Sex

I like that, instead of an annoying captcha to screen for spam bots, you have to look for the most recent active word on the home page. I like it even more, because the word I had to enter was "sex," which is highly appropriate for an erotica writer and sexual education advocate. And the color I picked is called azul, which means I will have to eventually use the phrase Azul Sex for a band name or a story title.

Sex.
I’ve been reflecting on sex a lot recently…
I am not an incredibly sexual person, and can be fairly reserved in my own experience despite how readily I support open sexuality in others.
However, despite my prudent nature, I am undeniably and increasingly drawn to the act of loving someone in this way, if I feel committed to them.
Maybe the best way I can ever hope to describe it, is through the analogy of religion.
To so vulnerably share the home in which I dwell, is not easy for me. This temple has been vandalized before… But I long for the fellowship.
To allow someone to brush their lips and fingers along my bare flesh, to let down my guard and give in to the response of my own body- the goosebumps, the sounds that escape my lips, the involuntary arch of my back…feels naked in a much deeper sense of the word.
To open my heart, my arms, my legs, the inside of my body? With the risk of being hurt or devalued? It reminds me of walking into a church, hoping that I find God and not some pastors condemnation.
To crawl into their arms and love their body with all that I have, to pour myself into them with the hopes that what I give can be enough to convey their significance to me… feels like a pleading prayer.
The movement of our bodies and the disinhibited release we find, feels like baptism.
For me, maybe sex is as much a spiritual experience as it is a physical one.
I am not a very sexual person, but when I have found a holy dwelling built between our bodies, I want nothing more than to come home to it… To find eternity there.
So, if I give you my body, please let me love you down to the core of my being. Let me show you my devotion with every moan like a song of praise. Let me come undone beneath the power you hold over me, simply by loving me. Let me worship in the house we build, made of tangled limbs and dancing tongues.

Thought retracted. I don't think I should have posted something like that in my then mental state, now I just want to keep understanding where my needs are taking me and simply accept it. It doesn't need to be anyone else's concern what I want to get into unless I make it their business.

Above all, it goes like this:

My body.
My rules.
No one else's.

S-E-X...Sex....it's that simple. Like most, I place far too much significance on it than need be. Basic mechanics, in/out/in/out, nothing more. If/when we invoke our emotions into it is where issues can breed. Love,lust,like,hurt,pain....they have no business marring a perfectly natural&pleasurable experience. Whether it's the nerves beforehand or the regret afterward, Sex should be forever thought of as...one simple act...that's it.

I've fucked so many people I have only a vague idea of my "number." Thank god for condoms.

I've fucked so many people, I actually found myself skimming the recently-posted numbered account of someone's sexual history, just in case I was in there.

I still might be.

It happened in an instant of escalating sadness, and it ended with a familiar lie.

My first was a co-worker in a factory I was at. I'd like to think she was genuinely interested in me since she seemed to hang around me alot, but in the end she found out that I was a 25 year old virgin and wanted to break me. (Granted, sex for me wasn't really a thing back then because I just didn't care if it happened or not.) We had a slow day at work and got sent home, so she drove me back to my place and we watched Young Guns and ate Pizza King. She got me to give her a back massage which she kept leading my hands down further and further and we wound up on my bed less than an hour later. I remember it being nothing like I had thought it would be and it was over far quicker than I imagined it would be. We had another day off a couple days later and did it again, this time it was everything I had heard about it. The sweat and the smell and the feeling and that climax together at the end. It was amazing. We saw each other and had sex everywhere and when we could for another couple of months until she decided to go back to her ex boyfriend. Three months after that, she called me up again and we decided to start dating. It turned into the longest relationship I ever had. During our 8 years together, I found she was bisexual and she brought many girls over to the house for her to have and share or for me to watch and play with, but not have sex with. (We left that decision to the other party most of the time and I agreed to it. I'm not going to argue over getting to watch two women have sex with each other.) We are now broken up. Long story.

My second was a girl that my first brought home. She was a fiery redhead who was very sensual and the best kisser I have met. After she and my ex had finished getting off, I decided to take a chance and leaned in and started kissing her on her neck. She reciprocated and started kissing me back. We kissed for more than ten minutes that night at one time. That's how good she was. That entire night, we all had sex with each other until the sun came up and we passed out from exhaustion. I woke the next morning with the two of them giving me a blowjob. That was the best night of sex I have ever had. We wound up pulling her into our relationship for over a year. The three of us all being a couple. We would sleep in the same bed and have sex all the time. I've never once had a bad memory of that year we had that triangle going. She left us later on to move back to her parent's because her mom had grown ill. I have always missed her.

My third was a friend of my second. She had just been kicked out of her house and was sleeping on the couch of their place. Somewhere along the line my second and her started having sex together and they were talking to my first about a threesome between them and the possibility of a foursome between us all. She approached me one day while everyone was out of the house and we ended up in bed. She wasn't the best at sex. Mostly just laid there and took it. She had huge tits, though. 44DD if I remember correctly. It didn't go over with the other two well because I wasn't supposed to have her like that without their permission and it caused her to have to leave. I get the feeling there were other factors involved there, but it was never quite clear enough.

My forth was another girl my first had brought home. She came in towards the end of the relationship. She was all of 18 years old when she was with us. Had never been with a couple before and was shy of women. It turned my ex off that I was able to pleasure her more than she was. So it ended up being me and her having sex multiple times while my ex watched. We still talk to this day and we still have sex every now and then when she comes into town.

Number 5 was my rebound after my first and I split up. It was a one-nighter that started as a completely drunken make-out session at the bar and ended up at her place. She was a fire-cracker in bed. Very flexible and knew how to use her body. Only wish I could remember alot more of it than I do. Never saw her or talked to her again after that.

My sixth was a co-worker. She stated to me one day that she would like to come over and I said yes. We talked for awhile before she jumped on me. She was a great girl in bed. We had sex many time after that.

Number 7 was another co-worker who was taking a break from her relationship. She was a very sweet and innocent girl at work and it blew my mind to hear her text me about sex one night. I ran with it to see what she would say and she started coming over to hang out. We finally got to the point where we could start kissing and fooling around, but she never wanted to take it that next step. Finally one day she did. She was an incredibly sensual person who loved to touch and be touched, as I would expect from her knowing how sweet she is at work, yet when we had sex she became a whole new creature that cussed and screamed. It really turned me on. She went back to her relationship, but we both like to joke with each other about our times together and we've been better friends because of it ever since.

Number eight was a good friend that invited me over one night. We had some drinks and watched a movie and ended up having sex. We did it one other night after that. I've never understood what happened with that situation, but since then she has grown more and more apart from me as a friend. I was trying to see if could become more than just friends before we did have sex, and she told me she wasn't interested in that, but I always wonder if that had something to do with it.

Number nine was a girl from Indianapolis I had met online. She is an amazing woman that I am still talking to. The only thing that keeps us from becoming more is the distance between us. She is a very sensual and sexy black woman who I had a great night with only once. I've been trying to get back down to her to have another night like that, but she has been busy alot. I'm beginning to think she isn't interested anymore. Again, the distance between us...

My tenth was another woman I met online. She lives in Marion and invited me up for a night. I didn't know what to expect. We went to a bar where she goes alot and hung out and drank. As she got more drunk, she started becoming wilder and wilder. She took me home and stripped me down and we had ravenous sex. I feel bad because while it was awesome and wild sex, it just wasn't what I was wanting, so I never got off the way I wanted to. There was always something in the back of my head telling me it wasn't right or something wasn't working. I ended up staying in Marion the next night for some reason and I could tell she knew I wasn't comfortable, so she gave me a blowjob when we got home and said she wouldn't feel so bad if we didn't have sex again. We fell asleep and halfway through the night my sexomnia kicked in and we had the most amazing sex of those two nights. I still do not know what was holding me back that first night and I still cannot pull whatever dream I was having when I started getting her worked up that second night, but I was glad that it did. I would have felt bad if I would have left and she would have been unsatisfied that whole weekend.

...and there you go.

Was wanting to say something entirely different with this topic until I started reading other people's thoughts on it...now I'm thinking of making up my own list of sexual misconducts....

The first time was everything I'd hoped for and happened in the early stages of a growing friendship. He was the epitome of a cool older guy to me, and for many months I had taken slight offense to his flirting because I didn't think I had a chance. He was my first real kiss, who evolved in a short time to the first guy I fooled around with. He was always sweet and considerate, especially the first time we had proper sex, and continually made sure that I was comfortable with everything going on. When his cock first slid into me, he asked if it hurt. It did, but I liked it, so I said no. I knew that I couldn't hope for him to be my boyfriend, and I didn't have any delusions that giving him my virginity would change that. It just meant the world to me to be so close with him, to feel so wanted, and to truly have all of him for a while. Walking was uncomfortable for a few days and provided an aching reminder of the fun I'd had, like the muscle pain you have for a few days after a good workout. We had sex many times after that over the course of many years and a relationship, and each time left me with a feeling of being totally satisfied with a physical connection to someone I love. I've heard often that girls end up hating the first guy they have sex with. I was lucky enough to give it up to the guy that ended up being my best friend.

The second time was with another close friend. We were both shy and awkward about it, him moreso than me. Weeks of sharing a bed and bags of wine led to kissing, and kissing led to fooling around. I ended up initiating most of our physical contact. We shared a life devoid of money and full of the drama that surrounded us, and our sex reflected a mutual release. We never said we loved each other, though in retrospect I suspect that we did. The first time we had sex instead of fooling around was the first time he took initiative and followed a long, emotional day for me. The times he took the lead are still some of my favorite sexual memories.

The third was a one night stand. I'd known him a few years prior, and he was back in town for a little while. He was sweet and persistent, despite my initial lack of interest. After a week of failed attempts at getting intimate with me, I ended up fucking him in the back seat of his car. It was fun until he said he loved me, at which point I promptly panicked and wrapped things up as quickly as i could. I felt guilty and avoided him for the rest of the time he was in town.

The fourth was kind of a friend and supposed to be a one night stand. When I invited him over, I was uncertain whether I wanted casual sex or not. But as he started expressing interest, I so enjoyed the attention that I decided to go for it. He fucked like he had something to prove, and his insistence on leaving immediately after made me feel like he'd presented a challenge. After many more encounters, I won the challenge and got him to stay the night. Morning sex was awesome. The relationship that evolved afterward was hit and miss.

The fifth was an old friend that I'd been spending more time with. He stayed the night, and we made out while watching some movie that neither of us paid attention to. He asked at each junction if I was okay with what was happening, what I wanted, and what he could do better. Despite the sweetness, it was awkward, and it made our friendship uncomfortable afterward. The snuggling was nice.

So last night I had a really weird, really intense sexy dream about a friend of mine I only see about once a year. I hope I've forgotten about it by the next time I see him cause I'm going to be all awkward otherwise.

My sexual experience is still pretty limited compared to most of you, I'll assume... But I think I've had sex enough times now to be confident in saying this:

I don't think I actually find sex physically pleasurable.

I can find the act enjoyable when I make a game of it, and try to make it the best experience I can for my partner...

And I appreciate someone willing to be naked and do sexy sexy things to me. I get excited by that and support it 100% :D

...But beyond that mental level, I don't really actually feel much of anything.

My first time I was pretty drunk so I thought the numb feeling was a side effect of that. But with my current girlfriend it's still the same. And I don't have the heart to tell her as I feel like she'd take it personally and think it's something wrong with her when I really don't think it is. Honestly I'd have to guess she's well above average in the sex-skillz department. And that makes it worse-- that despite the fact that she's incredibly attractive and putting in a lot of effort to do some damn sexy stuff to me-- I can barely feel it. I feel guilty about that.

I feel like I'm the only person ever who doesn't consider sex a precursor to a relationship. Does that make me weird? I feel like I'm destined to die alone.

I've decided to be celibate for the next few months. I don't know how far this will go. I love sex, I love holding someone until the morning, throughout the afternoon, feeling them, loving them...but it's a distraction. My ability to concentrate is limited by the consistent desire to enjoy the sexual company of others. With the close of a relationship, I have decided that it is time to take control and take care of myself.

The last time he (my ex boyfriend) was in town, we got drunk and went back to my apartment and it was better than ever before, the sex was just so amazing. The first time it was raw passion, almost violent in its shared desire. Then each time after it was more tender, connected, as if the love never left. He spent the whole 20 hours we were together telling me how much he loved me and enjoyed my company. I don't think we'll ever get back together, but those 20 hours of sex, love making, passion, tenderness and care are enough to sustain me for a while.

I haven't had sex in almost a month. I think it's a good start.

Fun facts about my limited experience with the world of sex:

1.) I have never made-out with anyone and not gotten them naked in less than an hour from that point. ...that would seem impressively pimp until you learn that i've only ever made-out with anyone 3 times. Basically I haven't really ever kissed anyone and NOT been naked with them within the same sitting...

2.) The one and only time I've ever had what most people would consider sex... the orgasm count was 7- 0. I was the 0. And I'm male, for the record...

There's several reasons and theories as to how/why that happened, but I enjoy the mystery of the fact as-is so I'll leave it be.

re: the ilikeyou thoughtword...

It saddens me that so much of what people think of is about sex that every time something's not about sex, people feel the need to specifically point that out.

D:

runs back to asexy forums

Is it weird that one of the most appealing things about the notion of having sex with her is that the post-coital cuddling will be that much more fulfilling?

Always on my mind, I can never get enough. Seems I'm near-constantly wet and horny for weeks on end, it drives me crazy sometimes. Sometimes even vanilla won't cut it, I want it deliciously kinky and it's all I can think about.

Sometimes I wonder if there are prostitutes who do it not because they can't do anything else, but because they enjoy it. I feel like I would, sometimes.

I'm not quite there yet, but I'm on the verge of it....

I'm on the verge of deciding that honestly, I don't enjoy sex. I must be the one dude who would rather not stick his dick in anyone but his own right hand.

There's one part about sex I enjoy: I enjoy getting someone else off. I enjoy having that power over someone else.

But I'm pretty sure I don't like receiving. A.) It just means it'll be over faster so I can't keep doing the one part I do enjoy about it B.) There's all the pressure to keep it up which reduces some of the fun C.) Honestly, out of the admittedly limited sex experiences I have had? I do it to myself better.

Of course, if they were to actually start doing things better, it would violate points A and B. So the better the sex is, the least likely I am to look forward to it.

So yeah, I think I'm the rare dude who just doesn't want to fuck anyone. And not for religious reasons or anything. Although still mildly fun in the naughty entertainment sense, I find it overall more unenjoyable than I do enjoyable.

I hate this. I used to have problems just getting girls interested in me. Now that they are -this is what turns them away.

Sex is so taboo in society. it's a conflict: the most fundamental human instinct versus the expected conventional behavior. right now i don't know which side i'm on.

Anyway, you know that time after you lie down to go to sleep, but before you actually fall asleep...

The mind wanders. we think about how crappy our day was, and how crappy the next day will be. as long as i can remember i've fantasized about things that i would never do and things that could only happen in my imagination.

Lately i've been playing a game to pass the time before i fall asleep. i try to figure out which of my friends have had sex, which sounds really weird, right? but hear me out. it's really hard to predict such a hidden matter. i have some new friends, but i'm not close enough to most of them to know their past and their intimate lives. i suppose it's just an complex thought to try to wrap my head around when i'm bored.

the sex we have is amazing. i'm a whore for you. we have sex everytime we meet, and i dont even care. if anything i invite it. luckily this time you are my boyfriend. perhaps i'll keep this one. and you are the second person i've had sex with. why didnt i wait to meet you from the begining.

luckily i decided to live without regrets.

currently i love you. for more then the sex, too.

I love sex. I would say I'm addicted. And somehow, in a few instances, this has scared guys off. Being open sexually is important to me, and some people just can't handle it. I'm dominant in everyday life, but In bed I'm extremely submissive....Is that weird? I have a few fetishes. I like being tied up, I like pain being inflicted during sex (biting, slapping, being pushed around) and often find myself saying "Make it hurt". And then there's that one that I've only told 2 people that I've interacted sexually with. A rape fetish. The scenario (like role playing) turns me on majorly. The most out of all of them I'd say, and until recently, I haven't found anyone willing to comply. And I love it, but I already knew I would. I can't help but think that it's weird and maybe makes me a little crazy, but people have all kinds of kinks and that just happens to be mine. I'm enjoying the hell out of it. Fuck what "normal" people think.

the first time was violent. i've never known anger like the kind that lived in his hips, and i didn't understand it. i was too young. he was too much.

the second time was with a boy who had beautiful freckles and a jar full of opiates. one time we got caught in a freak rain storm in the woods by my house and took shelter in a bush and in each other while the river rose. i couldn't tell his tongue from the hot humid summer air.

number three lured me into his station wagon with a loaded pipe and french fries. one night we laid down, sock footed and flying, in the back of his car way out on the plains in the middle of nowhere. inside the garage was a party, but outside, the world was ours, and the lightning flickering on the horizon was just for us. i've never seen a night so beautiful in all of my life. he stopped calling when he went away to college.

number four took me out back during a smoke break, it took six minutes and was caught on camera. he was still bragging about it years later, when i ran into him at a new job. everyone heard about our one night stand. i was mortified.

it took me half an hour to remember who number five was. he fell fast and wrote me poetry. he reminded me why i always date "older men."

number six was the most beautiful boy i've ever known. we spent a month together in two week increments. he crawled into my bed at seven in the morning and fell asleep with his hands on my stomach humming stone temple pilots. i was his first. i broke his heart.

i had sex with number seven before i really wanted to, but i needed a distraction. we made love so often that i fell in love. we watched new age movies and fell into a heap on the couch, on his bed, on the arm chair, in the back of his car, sweating, swearing, lost. he hardly ever said a word to me, and i resented him for it.

number eight was to get back at number seven, and to prove to myself that people still wanted to fuck me. after the first time we slept together, he rolled over and told me he was a virgin. i panicked and ran out the door, in a figurative way.

number nine did a lot of cocaine and had long blonde hair and a tattoo of a cross on his shoulder and a broke down blue truck. he was everything i thought danger should be, and i paraded him around because all of my friends thought he was beautiful. he couldn't ever get it up because of the coke.

number ten bends to my fantasies, had the most beautiful penis i've ever seen, and a body like a mannequin. he thinks he's ugly. we find ourselves swept away often, pawing and panting, like adolescent animals or junkies looking for a fix. sometimes we make love... sometimes there's that anger i recognize, well hidden, deep seated, but there none the less.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m a freak. I generally actively seek out men that I think I may be able to have an relationship with. I know how that dating game works. You meet, you hang out for a while, then after you reach a certain level of familiarity with someone, you take them home with you and see how things will work one on one. You watch a movie, sit on the couch, then if everything seems to be working out well you do what the shampoo bottle says and repeat the one on one time for a few dates then eventually someone makes the hit that things should be moved to the bedroom. So there you are in all its awkward glory, having sex with someone new, and about 30 seconds before I know he’s going to make the move from fooling around to having sex, I don’t want to anymore, I’m not sure if that I’m scared, or nervous, what if he doesn’t think I’m good in the sack, what if he’s just using me, what if I’m really just using him? I don’t know, I can remember one time looking up and trying to lock eyes with a guy and then never being able to catch them, as if he was just refusing to look at me, not really wanting to see me in that moment. I’ve had sex, I’ve had the awkward fuck, I’ve made love, and every time I’m still slightly terrified. I turn into a shy little girl looking up at the guy begging with my eyes for some sign of approval, a sign I’ve never really gotten. Even when I was in a long term relationship (about 3years) I never really felt completely comfortable with him in bed. I really wonder why I can’t just throw my head back and give myself over the ecstasy that sex should be, but I guess I’m really just a little scared but I can‘t seem to figure out exactly why.

I'm starting to think that I'll never shake the nagging, instinctive sense of fear and helplessness associated with sex. It's especially frustrating since I almost constantly crave as much affection as I can get from the men I love.

Sex is bittersweet. In the case of people I'm attracted to, I'm probably the easiest person to arouse. Anything from the sound of their laugh, to an erotic touch, to intellectual conversation can have me instantly wanting to turn off the lights and be closer to them. But any sort of near intimate encounter with a person I'm not attracted to turns me into an instinctively unstable, violent person that I'm not fond of. I have, in my past, almost stabbed men in the kidneys for not heeding my whispered requests to be left alone. I have briefly lost consciousness at parties while drunkenly making out with a guy and nearly thrown him out a window upon regaining consciousness to find a hand sliding under my waistband. I almost always catch myself last minute, but not always before cutting people deeper than I really want to or twisting an arm more than I should. I don't really want to cut anyone at all, which is why I don't carry knives anymore. That's the least I can do to encourage myself to deal more rationally with such feelings.

I've had sex with two men, for both of whom I have a strong love founded in logical respect, appreciation, and pity. When I lost my virginity, I had no daydreams of him being "the one" and protecting me forever. I knew then that probability said that we would eventually drift apart, and I knew him well enough to know that any signs of possessiveness on my part would just make that happen faster. So I ignored the part of myself insisting that I couldn't be special to him unless I was his girlfriend, and I contented myself with "just friends".

A few months later I started sleeping with another amazing guy and became rapidly aware of the benefits I could reap from having no moral restrictions to keep me from loving two men equally.

And that's where I stand now, over a year later. I guess that basically what happened was my first two boyfriends happened to come along at the same time. But that's only partially relevant.

I'm not sure where to go with this line of thought and will probably rethink, rephrase, and expand later. For now, though, I will close with the comment that I hope to someday be able to have wonderful, passionate, loving sex without having the most vivid nightmares about the past and being half tempted to shrink away from a gentle touch.

Maybe someday I'll grow the balls to give an account of the nightmares.

we had sex four times in one night once, and each time felt as amazing as the last. i felt connected, improved. clear headed. in love. everything went beautifully.

and i can't believe that a day earlier i was thinking about breaking up with him.

...sex is love, in its own way. nothing demonstrates trust and understanding like worshiping each other's bodies, admitting feeling. the connection when you look at each other, and realize that no one will ever make you feel like this again.

i trust him. i love him. i fuck him. it makes sense, right?

Fuck you. Your name doesn't belong in my thoughts, asshole.

There's a guy on TV who reminds me of a guy I was with for a long time. Their bodies are crazy similar, they act the same.

I've been watching that TV show a lot, by renting the seasons, and now I'm having crazy sex dreams where I'm with a guy who goes back and forth between being the guy on the show, and my ex boyfriend.

Damnit.

Actually, I hate sex.

Sex... I'm surprised I'm the first to post here. Absolutely central to our functioning as a species. An undeniable constant distraction in our minds. Ever-present in Western media, especially advertising. The most commonly enjoyed activity in all of the world, next to eating and sleeping.

Personally, I love sex, in my limited experience with it, and love that it takes so many forms, flavors, and styles. Despite the fact that my interests generally only lie in vanilla (non-fetish) heterosexual sex, I have a profound respect for the diversity found in sexual practices all over the world, and even in your own neighborhood. I dated and off-and-on lived with a professional dominatrix for roughly half a year, and got a crash course in uncommon sexual practices, as well as the kinds of non-mainstream relationships that people can form. To the surprise of everyone that knew us then, our lovemaking took no kinky, fetishy forms in the bedroom. Perhaps if we had been together longer, it may have, but when we were just getting to know each other and exploring how to fulfill each other's needs, we only had straight, vanilla sex.

My current understanding of my own preferences is that I absolutely prefer the company of people in BDSM lifestyles (and I'll post a BDSM thought later to clarify what exactly I'm referring to there), but have no fetishes of my own, nor any strong inclination to engage in anything but standard sexual practices

Pecking. Holding. Pawing. Squeezing. Kissing. Petting. Stroking. Unclothing. Clawing. Licking. Biting. Scratching. Thrusting.

My first thought is that that makes me boring, but I suppose that there's no reason to fake having interests that I don't really have. My fetish friends will forgive me. And still, I get to have occasional fetish fun with friends and I have a blast, I just never feel a need for it. I suppose that's the secret to life, eh? Learning to enjoy yourself as much as possible without needing anything.

The best relationship ever is a casually sexual one with a close, dear, trusted friend. One that you know that you're never going to grow apart from, but there's no unhealthy possessiveness about the relationship. [Thought continued at poly]

Sex...

Trying to gauge her to determine what she wants out of tonight.

Debating whether or not to vocalize how disgusted I am by the girl proudly announcing that she intends to fuck me tonight.

Feeling shallow and ashamed that within a split second of meeting her, I'm plotting out in my mind the moves on the chess board that will get me into her bed to spend the whole night indulging in what a beautiful person she is until the sun rises over our sweat-soaked bodies and morning birds harmonize with our exhausted panting.

Remembering at the point of no return that thing she said that one time that pissed me right the fuck off.

Wondering why I'm still spending my energy on her and ejaculating as unenthusiastically as if I were filing my taxes.

Pausing in the middle of lovemaking to brush her hair back away from her face and spend a long moment soaking in every detail that I can of her perfection. I must have the silliest grin on my face... But it just makes me so happy to be this close to you. To be able to occupy the same space as you.

The aggravating awkwardness of the mechanical aspect of sex. Yes, we both want to spend all night having loud, wet, unashamedly wild, epic sex, but my penis is roughly twice the length of your vagina, and it's going to take some measuring tape and a calculator that can do trig to figure out how we're going to pull that off without hurting you.

I don't understand how you don't like having oral sex performed on you. I just look at your tattoos and want to run my hands all over your body and kiss them and make a line down your stomach with my tongue and make you make those noises that I love hearing, but nooo. You don't want people to go down on you. I just can't relate to that.

The imbalance of sex. Generally, guys take a more active role, and girls take a more passive role. This is partly cultural and largely mechanical. When a girl is on top (of me, anyway), it's usually awkward and my penis comes out every so often, forcing a pause before the sex can continue. When I'm on top, sex can continue uninterrupted for hours. I don't have a vagina, but I can only guess that it's hard to use one on top and gauge when the penis is about to slip out. Also, speaking just for myself, it seems like sexually pleasing a guy is very straightforward, whereas sexually pleasing a girl is like solving a fucking Rubik's cube. Any given girl may prefer that you stimulate either her nipples, clit, labia, or vagina, and possibly absolutely hate having any of the others touched. It's hard for guys to understand why it's not "all of the above" because for guys, their only sex organ is "all of the above". So once you've narrowed it down to which of the myriad of erogenous zones are fair game on your damsel of choice, you then have to determine how rough, how much lube, whether any kind of stimulation is okay or if she doesn't want your tongue, hands, fingers, penis, etc. involved, how deep, how many fingers, etc. And I'm not even getting into the complications of the menstrual cycle, how oral sex gets difficult once you've reached a certain amount of pubic hair, and those vaginas that condoms just disappear into like a magician's hat or something. All girls have to deal with is the penis. And it's pretty straightforward in what it wants. There's really no way to go wrong.

Well, let me correct myself. One time I did get a clumsy turbo-handjob that left me with a painful genital equivalent of rugburn, and another friend of mine confessed to getting an awkward and unpleasant handjob once, too. A comedian once said that a penis is like a car with manual transmission. No one knows how to work it as well as the owner, and when someone else tries, they usually end up just fucking it up. I think I'll have to agree that the finesse of a good handjob is hard to get down if you haven't actually had a penis, but that's still a far cry from the prerequisite master's degree in engineering that you're going to need to be Master of the Vag'.

Oh wait, balls. I suppose some girls have to juggle the dick-balls combo to please their respective mans. That's another thing I can't relate to. Mine are about as erogenous as my eyelids. For me, it just feels bizarre and unnecessary when they're manipulated. But for all I know, I might be in the minority here.

Sex...

I approach sex in two very different ways at the same time. I'd hate to ever have sex in an impersonal way with someone that I don't care about, and the sex that I have is almost always with friends that I've gotten to know and love. Nonetheless, when the actual act commences, my mind slips into a meditative, analytical mode. Yes, there's emotion there, but my engineering mentality combines with my desire to be selfless and tend to the needs of others and turns me into a sex robot, analyzing and correcting angles, rhythms, pressure, etc. several times a second to maximize my partner's perceived pleasure. Tantric meditation has taught me that wonderful trick of having an orgasm without ejaculating, and hence becoming multiorgasmic, and meditation in general has helped me come upon a better understanding of the functioning of the human body and a keener ability to pick up on what drives a particular girl crazy.

I suppose I've accomplished what I wanted. For most of my sexual partners, I've been commended as being good in bed (my last girlfriend flat-out told me that she would reconsider breaking up with me if I just promised to fuck her every day... I declined, and we broke up). But I wonder if I'm missing out on something. I'm very satisfied with how well I've learned to hone my focus and skills in sex, just like any other activity in life, but I feel like sex isn't something that should be treated like an engineering problem. It's not that I see my partner as an engineering problem (hardly), it's that I get caught up in wanting to please her so much that I distance myself emotionally from the act, so much so that I might as well just be playing a video game and controlling a character that's having sex. I focus and completely block out the sensation that I get from sex so that I won't get off before she wants me to, and I end up not really experiencing anything for myself. I don't regret that this is how I've operated, but I have a lingering suspicion that there's something wrong about it.