Thursday, 11 September 2014

Sexual Misadventures in London - Part 2

This time the Samantha Jones inside me was out and determined to get down and dirty. My date played rugby and he was so enthusiastic over text I figured he'd probably be enthusiastic in bed too.

What I'm about to type is going to seem so hideously shallow and awful but I'm going to be honest. I knew as soon as I met him that we would not be having sex.
I'm not too clued up on these things but it was quickly apparent that he had some sort of difficulty - I would guess a mild autism or tourette's. He was so nervous that he spilled his beer on himself and when he hurried off to fix his jeans a couple of girls nearby laughed at him! I felt a sudden urge to defend the poor guy!

Once again I found myself in a state of moral panic: this guy was adorable and funny but I wasn't attracted to him - was I really that superficial that a twitch or stutter were instant turn-offs? On the other hand, I didn't want to sleep with him out of pity. He wouldn't want that either! The worst thought that passed my mind was: I'm wasting time on this guy when I could be having sex with someone better right now. I had a little moment of self-hatred for that one so I understand if you think I'm a bitch. 

I decided to stick with the date. I'd always firmly believed that physical appearance shouldn't matter and now it was time to put my money where my mouth was. We chatted away for a couple of hours and had a good laugh. Unfortunately I just didn't feel any spark between us - I think it was that classic (idiotic) you're not "bad boy" enough for what I need right now. At the end of the night I kissed him and promised that I would text him. It's been a week and I haven't... I decided the best thing to do was to treat him like any other guy I didn't want to see again. I'm not sure if this was right or just me being a coward...

Instead, I texted Adonis and asked if he still wanted to have that drink (i.e. do you still want to have sex?). His response was yes but it came too late: by that point I'd made pancakes and was watching Sex and the City in my pants (obviously). So I agreed to go over a few days later instead. 

My expectations for the sex date were simple: wear matching underwear, have awkward pre-coital conversation, bang (with any luck as he was older it would be above-average, but my hopes were low), have awkward post-coital conversation, sneak out while he was asleep, never speak again. I just typed "Classy, right?" and then realised that is just slut-shaming myself. No sluts here.

Once again, the dude surprised me. He cooked me steak - a man cooked me a perfect, delicious, medium-rare steak! That's what girlfriends do for guys, right? Then after that he put on a film and pulled me in for a cuddle as I made lame jokes about Christian Bale movie spin-offs (I won't make you suffer these too). Suddenly he kissed me and before I knew it we were tearing off clothes and I was carried to his bedroom.

Then he revealed that he didn't have any condoms! Who arranges a sex-date without condoms?! Not me, that's for sure; I had one in my bag because I am sensible and forward-thinking. I'm not sure how detailed and graphic to go from here but suffice to say he managed on the first try what has taken previous conquests (pahaha, I can't even type that seriously) several attempts and a fair few pointers. My only criticism was that apart from the odd "Oh baby..." he was completely silent. Like a sex ninja! Even at the end, not a noise. I worried if my first foray into casual sex had resulted in the mythical male fake-gasm... but evidence assured me otherwise.

After that, he wanted to cuddle again. But that's what girls like! I cried internally, utterly confused. I'm supposed to be the emotionally-attached one, you're meant to just fall asleep and forget I exist! But actually, now that I think about it, I've heard the "I just need human contact" line from guys before. Are they not as detached as they'd like us to believe? I let him cuddle me again and then I walked around his flat looking for my clothes that he'd flung everywhere.

(Do you ever think how crazy it is to be completely naked in front of someone? I remember being 13 and just absolutely mortified by the idea of even being seen in a bikini. Now other people have seen my body parts in closer detail than I ever will! Anyway...)

I'm not entirely sure why but I ended up walking home, in the rain, and crying the whole way. So melodramatic! I think it was partly because there was definitely no going back; my ex wouldn't even want to look at me now I'd been with someone else. What does this say about me and him and our relationship? Was I just a possession he didn't want to share? But I'd now shared myself had I spoiled myself? I felt like hugging my body and apologising to it for allowing someone else to use it. Even though I'd "got my kicks" and Adonis was a really nice guy, I felt like my body had been used. I showered and washed every inch of me when I got home because I wanted to remove any trace of what had happened. Why did I feel like this?

Casual sex is meant to feel empowering and be fun. I didn't feel either. I just felt like I wanted to be with someone who loved me. And I hated myself for feeling this - it felt weak.

A couple of days later, Adonis surprised me again by texting and asking if I wanted to meet up. Weren't guys supposed to forget about you once they'd got their leg over? It's what I had planned to do. I had accepted that I'd never hear from or see him again and I was fine with it.

I had 3 options: insist on a date and see where our relationship would go, just take the casual sex and nothing else, or break ties. At the beginning of the year all I'd wanted was a "fuck buddy" and it hadn't worked out. Now I had that chance again but I didn't want it. I was honest and told Adonis that I wasn't looking for anything regular and that was that. Again, I felt like our gender roles were flipped from what media told me they should be.

Now that some time has passed I don't regret the casual sex. It was something I needed to do and it has helped me move on. My heart is still a little bit cracked but my head knows I made the right decisions. 

What I have been thinking about is all the expectations around sex and dating. I had such a negative view of men and the belief that to be strong and independent I had to sleep around. I was wrong on both counts. Yeah, there are some assholes out there but not all men are predatory dick-heads. And as a single woman, you don't have to be a man-hating prude or an easy slut - you can just be you, no matter where you come on that scale. There shouldn't be any rules dictating what you should want and what you should feel. 

I might not be ready to sleep with a hundred random guys, but meeting and rediscovering the good things about the opposite sex feels like a step in the right direction. Boys are quite fun, after all.