Sexual Quirks

We all have our little quirks when it comes to sex. Something that we do that isn't the most conventional or even acceptable in the intimate environment of the bedroom. Some people are into talking dirty, role-playing, bondage, S&M, furries/plushies, incorporating certain bodily fluids... I won't go into any more specifics, you get the idea.

Me? I'm a giggler.

I have this horrible habit of laughing uncontrollably in the middle of sex. I'm not really quite sure what it is that makes me act this way, but the best theory I could come up with traces back to my high school years.

My mother worked late and we had cable, and while I was home alone, I used to stay up late watching Skinemax.* I didn't watch it for any sexual reasons, I didn't find it to be a turn-on by any means. I just loved the ridiculous plots and horrible acting. To segue off, I'll recant a favorite Skinemax flick of mine. It was about a team of sexy scientists who discovered an alien plant that thrived off of the pheromones in the sweat produced by the fornication of humans. So the plant sent out pheromones of its own to promote sexual activity. And when all of the sexy scientits are exposed to the plant they all began fucking one another. Men and women, women and women, men and men, three ways, even the (sexy) janitor got in on the fun! The dialogue was hilariously projected and I don't know any movie that's ever made me laugh quite so hard. I can't remember the name of the movie, but if anyone out there knows, please inform me, otherwise the mystery will plague me.

I also worked in a library in high school, shelving books. I worked 4 hours shifts, but my actual work only took me about an hour to complete. With three hours to kill, I would typically hang out on the basement floor perusing the massive non-fiction seciton. And what section was the most interesting? The sex books! I was an introverted conservative girl, so I was curious. And the illustrations you find in these books? Also hilarious!

To get back on track to my current state, I'm pretty sure my childish takes on my limited sexual exposure growing up most likely accounts for my regrettable quirk I face in all present day bedroom romps.

I thought the laughter during sex wasn't a completely horrible thing. I'd always read in Cosmo that it was good to have a sense of humor about these things. And I was also a big fan of having an open dialogue between sexual partners. I guess what I hadn't really grasped was the filter I needed to incorporate before my openness and happy-go-lucky attitude crossed the lines of charmingly quirky to alarmingly inappropriate. I'd also managed to control my laughter to the occasional giggle, but I crossed a line the first time I ever went to bed with Dandy.

Granted, the first night we slept together was following the group dinner where we all got tanked and then went to the local dive bar to get even more hammered. I was a drunken mess that night, so I don't think that I should be held fully accountable for my lack of tact.

Prior to this night, I had been sort of coy and playing hard to get with Dandy. We'd made out a few times, but I had refused to let it get past those first base trysts in my car. I was trying to exercise some caution following the Rocky debacle. I thought it woud be better to delay the sleepovers, even platonic ones (platonic meaning, no sex because clearly when you've spent all night making out with someone you're interested in, the sleepover will never really be "platonic"), for fear of losing Dandy's respect.

Clearly with my alcohol intake, I threw caution to the wind that night. So, we went back to Dandy's house and stumbled into his room, making out and pawing at one another, tearing off clothes, being completely sloppy drunk all the while, I'm sure. As soon as we started having sex, I started laughing.

And laughing.

And laughing.

Laughing harder now.

Still laughing.

Dandy is still trying his hardest here to be sexy and manly and whatnot.

I answer back with laughter.

Uproarious laughter.

He finally asked what I was laughing at.

First, I said, between laughs, "Sex is funny."

Then, between more laughs and gasping for air, "And you made a funny face."

Still laughing, Dandy decided that this would be an appropriate time to give up trying and roll over and go to sleep. So we did.

The next morning, Dandy confessed that that had never happened to him before and he didn't quite know how to react. I tried to reassure him that I laugh all the time, and pointed out that it wasn't as bad as if I had cried. He conceded that that was true, and we stopped talking about it.

Then a few days later, I was out on the patio having a cigarette with his roommate when he asked me why I laughed non-stop during sex. Apparently, I had scarred Dandy for life. A few more of his friends asked me about it, and I couldn't really provide a satisfactory answer. I mean, I was drunk and I do think sex is funny, and it wasn't really a reflection on him or his skills, it was just a combination of several factors all jumbled in a girl's drunken mind.

I've since gotten better about laughing during sex, and since that one night with Dandy never had a time where I laughed constantly and without pause. I'll still chuckle occasionally because sometimes silly things happen or there's a funny noise, and you have to kind of laugh at it. You just also have to know when to control your laughter.

*For those of you unfamiliar with the term, Skinemax refers to the latenight softcore pornography you can find on Cinemax. God Bless it.

Waiting for the Call

I met a great guy on Friday night.

Is he tall, dark and skinny?

Well, he's definitely tall! He's over six feet. I wouldn't call him skinny, but he's thin. He's got some muscles, but I wouldn't call it an athletic build at all.

And he's blonde.

I've never gone for a blonde guy before.

But he's cute.

It was the perfect situation. I was out at the bar with two of my girlfriends, Blondie and Windy, and we met these two guys, Cute Guy and DJ. (I can't think of a decent nickname for Cute Guy yet -- time will tell -- but DJ is actually a DJ.)

Windy and DJ liked each other, so they spent much of the night together, culminating in kissing in the street as we waited for a cab. Cute Guy and I didn't so much as kiss, but it was rainy outside, so every now and then he would put his arms around me to shield me from the rain.

(Don't worry about Blondie -- a few weeks ago, she had met a guy of her own at the bar, so this worked out perfectly! We each met one guy!)

Windy had to get back to her place, so she got a cab first, and the rest of us got a separate cab. DJ was staying over with Cute Guy (unfortunately for Windy, DJ was visiting from out of state), and Blondie was staying over with me. In a twist of luck, Cute Guy lived pretty close to me! (He kept mentioning all night, "I can't believe you live so close to me.") Since Cute Guy was a shorter distance away, we decided to go to his place, and he'd drive us the rest of the way back.

Cute Guy has a dog.

I do not like animals, especially dogs.

I hope he didn't notice.

To be fair, the dog was friendly, and I guess one could say it was cute. Blondie thought so.

After a bit of time there, we headed back to my place and hung out for about an hour. We had to get up early the next day, so I apologized for being such a crappy host, and they left.

As I walked them out, I asked them if we were going to hang out again. They assured me that Windy had already invited them to her birthday celebration, set to take place this Saturday. Great. I don't remember if they asked for my number or if I offered it -- I wish I remembered!! -- but either way, Cute Guy put it in his phone.

That was Friday night.

It is now Monday night.

Is he going to call?!?!

The three-day waiting period has already passed!!

I thought that we got along great! He gave me a kiss on the cheek and hugged me before he left. When he was over, he sat next to me on the couch and leaned his head on my shoulder at one point. He held me in the rain. He seems to be into me.

Then why hasn't he called me yet?

I am so attracted to him. He's a manly man. He's not one of the usual dark, skinny, perfectly groomed guys that I usually like -- and I'm thrilled about it! Ooh, also, he used to be in the military. :-)

Okay. Back to waiting.

The World Series ended last night, and there were games on two of the past three nights since I've seen him. It was the Boston Red Sox vs. the Colorado Rockies, and if I'm not mistaken, I believe he's a Red Sox fan. Being a guy (and a manly man!) he must have watched them. That's probably a good reason why he didn't call me.

Now, here are a few other factors:

--Windy and DJ have each other's numbers
--Windy and DJ friended each other on Facebook
--Through Windy, I friended DJ on Facebook
--I found DJ's Myspace through Facebook
--I found Cute Guy's Facebook and Myspace profiles through DJ -- but they're both set to private

Since I don't have his number, I think I'm going to friend Cute Guy on Facebook tomorrow. I was going to yesterday, but Windy suggested waiting until tomorrow.

Thoughts???? What do I do now?!?!?!?! I really like this guy! I like him a lot more than most guys I meet!

Sexy Dream

I had an unexpectedly hot dream about Ryan the Temp from The Office last night.

He's nice-looking, but not THAT nice-looking, especially since he got the pube beard this season.
I dreamed that I was working with him, and it looked like area behind the house where I grew up. I was working downstairs, in the area where the back deck is, and every day, he wanted me to come up to the area where the patio is and give him a massage.

I didn't really want to, mostly because I was afraid that people would notice at work and I would get into trouble. But time went on, and I grew to enjoy it.

Before long, I was lying on some kind of bed, and he was on top of me, and we were dry humping like crazy. There was a dark red blanket covering us, and my arms were around him and my eyes were closed as I clung to him.

When I woke up, in that stage in between sleep and waking, I tried and tried and tried to cling onto that feeling. I tried too hard. It lost all meaning before long.

Still, though, it was nice.

Caught Between a Rock and a Dandelion

You would think that my mind would be made up. That there would be no contest between this sluttacious prick and the slightly awkward and bumbling, yet mysteriously charming, albeit goofy, guy. But as soon as Dandy began expressing an interest and we began hanging out a lot, wouldn't you know that Rocky came waltzing back into my life, eager to pick up right where we left off.

Suddenly, he began spouting off all of the pretty things that swayed me in the beginning. Except now he started using words like "girlfriend" and trying to be something he wasn't, making false promises that he thought I wanted to hear. Physically, I don't think he saw Dandy as competition, but he could see that emotionally, Rocky saw that Dandy was prepared to offer me something that he couldn't, and felt threatened by it. And despite his notched up belt, he seemed to be protective of his conquests.

The Rocky versus Dandy battle raged on in my heart and my mind for over a month. Who did I want more? The nice guy who had just sort of snuck up on me by being the support system I'd desired for months, or the one who I wanted but couldn't have, but now suddenly could? On paper it seemed so simple because one treated me well and the other didn't. But the fact was that had it not been for being spurned by Rocky, I probably wouldn't have taken an interest in Dandy. Hence, the predicament I found myself in.

It all came to a head when a large group of us, including Rocky and Dandy, decided to go out to dinner. Rocky sat next to me and spent the entire meal whispering sweet nothings about how beautiful I looked and meanwhile, Dandy was positioned directly across from me and kept joking and smiling and making kissing faces at me, until we both burst out laughing. The alcohol was going down like it was water and by the time the entrees rolled out on our 4 course dining extravaganza, I was hammered. After the conclusion of dinner, while we were waiting on dessert, I stumbled to the bathroom with my galpal and drunkenly lamented the situation I was in. I weighed the options about Rocky versus Dandy and how I needed to choose one of the other.

After talking it out for a while, I decided that Dandy was the right choice to make. He had been nothing but an upstanding, nice, decent guy, and the only reason why Rocky was entertaining the thought of picking things back up with me was because I was suddenly poised to be taken off the market. The simple and most obvious choice really, but matters of the heart are never quite so clear when it pertains to you... or when you've consumed copious amounts of alcohol.

I left the bathroom with a new perspective and a new mission. I turned a deaf ear to everything Rocky was saying to me and once we ate dessert and paid out, our group moved to the nearby dive bar that we loved and frequented often. After bouncing between the two guys, playing the flirtation game, I sauntered up to Dandy and began making out with him in the middle of the bar, approximately 5 feet away from Rocky. Tacky? Most definitely. But, in my defense, I was drunk and it was the only way I knew how to publicly make my decision. I went home with Dandy that night to begin yet another chapter in my life.

Growing Like a Weed

Dandy and I became closer and closer at work after that one night in the bar when he held me by the shoulders, looked me in the eye and told me that Rocky was a douchebag and I deserved better. He was always right there to offer me a helping hand with a smile and a compliment. He wasn't traditionally good looking, but he had that Southern charm going for him. He was always polite, with a laugh and a twinkle in his eye. And on a more shallow note, because he was considerably less attractive than me, he treated me like I was the most beautiful girl in the world.

At the end of the night at work, we'd be standing together polishing glassware until one night he finally mustered up the courage to invite me to hang out. It was like pulling teeth, naturally. For days, he simply stammered out the question of "What are you doing tonight, Carrie?" I'd tell him and he'd reply "Cool... cool." and that was it. Finally, I had enough of these timid tactics and said, "Nothing, what are you doing tonight Dandy? Maybe we should hang out."

It started with him buying me drink after drink in the bar, showering me with praise and compliments and telling me that he'd never met a girl like me. A northern girl with such wit and charm and a laid-back cool attitude. I was down-to-earth and chill, a badass cool girl. These were all his words. I'm a little conceited, but I assure you I'm not that narcissistic. The nights began with a few beers and cocktails and great conversation full of laughs and compliments and flirtations and ended with a drunken kiss here and there.

I told him about the McRugby saga, as well as the Rocky situation, and he in turn, opened up about his latest relationship. He had been dating a girl who was 6 years his junior and the difference in maturity levels was taking a toll. He said it was like dating a high schooler. I listened sympathetically as he told me how she was now going off to school an hour away and that he knew it was over. He said that he cared about her, maybe even loved her and that he still cares about her because she could bring him to his highest high. But in the same respect, her immaturity and selfish nature also would beat him down and bring him to his lowest low point. I marvelled at how being spurned by one asshole had led me right to this sweet southern gentleman. It felt like we were coming from very similar situations and after a few conversations, part of me couldn't help but wonder if fate had put us on near identical paths that would ultimately cross.

Strange Attraction

I am feeling an UNBELIEVABLE attraction to a guy I know. We had a bit of a thing this past winter. We didn't go very far, but it was really, really enjoyable. Unfortunately, it fizzled out -- or veered out of control, the way you look at it.

I'll be writing on that later.

First of all, his type is....different.

I have a type: tall, dark and skinny. And, of course, I like guys to be good-looking.

This guy is pretty good-looking. Not like a model or anything, but average-to-nice, and nice. As for my three specific criteria, two of these things he fulfills well. The other could not be FURTHER from the word.

Any guesses?

I just had the best orgasm of my life.

Yes, it was self-inflicted.

It's been about a year, and unfortunately, Sam Jones's life has been more than a tad lacking in the sex department. But today was incredible.

It was a lazy Sunday, I had nothing to do, and I had just taken a shower. I decided to relieve some of the amazing tension that had built up over the past few days over a certain love interest about whom I've been thinking. I'm coming up with a nickname for him as I write this.

It wasn't eventful or unusual to start with. I felt like I was about to have an orgasm, and it felt like one of those disappointing ones -- one when you definitely feel a climax -- the climb, the shudders, the climax -- and I wondered if that was REALLY it. After all, this felt like it was going to be a good one.

I was upset.

So I kept going.

It happened again -- an orgasm, and definitely an orgasm, but disappointing. But I was determined. I pushed (or rubbed, I guess) on.

And then it was unlike ANYTHING I have EVER, EVER felt. EVER.

It was the climb of the mountain again, but it was steeper, and deeper, and I felt myself getting to a level where I had never been before. I actually gasped out loud. I usually do everything silently, without moving much, but I had ABSOLUTELY NO CHOICE. I was nearly screaming.

It was incredible.

As I basked in the afterglow, I realized something:

Have I been doing it wrong all along?

Maybe this level existed all along and it wasn't an element of circumstance. Maybe I just never pushed it out.

I am SO looking forward to testing this theory later tonight.

Rocky and Oma-gross-a

Apparently I wasn't the only one that had become enamored with all of Rocky's charms. Oma-gross-a, a petite Spanish single mother with sagging breasts and a mouthful of horseteeth who bore a striking resemblance to Omarosa (of "The Apprentice" fame), but even uglier (if that's possible), had also taken notice.

Immediately following our sexcapades, Rocky did a complete 180. All interest in me had been lost. He wasn't the commitment type, I knew this. He'd already gotten what he'd wanted so he was moving on. I just was reluctant to let it go. People began to take note of his callous treatment of me (am I a glutton for punishment or what? Seriously where do I find these guys?)

He put up a wall. Cold and distant were the most apt adjectives to describe his interactions with me. And I sat by like a moonstruck moron watching him use the same lines he'd used on me to woo Oma-gross-a. I was still fairly new to "the Game" and aside from the Soldier, had never really encountered anyone with the cowboy attitude of Rocky. What I saw as the grounds for a new potential relationship, he regarded as nothing more than another notch in the belt. I have to take atleast some of the blame for the resulting mess because I had verbally agreed to a no-strings attached situation, despite what I wanted emotionally.

I would pretty much go out and make an ass of myself, mooning over Rocky only to be spurned and disrespected. One of the quieter guys at work, Dandy (short for Dandelion, on account of he always managed to land himself "in the weeds") was always there to tell me that Rocky was being a prick and to not get caught up in his bullshit and to realize I was too good for him and blah blah supportcakes.

Sniff Sniff.

Smell that state of vulnerability?

Yeaaaahhh, I think we all know what direction my life is headed in next...

"Oh! Rocky!"

I walked into work the next morning and was met with the laughter and teasing of both my trainers and co-workers alike. Thanks to one loudmouth, the word of mine and Rocky's against the wall indiscretions had spread throughout the workplace like wildfire. I am a modest girl by nature, so I felt a little embarassment, but I wasn't ashamed. I just held my head high and just thought of the previous night as being a step into the new direction that my life was about to take.

Don't get me wrong, I wasn't planning on being completely carefree and acting like a slut, for lack of a better word. I felt that I had been too conservative with my sex life up until this point and figured my libido could use a kickstart. It wasn't healthy to moon over the same assholes who time and time again stomped all over my heart and then manipulated me to letting them back into my life. I figured I could use a little more fun in my life and try casual dating, rather than strictly entering into monogomous relationships. I did not however, want a repeat of the Soldier incident, one that I find most regrettable now.

My new job was the best environment to launch the brand new me. It was the first catalyst to my social blossoming in a new locale. I'd never really attempted to enjoy the nightlife down here or meet new people, and once I stepped out, I found that I was actually quite the hot commodity. The attention I was getting from guys everywhere was unparalleled and I was loving every minute of it.

Although despite my new vow of keeping everything casual, I started to develope some feelings for Rocky. Aside from being easy on the eyes, he was always saying the right things. And while someone as intelligent as I would have normally been able to immediately see through this facade as complete bullshit, I was coming off of an extremely unhealthy correspondence with McRugby and those pretty words Rocky was feeding me was exactly what I wanted/needed to hear.

I knew from the first moment that I met him, that Rocky was a complete and total player. He was definitely going to end up playing the role of the Pool Boy at work. Part of me didn't care and figured I could get the instant gratification I needed, and the other part of me hoped, as most women do, that I could change his ways and turn him into the man I thought he should be.

In addition to my stealth pursuit of Rocky, the other men at work began to take notice of me. I felt like the Prom Queen at work. For years I'd been haunted by the giant caboose sitting atop of my legs, and despite the words of Sir Mix-A-Lot, I'd never been able to truly own and appreciate my fabulous ghetto booty. But having a butt is apparently all the rage down here. One of the guys still says to me on a nightly basis that I need to put that thang away.

But I digress.

So Rocky was not the commitment type. From the moment I met him I knew he was a flirt who just loved women and sex. We'd had discussions at length about what we wanted from one another (we decided on nothing (I was lying, because despite my new cool and casual facade, I was still deep down, all about relationships)), and reached a mutual understanding. But deep down, I hoped that things would evolve. I didn't sleep with him immediately, there was a period of coy courtship, but I finally succumbed. It was decent, good skills without major duration. I figured the next time might yield better results.

Only there wasn't going to be a next time.

Turning over a New Leaf

Midge flew into town as i was concluding the two week training period at my new job. It was different from any other establishment I'd ever worked in and as the days wore on, the group of employees grew closer and our urges to be sociable also grew. With just a few days to go, we decided that we should start hanging out after we got out of work.

Now in a social setting, I began to see my co-workers in a new light. Namely, I started to notice that some of the guys were very attractive. The one I deemed cutest had a girlfriend, so I moved on to other pursuits. I brought Midge out with me to point out Chubs, the stinky annoying guy I already detested, as well as Rocky, named for the striking similarities he bore to the title character in The Rocky Horror Picture Show. He was... a bit of a meathead, muscular, but not the most eloquent with words and, the major resemblance? He lacked a belly button. Seriously. When he was born, his organs were outside of his body and he has a scar when they were sewn back in, where the belly button would traditionally be found.

After consuming numerous alcoholic beverages and flirting with Rocky as well as a couple of other guys, I began discussing the fuckability of Rocky with Midge. We both agreed that I could use a rebound, one that actually lived in the same state as me. And before I knew it, I had Rocky pinned up against the wall of the club and was making out with him like our plane was going down in flames.

It didn't go past that, but that night left me rejuvenated with a new vigor. I didn't need McRugby any longer. There were plenty of other guys out there, and who knows? Maybe I'd just found one at my new job.

The End of the McRugby Era

Back home, the glow of my vacation wore off quickly when I was faced with a minor medical emergency of a potential miscarriage and a diagnosis of high-risk HPV. Stressed and terrified, I turned to my friends and McRugby for emotional support. I had no friends in my new home at the time and the situation at hand wasn't anything I was ready to discuss with my mother.

Considering that McRugby was a contributing factor the the current conundrum I found myself in, I expected him to be a pillar of strength and support, despite the distance between us following what I felt was a great visit. I was wrong. Overnight, the phone calls, e-mails and instant messages were never returned. I took the hint and learned that he was off screwing other girls at college. Nice. Furthermore, he blamed me for everything that had happened and lamented on what I did to him and the consequences it would have and the havoc it would wreak on his future sex life. Ass. Why worry about my possible cancer diagnosis when you can't slut around?

McRugby, who used to be a devout Mormon, was now all about the hard-partying college lifestyle. Drinking, drugs and casual sex were the courses he was most interested in, and while I do find strict religious ways to be trying, I was completely put off by this new carefree attitude.

I made a mistake by going back down that road with McRugby. I should have known better than to let myself be swayed by his charms when I was so vulnerable. I had just moved to a new place, away from most of my family and friends and was in an unfamiliar town with a new job I couldn't stand, and none of my close friends lived less than 1500 miles away. I'd never felt more alone than I did in the weeks following the unceremonious and final split from McRugby, but that time in my life did teach me about the strength I have within myself to deal with the trials and tribulations I will face in my life.

Thankfully, despite my newfound inner strength, one of my friends, Midge (named for her short stature) was between jobs and had recently broken up with her boyfriend, so she immediately booked a flight and planned to come down and visit me. I was also starting a new job, while trying to maintain my old one (where I had just been named Employee of the Month), so in spite of the dark place I felt I was in, I aso sensed a new chapter in my life was beginning.