It’s not like I beg for it… or do I?

I like to think of myself as a good person… I like to think I try not to do things that will hurt other people. I like to think I have a strong set of values and morals… I like to think that I know the difference between right and wrong.

So why do I find myself constantly attracted to married men? Or better yet, what is it that they see in me… what kind of vibe do I put off, that causes them to be attracted to me? Now don’t get me wrong… it’s not like this happens A LOT. But it’s happened 5 times. In the last two years. Which is probably a lot to some people…

One guy I’ve talked about before… he drives me crazy in the best worst way. He makes me weak in the knees, and I can’t say no to him, even though I know it will never go anywhere. He’s the only one that’s been consistent… every few months or so… and he’s the only one I actually have feelings for.

Two guys were one-night stands… one of them I had hooked up with before during college… the other I had met before but never done anything with. We flirted… but he definitely initiated the whole thing.

One guy was technically separated… so he doesn’t really count.

And then there’s guy number 5. I’ve told him no. I’ve refused his advances to even kiss me. But, I did give him my number. And now he calls me, and wants me to come see him, and wants me to meet him and his buddies out at the bar. I tell him no every time, yet he persists. Am I attracted to him? Yes. But he has a wife… and this wife I actually know. So I will NOT do anything with him. And I’ve told him that.

But how do I get here? How do I get myself into these situations? What is it about me that invites married men? Obviously I put off some kind of vibe… desperation? Nymphomaniasm? What do they see??

Even more… what do they see that single men don’t????

 

The art of climax

It’s been a while since I’ve had sex, which may be why it’s on my mind… but I was lying in bed last night, giving myself some quality attention, when I started to wonder why it was so easy to make myself orgasm but nearly impossible for any man to get me there.

With Dumbass #1, it was easy. Once we figured out the position (me on top), I came nearly every time we had sex. He was black, which may explain a few things…

Man I Saw a Future With did okay… but even after we’d been together for a few years, it still wasn’t an every time occurrence.

Dumbass #2 was only really in the running for a couple months, and while the fit was perfect, and it seemed like he should have been able to get me there, he still never did.

Those were the three main players… but if you add in all the occasional hookups and one-night stands, none of them ever got me there either.

Which leads me to believe a lot of it is ME. I’m a rather guarded person… I don’t let people in very easily or very often… which may be why I like one-night stands… I get sex, they leave the next morning, and I go back to my daily routine. AND… I like the way I feel when they orgasm. I feel powerful. I did that to them. And while it’s more of a release for guys than anything to do with emotions, it still makes me feel like I, at that moment, was able to make them weak in the knees and vulnerable.

And I don’t like to feel that way. I don’t like a man to make me feel vulnerable or to have that power over me. I once read that orgasm releases extra hormones that make you feel stronger for the person you’re with… so maybe my inability to orgasm with a man may have more to do with my fear of getting hurt… my fear of rejection… than anything to do with the sex we’re having.

I still enjoy sex. Orgasm or not. But, obviously, an orgasm makes it so much better. 

Maybe it’s a good thing… maybe that’s how I’ll know when I’ve met THE ONE. He’ll make me orgasm the first time we have sex.

And then I’ll be set for life. 

If he were mine…

…I’d take him in my arms and tell him everything will be okay…

…I’d tell him he’ll find another job… a better job… or… I’d tell him, fuck it. Let’s move to Missouri!

…I’d take him out for a night on the town, just the two of us…

…I’d lavish him with attention and tell him how much he meant to me…

…I’d at least be there… physically…

 

I wish I could help him. I wish I was the one he turned to.

But hell, maybe I just wish I was someone anyone turned to…

 

I’m back

I haven’t posted here for a while… it’s hard for me to decide what’s okay to post publicly and what I should only fess up to anonymously. Some things are obvious… like my addiction to a man off-limits that I simply cannot break for the life of me… or the number of men I’ve slept with…

Other things are a little less obvious… now that much of my family reads my public blog on a regular basis, I fear this anonymous blog will get a little more action than it has.

I slept with MM this weekend… I didn’t mean to. I have a new crush, and I fully intended to stay true to this crush (even though he probably doesn’t even know yet that he’s my newest crush), but MM called, and as soon as I saw him my resolve skedaddled out the door. He always makes me feel so good. Not just physically… it’s what he says that gets me.

It’s always so good with you.

I wish I didn’t have to leave.

God, you’re amazing.

And it’s the way we talk, and flirt, and have fun together… like I’ve known him forever.

But it could be all a lie. He’s obviously good at lying. He obviously has no qualms about it. So maybe he’s lying to my face and I’m just naive enough or god-forbid smitten enough to not care.

But I don’t regret it. I never really have. What’s the point?

I’m going to hell.

Another weekend…

I’ve never considered myself an alcoholic. I’ve had the occasional night of binge drinking (okay, maybe a little more than occasional), but I’ve never been one to need alcohol.

I like the way it relaxes me. I like the way it lets my guard down. I like how it makes me feel a little sexier, a little more confident, and a little more charismatic.

On the other hand… I don’t like how it affects my decision making. I don’t like how it affects my memory. And I don’t like how it makes me feel the morning after a night of overindulgence.

So tonight, and this weekend in general, I’m going to try it in moderation. I’m going to try going to the bar and only having a few… and then I’m going to try to hang out at the bar for another hour or so without drinking… (usually when I stop drinking I’m ready to go home).

And maybe I’ll start at home so I don’t spend so much money… hmm… I wonder what I have in the fridge…

Apparently I have no shame.

I did it again. I broke the vow of sisterhood. I slept with a married man.

 I knew it was wrong. I knew it was wrong when just the flirting was going on. I knew it was wrong when I got into his car. I knew it was wrong when he came into my house. I knew it was wrong when he kissed me and undressed me. I knew it was wrong when we had sex.

 But I enjoyed it. I had fun doing it. I never once actually thought I’d stop it. Even though I knew I should.

And afterward? I didn’t feel any different. I didn’t feel remorse. I didn’t feel ashamed. It happened. Life goes on. 

Does this make me a horrible person? I kind of think so. What kind of issues must a woman have to do something like this? To do something like this and really feel unashamed after the fact? To do something like this and know that, if the opportunity arose, I’d probably do it again?

The thought has crossed my mind that I sleep with married men because they’re unavailable. Because the morning after, I never have the false hope that they’ll call. I never have the anxious anticipation over whether there’s a future. I never have the “this could be him” thought, because I know he’s already taken. And I have never had any delusions that I’d actually be the one he’d leave his wife for. It’s easy.

It’s selfish. I think, “no one knows so no one will get hurt.” And maybe the wife will never know. And maybe he and I will be the only ones that ever know. But maybe someone will find out. And then what? Then all shit hits the fan and I’m the skanky whore who slept with a married man.

So maybe I feel a little remorse. Maybe I feel a little bad about it.

Mostly, I’m pissed off that he didn’t make me cum. He guaranteed me he would.

Guess he’s a cheater and a liar.

when the past rears it’s ugly head

So I just had one of my worst nightmares realized.
 
I went to the gym over my lunch hour because I slept in this morning. Behind the desk was a guy. I had never seen him at the gym before. I had seen him… a lot of him… over a year ago. It was some holiday weekend… must have been Thanksgiving… he was at the bar. I, of course, was at the bar… my usual hangout. And we proceeded to have a wild night. I had to give him a ride to the city the next morning.

A week later, I saw him at another bar… I was wasted, and proceeded to make an ass out of myself. That was also the same night I puked in my friend’s car on the way home, and lost my cell phone somewhere on the side of the road when she pulled over. Pretty much all I remember of that night was making an ass out of myself over this guy.
 
And now he works at my gym. And I don’t even remember his name. And I didn’t have any makeup on this morning… not even my usual mascara. And I recognized him immediately. And then I proceeded to kill myself on the treadmill for half an hour. And then I looked even worse because my face gets really red when I run… and then I had to get my membership card from him when I left. I have no idea if he recognized me, but I pray to god he didn’t.
 
New motivation for me to wake up at 5:30 to workout instead of going over lunch…

It’s not easy being a woman

I had a revelation last night. Well, I think it’s a revelation… it might not mean much to anybody else. But I’m sure I’m not the only woman who has sexual highs and lows. Sometimes I have this desperate need to get laid… other times, don’t touch me. And it all has to do with my monthly cycle. Certain times of the month, women have a higher sex drive than others. It has to do with hormones and whatnot… it’s biological. We can’t help it. Sometimes our bodies just don’t want sex… there have even been times where I’ve wanted sex, but my body is completely unresponsive. That, dear men, is not a woman’s fault.

Sure, there are ways around it… lots of foreplay… lots of lube…oral… but truly, sometimes it’s just not gonna happen.

The week before my period, I’m horny as hell. The week of my period, I’m even hornier. But come on, who wants to have sex while that’s going on? Not me. Yeah, I know there’s some guys out there who don’t care…. the whole “drive through mud, fuck through blood” mentality… I’m not of that kinda cloth…

Anyway…  my revelation is this: Learn your cycle. If you’re a man, learn your woman’s cycle. This would save both sexes a lot of stress in the long run. Men would know the ideal times to ask for sex. And women would know the ideal times to initiate sex. There would be no more fighting cuz one wanted sex when the other didn’t… there would be no more “I have a headache” excuses… and instead of getting half way through and realizing you need some extra lube but it’s way in the other room, you’ll already be prepared cuz you’ll know that having sex on that day will require extra lube. Simple enough, right? I think so.

Just helping to make sex a better place…

A fresh start

So far, in 2008, I’m a virgin. I haven’t had sex yet this year. And that’s a good thing.

I’ve been single for two years now. (Okay, I dated someone for a few months last spring, but he was an asshole, so he doesn’t really count.) And since I’ve been “single,” I’ve had sex with eleven men (at least, that’s all I’m recalling at the moment… I really think that’s it, but there might have been one or two more…).

I’m not going to do that this year. It’s been over six weeks since I’ve had sex with anyone, and I’m not going to have sex again until the man I’m having sex with is my “boyfriend.” Meaning, we’ve gone on more than five dates, and we have future plans, and he actually shows an interest in meeting my parents. This is easier said than done.

I like sex. It feels good. It’s enjoyable. I’m good at it. And after a few drinks, I really want sex. Which is why, when I’m drinking and talking to a handsome man at the bar, and flirting begins, and he’s interested and I’m interested, it inevitably results in sex. And the next morning, I shrug my shoulders and think, “there’s nothing I can do about it now,” so I forget about it and move on. Sometimes I feel ashamed. Sometimes I regret it. But ultimately, what’s done is done. So I’ll tell myself that it’ll be different next weekend… and sometimes it is. And sometimes it isn’t.

But this year, it’s going to be different. I mean really, truly, different. Partly because I’ve lost weight, so I feel better about myself. Partly because I’m really getting sick of the bar scene, and it’d be really great to have someone to stay home with on a Friday night. Partly because I’m tired of worrying about the aftereffects of a one-night stand… pregnancy, or STDs…

So I’m done with sex. I have a drawer full of toys that will keep me entertained until the next long-term man comes along. I deserve more. I’m better than that. And this year, I’m going to demand respect. I’m going to be appreciated for me, not for my prowess in the bedroom.

Guess I better stock up on batteries…

Raw and unedited…

Sometimes the whole point of writing in my blog is so I can vent about things I don’t want anyone else to know about… this becomes a problem when friends and family read your blog on a daily basis and know that it’s your blog. 

So this is my private blog. This is my anonymous blog. This is where all my dirty secrets come out. And this is where nobody knows my name.

Enjoy.