I like sex. Just to, you know, throw it out there. What’s interesting about sex though, is that I find a lot of people that are way too shy to talk of anything regarding it. Of course I’m excluding my bar’s patrons, since well, that’s about all they talk about. Maybe I’m biased because I don’t really talk to guys my age about it as much as I used to (I talk to girls that, when I mention sexual activity, blanch and look absolutely horrified that I mentioned something to do with nether regions – “WHAT? What’s a vagina? I don’t have a vagina. Stop saying vagina.”), but I think it applies still.
A lot of young people are scared to talk about it, and I think it’s kind of funny. A lot of people think it’s gross even, and that is just…. so misconstrued. Sex is great! It’s intimate and passionate and oh, so so yummy.
I don’t see what there is to be scared of? Maybe if you’re a relation-phobe in general, where intimacy or trust with a person seems completely unfathomable, sure, but even that can be taken care of. Penises aren’t scary – really? Have you seen one when they’re cold? It’s pretty funny, and totally makes you feel that kind of universal switch in partnership roles from mouse to cat. And think of inverted nipples. But you know.
However, the thing I find about it is that without talking, it doesn’t work. At least if you’re in a long term relationship, since I personally haven’t had any one-night stands to brag about (or regret! Win win). You have to talk, because if you don’t you end up with sex that you don’t enjoy. It might sound funny saying, “Hey, you know that thing you did, with the (body part) in the (an orifice)… yeah, can we try that a little different next time? As in, without it, perhaps?” But it’s CRUCIAL. For example, The Boyfriend and I were both pretty new to the sex thing when we gave it a romp together and went through the whole “Is it in yet?” scenario (which, now, gave me a wonderful story to tell), we had really absolutely no idea what was going on apart from what was supposed to go where. Putting on the condom took like, 10 minutes, which isn’t really a problem the first time (but becomes so during recurring events).
Anyway – the thing is that it was awkward at first, and I think it is for everyone, but the fear of it being awkward does not a good deterrent make. Not for sex anyway. Because if you’re comfortable enough with the person to let them stick their “love torpedo” (as urban dictionary lovingly calls them) into your va-jay-jay, then you’re comfortable enough to tell them something’s up (not, up, which would actually benefit you in such a situation).
As the phrasing goes, Communication is Key.
Apart from all of this sex talk, which, came from um, nowhere, life is very un-sexy lately (remember, The Boyfriend is in pain and all, from surgery) and while I’m not particularly fond of it, I’m focusing on all sorts of artistic endeavours and putting my sexual frustration into writing. Huzzah! I am channelling lots of old non-sex-having-poets, like, perhaps, Emily Dickinson. Hopefully not all of that seclusion though. Although the seclusion and the non-sex-having is probably linked in some non-incredible and inextricable way. Hmm….
TODAY, for sure, I will work. I’ve made a goal of a rough draft for my Personal Context essay. YES. YES, ARINA, YOU WILL WRITE A ROUGH DRAFT TODAY. Okay? Okay. Here’s a cookie, me.
I’m not secluded, what are you talking about?
Sorry for the lack of interesting posts, lately, readers – I figured talking about sex was the only way to make it up to you, so really, I kind of blog-whored myself out. It felt good, though. I miss talking about sex. Nobody talks about sex except dirty old men to me. And that makes me sad.
I will try to get more interesting soon! I promise! I’ll post some “What You Didn’t Know About Arina” posts soon, which were wildly popular on my Livejournal. (Okay, “wildly” is an overstatement, unless you think 4 people is wild? Mayhaps?)
Okie dokie Smokey Peroki!