute to get to a point where my body desired and craved things and my heart situation, or lack thereof, was no longer a contributing factor.
I had to come to the realization that I was old enough to have sex if, when, how and with whomever I chose. Damn it. I had to justify that having sex without being in a relationship did not make me a whore. Or a slut. Or whatever choice term you prefer. I figured it out pretty quickly…
So, first stop? The ever dependable ex-boyfriend. Who better to slake your lust on then someone who has at least SOME knowledge of your body? I mean, at least he would know not to treat your clit like it was a piece of Trident. (Tell me you have not all been there? Ouch!) Granted, he may have been a little lacking in the sacking when you were together, but who better to practice your newfound sophistabitch talents on? Who better to giggle at and simper to and flirt with? After all, if he still wants to fuck you, it shouldn’t be too difficult to take advantage of his passionate addiction to you and go from there.
Looking back, I call it comfort sex…because that nervousness…those initial new sex partner pangs of, “Do I look fat? Will it be good? Will he call?” None of that shit matters. He wants you regardless, you already know how good (or bad, or semi-acceptable in this case) it will be. And who cares if he calls? (And he WILL call. Stupid boy.)
Still, even comfort sex took a few tries. Seeing that long lost penis for the first time in many months was quite a shock to my prudish system. I blushed. I may have giggled. I was slightly humiliated by my lack of sex goddess behaviors and attitudes. But cut me some slack…it was odd. A little awkward.
I’d gotten used to a certain penis. A certain body. A certain smell. A certain LACK of testicular shaving that I have a renewed appreciation for now.
It took a few tries…and I am happy to say that while I awaited sexual freedom, I certainly was given the opportunity to enjoy myself. Nothing says “fuck me, please” more then a few nights with blue balls…while you lay there in blissful, post oral sex bliss. HA!
Now, I was still a little nervous. Was I easy? Would it suck? Did this mean I had to be his girlfriend again? Because I didn’t want to be a girlfriend. I just wanted to be loved on a little bit by someone I trusted, mostly, with both my body and the knowledge that he was using it. You know?
But it couldn’t last forever.
Chemistry hit me across the face and ADeadHeart is not looking back.
Jeep Guy and I had been making eyes at each other for ages…
Finally I asked him over to the house. Just to hang out. Chit chat. Stare at the television.
Slowly it escalated…over days, weeks perhaps…we watched a movie together. We stared at each other. We decided that the curiosity would kill us and made out for hours. We groped and bit and sucked and pulled…and waited…the single condom in my desk drawer patiently waited with us, secure in its fate.
One night, after spending hours pouring over music and nearly antiquated arcade games, I played my trump card. “Let’s do shots.”
A bottle of Goldschlager, a birthday gift, had stood in the freezer since August. It was time to put the damn thing to good use.
I don’t know who wanted it more…but I will damn sure be doing it again. Already familiar with each other it was not as scary as I had thought it might be…slightly hungover, with bruises in my inner thighs is how I like to wake up in the morning. (Or the afternoon…as the case may be. Poor guy was late for work. Ooops. Sorry.)
Suffice to say that is was a fabulous experience…and I look forward to sharing the details with you - - - once I have him again. Sans alcohol. ;)
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