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Abstract

ow the guy very well. When we both know we have a few hours in the hotel, it can get weird during his refractory period.</p><p id="0c2b">While I’m cool with a check of an email or replying to an urgent work message, immediately scrolling through their phone does nothing to impress me for Round 2. (<i>Yes, I realize I could just walk out and not have a Round 2. I’m still learning that I’m not obligated to have sex because I agreed to it.</i>)</p><p id="c72f">A guy who takes the time to chat and laugh in between romps doesn’t realize he’s engaging in foreplay. It takes the awkwardness away, puts me immediately at ease, and makes me want to stay closer in bed. When he’s ready for the second round, I’m right there with him.</p><h2 id="8f46">Safe sex matters</h2><p id="2e41">My high school years occurred during the peak of HIV pandemonium. MTV (<i>or in my case, MuchMusic in Canada</i>) boasted fluorescent ads touting the importance of condoms. Freddie Mercury and Real World’s Pedro Zamora died in that era. Everyone panicked.</p><p id="836a">Gonorrhea, syphilis, chlamydia, and other words requiring spellcheck still scare the shit out of me.</p><p id="9d94">I’m grateful for the guys who use condoms, no questions asked. I’m also grateful for the guys who would take the time to get an updated STD test before hooking up. Peace of mind goes a long way in making me cum during sex.</p><p id="9125">I’ve had men get sketchy after the fact. “Wait, you got tested…but you tell me <i>now</i> that you had bareback sex two days ago? That shit won’t show up on a test yet!”</p><p id="b993">Fun fact: I’ve learned that going to a gay male’s sex clinic near my work is the quickest way to get an HIV test. Waiting for the results is agonizing, even if my odds are remote. <b>My satisfaction with sex extends past intercourse and into my experience days after</b>. Getting a blood test because a guy was shady negates the pleasure gained from our sexual escapade.</p><h2 id="6b84">Post-coital bliss is important</h2><p id="aa85">Sex with my husband and I was transactional. Rarely ever finishing, we didn’t experience that warm fuzzy bonding from the release of oxytocin.</p><p id="c9f6">When I have sex with a guy, if we aren’t high-fiving each other for a job well-done, then I’m less likely to leave a good mental Yelp review. Even a quickie in the back of a car can create a moment of post-coital happiness; laughing and touching each other as we scramble to find our clothes is still a fun experience.</p><p id="2f0c">I learned intimacy after sex is important to me, even if it’s the smallest amount from sex with a stranger.</p><h2 id="9673">It has to be just him and I</h2><p id="55bf">It’s funny how an absent third person can still be present during sex between two people. I wrote about my crappy sexual escapades (read it <a href="https://readmedium.com/all-the-times-i-had-crappy-sex-fd933200a407">here</a>). One guy immediately prattled on about his model ex-girlfriend. While I don’t expect to marry the guy I just fucked, it’s taken me a long time to feel that I deserve to be the only female in the room getting all his attention when I’m the <i>only</i> female in the room.</p><p id="720c">It’s astonishing how many men never acknowledged anything positive about my body during sex. If a guy is doing somethin

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g right, I’ll let him know what part of his body brings me pleasure. I’ll let him know he’s doing a magnificent job. If I hear <i>nothing</i> then I’m going to think there’s something wrong with me. <b>It makes me feel like I’m not even there.</b></p><p id="cf91">Not all men are verbal during sex, I get that. I’m cool hearing after the fact that it was my body that brought him to cum.</p><p id="3e7f">I once fucked a guy who didn’t immediately pull out. We kissed a bit, talked a bit, and then he said in shock, “holy shit, I’m getting hard again. I’m getting hard <i>while I’m still in you</i>!” When we finished, he kept repeating, “Do you know how hot you are that I was able to get hard again while still in you from before? That has never happened!” Recognizing that his erection and subsequent satisfaction was from me as a person (<i>not an inanimate blow up doll</i>) made sex much more pleasurable.</p><p id="b0f1">I don’t need to feel like soul mates; I just want the guy to acknowledge that I was the female on the receiving end of his cock.</p><p id="2abd">I’m entering a new phase with my husband that will lead to either an open marriage or divorce. Either way, my cheating days are over. Despite my history, cheating isn’t who I am. It was a coping mechanism.</p><p id="d1f0">Those affairs taught me what I value in a sexual partner. It didn’t make a dent in my marital sex life, but I know what’s important to me with my future sexual adventures.</p><div id="1a48" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/there-is-a-missing-sex-toy-in-my-house-6cf8ed11b936"> <div> <div> <h2>There Is a Missing Sex Toy in My House</h2> <div><h3>A lesson in communication and vulnerability</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*3nXqKeo7jBmPr78D)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="aebb" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/for-men-blowjob-etiquette-fe3e6bc66ba2"> <div> <div> <h2>For men: blowjob etiquette</h2> <div><h3>Advice for a man to receive head like a gentleman, not a dick</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*mPRf9eDt0U0a4vmj)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><div id="c159" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/i-cant-masturbate-during-social-isolation-with-all-these-people-around-me-dcb4e1ceddf6"> <div> <div> <h2>I Can’t Masturbate During Social Isolation with All These People Around Me</h2> <div><h3>Coronavirus and family are major cockblockers</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/0*cip4j2FWs7lPjpEF)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div></article></body>

Affairs Taught Me What I Want in Love

It took doing the wrong thing to learn what’s right

Yes, I’ve cheated in my marriage. Yes, I’ve had affairs. Yes, I’m an asshole. I’ve had a dead bedroom for almost twenty years.

A good number of trysts were simple one or two night stands. A warm body with a cock attached to scratch a sexual itch. Sometimes I wanted a man to tell me I was still desirable after all the rejection I received at home. There were voids, physically and emotionally, that needed filling.

I would be remiss if I didn’t learn something from these experiences. Cheating isn’t comfortable for me and I dislike my lack of integrity. I’ve taken some time to think about these affairs and what I’ve learned about men.

Or, more specifically, what fucking almost two dozen men has taught me about love and sex.

Kindness matters

At some point when a boy turns into a man, when does he learn that acting like an aggressive brute makes him seem more manly? While I enjoy ultra rough sex, I don’t need him to continue the treatment when it’s done. Stop calling me your “whore” or “bitch” after the fact. Just chill.

I appreciate the men who were kind after the deed, despite the aggressive sexual acts beforehand. A great indicator of character is if he brings over a bottle of water while I’m laying dazed on the bed, unscrews the top, and hands it to me before drinking it himself. With all the guys who have cum on various parts of my body, only one got a towel and wiped it off after.

Showing kindness after sex makes the experience much better. I feel more like a desirable woman and less like a human glory hole.

Fragile men boost their egos

For all of humanity’s progress, the biological need for men to flaunt their plumage remains. So many one night stands wanted their egos stroked. Sex was a scorecard with my orgasms as their checkmarks. It wasn’t about my pleasure. It was about how good they were at pleasing me.

Instead of asking me if I enjoyed it, they’d tell me I enjoyed it. “You just loved that, didn’t you?” they’d boast. “I made you cum so much.” If I haven’t said anything and you have to remind me that I came, then that’s a bad sign.

Instead of being told that I’m satisfied, I’d rather be the one communicating my thoughts. And in return, I want to know about his experience without the bragging of his male prowess. When a guy compliments me after sex, it makes me feel like he connected with me instead of pounding away aimlessly at whatever’s under him.

It’s about us, not just him.

Humor is mandatory

After sex can be so, so awkward if you don’t know the guy very well. When we both know we have a few hours in the hotel, it can get weird during his refractory period.

While I’m cool with a check of an email or replying to an urgent work message, immediately scrolling through their phone does nothing to impress me for Round 2. (Yes, I realize I could just walk out and not have a Round 2. I’m still learning that I’m not obligated to have sex because I agreed to it.)

A guy who takes the time to chat and laugh in between romps doesn’t realize he’s engaging in foreplay. It takes the awkwardness away, puts me immediately at ease, and makes me want to stay closer in bed. When he’s ready for the second round, I’m right there with him.

Safe sex matters

My high school years occurred during the peak of HIV pandemonium. MTV (or in my case, MuchMusic in Canada) boasted fluorescent ads touting the importance of condoms. Freddie Mercury and Real World’s Pedro Zamora died in that era. Everyone panicked.

Gonorrhea, syphilis, chlamydia, and other words requiring spellcheck still scare the shit out of me.

I’m grateful for the guys who use condoms, no questions asked. I’m also grateful for the guys who would take the time to get an updated STD test before hooking up. Peace of mind goes a long way in making me cum during sex.

I’ve had men get sketchy after the fact. “Wait, you got tested…but you tell me now that you had bareback sex two days ago? That shit won’t show up on a test yet!”

Fun fact: I’ve learned that going to a gay male’s sex clinic near my work is the quickest way to get an HIV test. Waiting for the results is agonizing, even if my odds are remote. My satisfaction with sex extends past intercourse and into my experience days after. Getting a blood test because a guy was shady negates the pleasure gained from our sexual escapade.

Post-coital bliss is important

Sex with my husband and I was transactional. Rarely ever finishing, we didn’t experience that warm fuzzy bonding from the release of oxytocin.

When I have sex with a guy, if we aren’t high-fiving each other for a job well-done, then I’m less likely to leave a good mental Yelp review. Even a quickie in the back of a car can create a moment of post-coital happiness; laughing and touching each other as we scramble to find our clothes is still a fun experience.

I learned intimacy after sex is important to me, even if it’s the smallest amount from sex with a stranger.

It has to be just him and I

It’s funny how an absent third person can still be present during sex between two people. I wrote about my crappy sexual escapades (read it here). One guy immediately prattled on about his model ex-girlfriend. While I don’t expect to marry the guy I just fucked, it’s taken me a long time to feel that I deserve to be the only female in the room getting all his attention when I’m the only female in the room.

It’s astonishing how many men never acknowledged anything positive about my body during sex. If a guy is doing something right, I’ll let him know what part of his body brings me pleasure. I’ll let him know he’s doing a magnificent job. If I hear nothing then I’m going to think there’s something wrong with me. It makes me feel like I’m not even there.

Not all men are verbal during sex, I get that. I’m cool hearing after the fact that it was my body that brought him to cum.

I once fucked a guy who didn’t immediately pull out. We kissed a bit, talked a bit, and then he said in shock, “holy shit, I’m getting hard again. I’m getting hard while I’m still in you!” When we finished, he kept repeating, “Do you know how hot you are that I was able to get hard again while still in you from before? That has never happened!” Recognizing that his erection and subsequent satisfaction was from me as a person (not an inanimate blow up doll) made sex much more pleasurable.

I don’t need to feel like soul mates; I just want the guy to acknowledge that I was the female on the receiving end of his cock.

I’m entering a new phase with my husband that will lead to either an open marriage or divorce. Either way, my cheating days are over. Despite my history, cheating isn’t who I am. It was a coping mechanism.

Those affairs taught me what I value in a sexual partner. It didn’t make a dent in my marital sex life, but I know what’s important to me with my future sexual adventures.