Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Seven things I like - Part seven

7. Sex

Who doesn’t like sex, right? Honestly I think you’d be surprised.

I used to work with a girl who loathed it, said it made her skin crawl. And not just with a certain guy, with any guy. She just couldn’t enjoy it. I, of course, assumed that she’d had some kind of bad experience in the past, but after getting to know her, becoming friends, and point blank asking – I found out that there was no real reason at all. She’s been with the same guy for about five years now and he has to pretty much beg for it, the poor lamb.

I love her to death, but if I were her man, I’d be singing “What’s love got to do with it” as I moonwalked out the door on my way to stick my wang in the first hot chick available. Which might be why she calls me Al instead of Alyson.

I wasn’t always that way. I suppose in some ways I used to be worse.

When I was younger it was quantity over quality – As long as you were getting some, who cared if it was great? Like smoking cigarettes, it was cooler to do it than it was to abstain, even if you weren’t sure you liked it. I don’t know if that attitude was simply peer pressure or more of a combination of things.

My mother never mentioned sex to me. Ever. I figured that I knew the basics well enough anyway from reading the Judy Blume book Forever and watching my cousin Ashley demonstrate with naked, dry humping Barbies. And then there were the scenes in Days of Our Lives. Until the age of 15 I was convinced that if sex was going to be any good at all, it had to be done between purple sheets, in a candlelit room, and he’d better be using his John Black raised eyebrow face right as the over the top saxophone music started playing. Which really made going to that Kenny G concert awkward because I kept looking around in horror, waiting on the other spectators to start arching their eyebrows and touching each other.

My first time was so far away from any of that. I remember thinking, “This is what all the goddamn fuss is about? THIS is what guys want? Psssh, whatever.” There was no pain, no bleeding, nothing. Now that I’m older that doesn’t surprise me. I spent my summers riding horses, jet skis, and tubing on water rougher than two day stubble on a transvestite. My cherry hardly had time to settle in before it was being popped unobtrusively, like just another zit on the collective face of adolescence.

Being introduced to the world of “sexual activity” with so little fanfare had a marked affect on my attitude. There was power to be had, and all I had to do was assume the position and make a bit of noise. A horrible outlook for a teenage girl, but there you go.

After discussing it with my therapist there is, I suppose, a distinct possibility that I was a complete whore bag because my daddy didn’t love me enough. And, of course, a bit later, because sleeping with one person for any length of time brought up that nasty word “commitment”. I couldn’t say exactly how many people told me that most women end up marrying men like their fathers, but it was enough to fuel the fire for quite awhile - better to be safe and dip out in the middle of the night carrying your panties in your purse, than be sorry and have all your hard earned money and your gold wedding band spent on the crack rock.

The sad truth about all of my sexual encounters in the beginning was that they were unremarkable. I accept partial blame for those first however-many-we’re-talking-about-here, because I didn’t know any better and I didn’t care. Sure there were small moments here and there when something was “ah’ight” or “felt kinda nice”, but in general it was just a whirlwind of who really gives a fuck?

Did I tell the guys or my friends that? Absolutely not. Sex was totally awesome and shit. Me? I came all the time. Yep.

The one exception was oral sex. Though I didn’t enjoy receiving it at all, I enjoyed giving it quite a bit. In the beginning because it meant I wasn’t required to demonstrate just how much I was enjoying his sexual prowess and later because of that old ego booster – power. Being good at anything can be a welcome rush. Being good at giving head, having a man bigger and stronger than you trembling under your mouth and your touch, well, it’s twice as welcome.

It was unfortunate that my very first orgasm happened with one of the most revolting men I’ve ever met in my life. My therapist would have taken one look at him and asked, “Is his middle name ‘I Told You So’? Or maybe ‘Predictable’?” He was blonde, lanky, and good looking, but clearly from the wrong side of the tracks. The sort of boy my grandmother would watch from her window with the cordless phone in her hand and a scowl on her face, whether he had a plausible reason for being there or not.

I was living with his brother and his brother’s girlfriend at the time and that was a whole new experience in and of itself (threesome number one, in fact), one I’m glad I don’t remember much of. One afternoon I needed to get some things from my parent’s house and decided to take Mr. Bad News with me. My mother was absolutely horrified. She pulled me aside and asked me all sorts of questions about him, most of which I didn’t know the answers to. “You’re going to regret it”, she said. And she was right, though not for the reasons she implied.

I regret it because I hate him. And I hate that the memory of my first really good bout of sex, the one with the big finish, if you will, belongs to him. The sleazy bastard.

But as much as I dislike the man that started it all, I can’t deny that it completely changed my sexual outlook. I went from giving in, to actually wanting it. And if I reached numbers that a woman my age really shouldn’t be reaching, well, I can blame that on him too. Because after the first orgasm, you’re always in search of the next one and the next one. And I found them, sporadically and in between some of the most horrific and amusing sexual encounters likely known to woman, but still, I found them.

The funny thing, though, about those horrific and amusing sexual encounters, is that I started to like them too. Even if I didn’t get the desired result, the story itself was almost as valuable. This has less to do with the sexual aspect of it all and more to do with my love of writing and/or making people laugh. I’m sure the male inspirations behind my stories wouldn’t be too thrilled with my logic, but hey, I didn’t fuck them for the story. That was just a bonus.

For instance, I doubt the Brazilian would be thrilled to know that I made fun of his child molester van and the way he said “I fuck you, yes” repeatedly. Though props must be given for introducing me to being slapped. Well done, Junior.

And I doubt The Shump Daddy would like everyone to know that he sweats more than should be humanly possible, and screams in the faces of the women he’s bestowing his penis upon...at warp speed.

No, I doubt they’d appreciate that at all. And neither, I’m sure, would my family. Which is why I suppose I’ll have to wait until the majority of them are dead before I publish a book entitled: Daddy Issues – How I fucked my way through my fucked up life and enjoyed almost all of it.

And I have enjoyed almost all of it, aside from the first few encounters when I was too young to be enjoying it anyway, though as most of you know I’ve slowed down considerably. Eight months and counting, goddamn it.

It’s frustrating, of course, missing out on one of the things I enjoy so much. But just like all those years of unimpressive practice, all those orgasms, all those clit stabbers, sweaters, and fetishists – being (not completely unwillingly) abstinent is a learning experience. I’m sure I’ll come off of this long stint of inactivity enriched by all the knowledge it’s created. Or, I’ll just accidentally kill the first man that gets there with my super human vagina that’s had eight months of kegels and relatively little else, and end up as a character on the Lifetime Movie Network. Either way I still get laid, so it’s a win.

I haven’t yet decided if I’m still afraid of commitment. It really just depends on what day it is and whether or not I’ve eaten breakfast. I have, however, decided that it’s ok to be a woman with an impressive list of past lovers, no matter what people say. It’s not really shameful if you aren’t ashamed. If I ever do settle down with a nice man, maybe I can teach him a thing or two. And if hell doesn’t freeze over, I’ll always have a valuable life skill.

********

Now that I’ve finally finished this meme it’s time to pass it on to seven more bloggers. But before I do, let me tell you this:

I thought choosing seven things I like and writing an entire post about each one was going to be cake. It wasn’t quite that way. I made a list of things to write about in the beginning and only two of them actually made the cut. For me, probably like most people, I never really thought beyond the basics of what it means to like something. I like cake because it tastes good or I like reading because it’s a welcome distraction. I realized that if I really wanted to test myself, I needed to approach things a little differently. So I did. Or rather, I tried to. Several of the posts were about things I hadn’t planned on sharing at all, but I think we all know that sometimes blogging takes us in directions we hadn’t before considered. I hope you enjoyed reading my seven things, as unorthodox as some of them were. And I really hope that the bloggers I’m about to name decide to continue this meme in the new tradition.

They don’t have to be seven things you like/love. If you choose to participate, you can do seven things you wish you knew back then, seven influences on your life, seven ways your mother in law tried to ruin your marriage, or seven things the neighbor does that makes you want to shank her in the ovaries. Whatever you want, it’s your choice.

All of these bloggers are favorites of mine and I look forward to seeing what, if anything, they come up with.

Baglady

Jerrod

Sara

Vegetable Assassin

Girl Interrupted

Ally

Didactic Pirate

Thank you. Come again.

24 comments:

The Vegetable Assassin said...

Well I must say, I've enjoyed every one of this series from you, but this one in particular might be my favourite because it's honest, it's amusing, it's truthful and it's you. Not that the others weren't, but this just is you being unapologetic for yourself which is admirable and exactly how it should be. Hell no, you shouldn't be ashamed of your "list" of lovers, they're who made you who you are or at least helped! And like you say, you'll never be short of writing material. And thanks for nominating me to do this now. I wonder if I can do it without sarcasm? I doubt it. In fact, sarcasm might be one of my seven. WHO KNOWS?

Mr London Street said...

This makes me look forward to the book(s) you undoubtedly have in you. It takes some confidence to throw away something as hilarious as your Brazilian amour in a mere paragraph of a post as good as this.

You have done a brilliant job of this series of seven posts - it's really shown just how much range you have (something I think might have surprised even you). I'm also looking forward to seeing how many of the bloggers you've named decide to pick up the baton.

Baglady said...

Damnit. Am going to get some purple sheets NOW. I think that is what is missing from my sex life.

I hope the Brazilian gets to read this one day :)

Right. How the f**k do I follow this?

Didactic Pirate said...

Oh, man. I've really enjoyed reading this list, and I'm SERIOUSLY intimidated by having to follow up with a list of my own. I doubt I'll do the task justice. I'll give it a shot, though, and keep you posted.

And I agree with Mr. London. If you write the book, I'll buy it. Just sayin'. As long as you promise to leave in all the dirty parts.

SaraLadner said...

Holy shit! I'm kind of scared to do it because I could never write as beautifully as you have in these past seven posts. But I like a challenge so I'm thinking I have to!

Usually when I'm reading a blog, I flip back and forth between a post and whatever else I'm doing. But the entire time I read your posts, I never get distracted by anything. It kind of feels like I'm actually there. This is getting way too worshippy, but I just adore the way you write.

And I would buy a book, too.

Jules said...

Ah, Judy Blume. I learned about sex from that book too. And quality is MUCH more important now too. GREAT list!

Amber said...

Loved reading your seven things! When can we send you something sweet in the mail? And for the eight months... whoa! I commend your will power and hope you have stock in duracell! Keep writing cause I can't wait to read that book someday.

Beta Dad said...

Well done! Put me down for a copy of your filthy book too.

Gorilla Bananas said...

Why did that awful man give you your first one? Did he push the right buttons or did it turn you on to be ravished by the rogue?

IT IS ALLY said...

Excellent series! And thank you for the tag. I'm going to do it, although probably not as thoroughly or as well as you.

Judearoo said...

'.. just another zit on the collective face of adolescence'. Best line ever. :)

jerrod said...

This is probably something you already know...but you are good. Really, really good. I'm always smiling after reading you. Whether it's from something hilarious, heartfelt or dare I say sweet... you are one of my favorites. Keep writing dear.. the mojo is back.

the eternal worrier: said...

Great post. I like the way all seven of your ideas were so different from each other.

joeygirl said...

Oh my god! I loved Forever! You just took me back.
I've been thinking a lot about sex lately - the lack of and/or the mediocre ways of it all. It depresses me. Never been in this situation & I'm seriously contemplating putting it on the shelf for a while.
We'll see what happens.

Philip said...

Great stuff. Really good writing. I always look forward to reading you and am never disappointed. You've moved up a notch. More please. Love these longer posts too.

BugginWord said...

You are so captivating. Raunchy and tender and brilliant all at once. Would you consider upping the list to 10 just so I can get a few more hits?

Lovely. All of them. Lovely.

Sarah said...

Found your blog by way of The Vegetable Assassin, and I'm glad I did. Because I may or may not have a GirlCrush on you at this point.

But not in a creepy way.

Obviously.

Adria said...

I'm a new follower, courtesy of Sara.

Big fan...going to have to backtrack and read more of your stuff! :)

JUST ME said...

You know, I LOVE sex. I really do. But being abstinent until I'm completely sure the memory isn't going to make me cringe later...it makes sex all the more better.

I'm done cringing at past lovers (<--hate that word. It's not even accurate. "Past Dudes Who I Had Sex With Once" is way better).

I miss it, and I have to fight the urge constantly...but bad sex just isn't worth it, you know?

Nicole said...

I found your blog from Sara and the 20sb chat. This is hilarious and wonderful and awesome and I am going to start following your blog because of it. That's my profound, meaningful comment for today.

SBG said...

wow! i found this thru sara and you are a great writer. :)

sarisweetlife.blogspot.com

Eric said...

Great series! I was worried you were going to pick 'pbj' or something for the seventh installment, but you did not disappoint.

The mad woman behind the blog said...

The visual you described of sex at 15, PRICELESS!

I'm with you. The experiences, good or bad, make us who we are and if those experiences involve ahem, a sizable number of men (and or women) so be it. Party on! I know my um, VAST experience taught me life lessons no preacher, parent or girl friend could have taught me.

You've of course inspired more posts on my blog where I'm gonna have to talk about sex. Its shameless, this thing you do. And I love you for it.

I can't wait to read the chronicles of the super human vagina.

Sorry I took so long to get around to showing you some comment love.

Maryx said...

I LOVE this post!! One of the best of the series surely! =) Thank you for sharing all that with us, all 7 of the series. Awesome writing, as always. You are one of the bloggers that I like to take my time in reading. And at the end... I don't know what to comment 'cause no comment will do your posts justice. I guess that's why I end up commenting short and sweet when I do, I'm almost speechless. (I say this all in the LEAST most ass-kissing way by the way) Hahahahahahaha!

TAKE CARE sweetie