Tag Archives: sex

Chapter 7. The sex life you try to forget.

2 Jun

 “I felt something wet and after he switched the light on I sat in horror”

I was thinking recently about the assumption I used to have that I was great in bed. Because everyone I knew wanted to sleep with me I got this inflated opinion of myself. As I have mentioned before, having sex doesn’t make you a sex symbol, but at the time I honestly believed I was a sex god. As I started to think back I realised that quite a lot of my sex life was just hilarity or embarrassment.

The fact that people still wanted to sleep with me suggests that people had been so embarrassed they had kept their mouths shut.

The first person I ever slept with is fairly tragic. It wasn’t until a few year later that I realised that he had actually never came when having sex with me. Obviously neither had I. Every time we had sex, about half way through something would happen that meant we had to stop. It was usually me getting bored. It seriously makes me wonder how desperate he must have been to still have sex with someone who used to get bored halfway through. I had such a deep fear of being on top during sex that I would just roll over when he got tired and stop.

He now lives with his twenty year older drug dealer who is also a prostitute. It might paint a clearer picture when I mention that she is the mother of his best friend. Her ex boyfriend who had just gotten out of prison to find out she had left him, went round his parents house and poured paint stripper all over their brand new car. And to think, his mother thought I was going to be the worst girlfriend he would have in his life.

A while after we broke up I met someone new. For some reason I was no longer scared to go on top. I was also no longer scared to do anything. He could have chained me up in a sex dungeon and kept me as a slave and I would have went along with it. We used to sneak away when I was at work and have sex in the store room. Most of the things that happened no one would even believe. Having sex halfway through the annual school cross-country in the bushes beside the track as people ran past was pretty outrageous.

I got a summer job looking after someones house while they travelled. It was mostly cleaning work and making sure their horses were fed. He came to see me one day while I was still working and we snuck off to the bathroom. On the marble floor he finally managed to persuade me to do anal.  I got so tense that he decided to loosen me with his finger. As he pulled it back out a horrible smell filled the dark room. I felt something wet and after he switched the light on I sat in horror with my own faeces running down my legs.

At some point I will share the rest but for now I will leave you with that image.

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Chapter 5. Having sex doesn’t make you a sex symbol.

30 May

 

 

“I would like my readers to pause dramatically here while they imagine the implications of oral sex with a period thrown in.”

In my life I found it too easy to mistake my own beauty for mens desire. When men want to sleep with you, it doesn’t mean you are beautiful, it just means they want sex and think they can get it from you. Well that’s how it worked for me. If you think me living my life by an Oasis song was bad, nothing beat taking life inspiration from Samantha from Sex and the City. Having a ‘to have sex with’ list and making it my life ambition to fulfil it wasn’t the best idea I have ever had.

I like to make out that the Italian boy in student halls was the only boy to take me as a fool and to use me. If you believe this you would be very mistaken. My whole life was pretty much one boy after another seeing how far they could get with me. Which was usually all the way. I believed that people wanting to have sex with me meant I was beautiful, every time I slept with someone new I was filled with a kind of pride. A sense of self confidence because surely all these men wanting me meant I was a sex symbol.

My friends were far from acting like nuns. In-fact, no disrespect to them but they were sluts as well. Everyone in my group of friends had slept with each other. At one party even two of the girls slept together. In the kitchen in-front of everyone incase anyone was wanting some sordid details. One of them was on their period at the time, just thought I would throw a little background in there. I would like my readers to pause dramatically here while they imagine the implications of oral sex with a period thrown in.

With this kind of lifestyle being completely normal I never realised how cheap it made me.

My first year in Uni I carried on sleeping with people in the belief that I was in control of the situation. I wasn’t, I didn’t realise that whoring myself around wasn’t giving me power, it was taking it away. Every time I slept with someone I was punishing my self-pride even more. The worse I felt the more times I had sex to try and feel better. It was a vicious cycle.

I remembered something the Italian boy told me. I had mistaken it for a mistranslation at the time but it really struck me when I finally realised the kind of reputation I had. We were stood smoking when he turned to me and said “I like you, I have more chance of getting something with you than I have with anyone else”.

I would like to say that I have changed but I guess I will have to work on that. I like to think I wouldn’t sleep with someone just for the kicks but the reality is I probably would. I know I usually leave each chapter with a moral but there isn’t one. Once a cheap slut always a cheap slut sadly. The gap between being a slut and being frigid is pretty thin, and I don’t want to be either.