Let me preface this by saying that I'm not the most open individual in the world. My feelings tend to come out only when I'm intoxicated, and this is the first piece that I have ever done that was this personal. But it is good to get it out on paper, if only because I have my comfortable semi-anonymity here on E2.



pondering my sex life...

Right. I know what usually follows that line. 'Or rather, the complete lack of.' While this may be true, that is not the direction my thoughts are floating towards this night. I'm not the most sexually experienced man on the planet. At least, not with intercourse. Sure, I've had sex with a few women, and plenty of fun with many others, but my total lack of a serious relationship has left those experiences as one-time isolated events. To really understand, know, sex I think you have to know it with one person, at least for a time. Their landscape of curves must be a path that you have traveled frequently. The feel of their body must be comfortable, familiar. Their touch must feel like home.

But what do I know? Hence the pondering. I've had two completely unique sexual experiences in the recent past. They were seriously eye-opening for this self-styled loner.

"I'm going to rape you," she said to me from across the room. The two forties I had downed must really have been strong to make me hallucinate.

"What!?"

"I wonder if you'd resist me," she continued. "But then, that just might make it more fun." My response was to laugh nervously. My eyes were having trouble keeping track of any sort of vision at this point. My reality was all pulses.

"No, I'm just going to have to have my way with you. Don't worry, you don't have to do anything. Trust me. You will enjoy this."

Now let me interject that I don't really find this girl attractive and that I don't really want to have sex with her. It's a good thing that intercourse wasn't what she had in mind at all. I'm thinking this as she makes her way across the room, first turning the lights down low, and then proceeds to strip me. I know, I know. Of course I could have resisted, could've stopped it cold. But I was drunk and her forwardness was going straight to my head. My other head. What follows is the most thorough oral sex I have ever received in my life. No, it was more than head. Blowjob2. Shit, why would she do such a thing? Oh yeah, and did I mention that she's gay? That's right, she's a member of the pink mafia, but apparently all bets were off this night. We didn't kiss or anything outside of her raw sexual gift to me. To top if all off and really make my jaw hit the floor, she then took me to bed, layed me down, gave me an amazing back massage, and then left! She's gay, so she doesn't want anything from me, and I can't figure out why she bestowed such a gift on me. I slept very well that night, even if I was monumentally perplexed the next day.

Second experience. I made love for the first time in my life. I had often gone down my 'pondering sex life' road before, and I found that I didn't give the absolute wonder and worship to sex that most other people did. Yeah, it's good, but really what's the big deal? Now I know. Holding someone you care about in your arms, slowly rocking back and forth, forgetting that the world exists, being only aware of that soul that is so intimately connected with you. The first story, I can give details about, but not this. It's something amazing that we shared, and I find that I want to go back to that place all the time. My mind constantly dwells in her sound and fury.

So what did we learn today, boys and girls? Well, this boy learned that sex is inextricably bound to emotion, at least for me. Sure, I am a typical male and can fuck anything that walks, but I now realize that I don't enjoy it beyond the most base fleeting satisfaction. There has to be a connection of sorts, or I find myself acting, hiding behind a shadow; something that keeps me from fully enjoying the union. Maybe it's just a lack of union. Sex is fun. It seeps into your blood and generates copious amounts of red steam that swirls around your brain like acid rain, tantalizing, beckoning you to to dwell in her again and again. My lids fall shut and I see her eyes. My brain gives stutter to thoughts of her. May I find solace in her again before long. May I lose myself tomorrow in her kiss.