It was the most sex I've ever had in a 36-hour period.
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I met Michael at a yearly festival and we had sex in the back of his station wagon parked in the middle of a big field with the back door open to the stars and the night. I felt like such an American girl. We talked a few times after that but I never saw him again and I never learned his last name. I was 26.
Seven months later I met the Celt. He was a few years younger than me, a pagan bohemian romantic, uncut and very sexually open. For a year and a half we explored some light BDSM and had sex in any way possible and in every place we could think of. He wanted to get married but I knew that he didn’t have his shit together enough to make that work. We remained friends even after he married someone else and I just had drinks with him last month.
Another yearly festival where I met this round Samoan boy with shark’s teeth tattooed on his chest. He called his dick “Little Elvis.” I hardly knew him and I only had sex with him because the Blacksmith wasn’t there.
He had a girlfriend but they were in an alleged open relationship wherein he slept with other people and she pretended to be okay with it. For a year and a half we talked on the phone for hours every week and had sex as often as he could sneak away. Our sex never had a lot of range or interesting qualities but it was explosive from the secrecy and sneaking around. I fell for him really hard and wanted to be with him openly so I finally told him it was her or me. He said, “It’s not that simple.”
The Body Builder
Post breakup with the Blacksmith, all I wanted from the Body Builder was a hook up but on our first date he told me that he was separated from his wife, looking for a girlfriend, and he wasn’t interested in a fling. I was still in serial monogamy mode so I thought I’d give him a go and we dated for a year while he went through a difficult divorce. He had a great body and was very attentive but the sex between us was never great and I quickly became completely uninterested. I finally extricated myself and felt a huge sense of relief.
The Blacksmith again
When I received notice that I’d gotten into grad school I thought, “I should call the Blacksmith and tell him.” And so it all started up again. He was still with his girlfriend but this time he actually broke up with her. We dated for four years during which time our sex life went from good to terrible. He was very distressed about it but I didn’t want to have sex with him and I didn’t know why. In retrospect, I think I never forgave him for choosing his girlfriend over me the first time around. After four years, we went through the ugliest break up I ever hope to endure, the aftermath of which lasted a full year until I moved out of town. However, we eventually started speaking again and now we talk once a year on our birthdays, which are a day apart.
A South African actor who came to town with a touring show. I went to Simba’s apartment the night I broke up with the Blacksmith and we had rowdy athletic sex on the red couch in his living room. His show went to Denver the next week and I followed him out there. After a weekend together he stopped taking my calls and I never saw him or spoke to him again. He was the first black man I ever had sex with.
Austin31 was a dancer/acrobat who toured with Simba. He friended me on MySpace (remember Myspace?) and one day sent me a long strangely written email, told me it was encoded with a separate message, and I’d have to break the code. Inside the first letter was a completely filthy and glorious second letter about all the sexy things he thought we should do together. I flew to Austin to spend a weekend with him and had the most sex I’d ever had in a 36 hour period. He could come and stay hard. It was incredible. For the next six years we hooked up whenever geography allowed and we’re still friends now.
A musician most notable for the time we smoked a lot of pot and had a lot of sex in Central Park. I shudder to think what might have happened had we gotten caught, but we didn’t. He was intense and unpredictable with sexual predilections that included having his nipples bitten hard and only wanting sex doggy style or with my legs over my head. Sex with him was work and after a few encounters I decided we were better off friends, which we still are.
A surgical resident I met at the gym. The first time we had sex was nothing to tell stories about but the next time he revealed that he wanted a girl to fuck him with a strap on and how did I feel about that? I was fascinated, so he brought out his big black strap on and put it on me and I fucked him with it. It was awkward and vulnerable and thrilling and hot. Afterwards I felt like the world shifted on its axis a couple of degrees. For the last seven years we’ve seen each other occasionally. He always takes care of me then I fuck him and every time I’m amazed at how quickly it makes him come. Nothing ended our relationship but we text a lot less now than we used to.
A tall tattooed Bahamian stagehand I met backstage while I was on tour. He’d just gotten out of a long relationship, I wasn’t looking for anything serious and the sex was fun. He had a kinky side and liked to be spanked, which was enjoyable, but he was a 24-hour stoner, which always made me wonder what he was avoiding. I stayed on tour and we saw each other a few more times but at a certain point he wanted exclusivity and I wasn’t in that space for that so we stopped talking.
My best friend’s brother’s best friend. One night we had drinks and ended up making out in the parking lot. The next time I saw him we had sex, which was only okay, but over the subsequent six years we’ve had a long running sexy picture exchange. That man has more naked pictures of me than anyone else. Recently, however, he’s decided to get serious with his girlfriend so I cut off the sexty texting. We’re still friends but we don’t talk all that often.
The Celt’s older brother and a Special Forces soldier. Years after I dated the Celt, Ajax friended me on Myspace. (I know, again with Myspace) and we flirted by IM for months. I was headed to Thailand and somehow he finagled vacation time so we met up in Bangkok for an epic tour of Southeast Asia. We went to sex shows, got sudsies, had sex in dance clubs, and generally tore it up for three weeks. He liked water sports so I explored that kinky fetish and discovered that while I don’t mind peeing on someone or having them pee on me, it’s not something I want to do every time I have sex.
We met on a Caribbean island off the coast of Honduras. He was scary smart, charming, good looking, and a widow. The week after I met him I knew I’d marry him if he asked me. He once drove 1,200 miles to see me on my day off and another time rented a yacht so we could sail around the Solent. He was the king of the grand gesture. It was the most romantic relationship I’d ever been in except the sex was always puzzling. He couldn’t/didn’t want to/wouldn’t let himself come with me and in the months we dated, he orgasmed only four times. We broke up in Australia when he decided he wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. It took me years to get over him.
You know those people you meet where there’s instant chemistry and the flirting is intense and sexual and every time they touch you it feels warm all over your body and you just know that the sex is going to be mind blowing, but then you actually go to bed and you’re like “What the hell is happening here?” Because it’s all awkward and you can’t find a rhythm and nothing they do is working for you. Then they’re like “we should do that again” and you’re like “uh, probably not”? It was like that.
An Egyptian/Puerto Rican working as a tutor with whom I broke a nine-month dry spell. He was pretty and the sex was fun because I hadn’t had any in so long, but it was the kind of sex you have with a young pretty person where you realize that they have no idea how great sex can actually be. We don’t live in the same town and I got tired of answering texts that just said “hey” so we stopped talking.
The Brit was my instructor when I trained as a dive master. He had blue eyes, a pierced tongue, and a history of criminal tendencies. After a week of talking about sex, we finally ended up in bed, and for the next five weeks, the sex was amazing and continuous. We’d have hours of sex, wake up a couple hours later to have more sex, sleep a few hours, wake up, and have a quickie or two, and run down the beach to work at the dive shop. I never got tired of him and we never slept together without fucking. It ended when we both left the island to go work other jobs so now we email and sext. I expect I’ll see him again at some point.
Adorable, young, really good with his tongue, and one of the biggest penises I’ve ever seen but it didn’t completely click for me. We sext and he’s expressed interest in a repeat, but I haven’t decided if I want to have sex with him again. He is cute though.
Tall and tattooed with a big beard and a curly handlebar mustache. Months of flirting followed by a couple weeks of great sex that fizzled when I suspected he had lots of secrets and more than one girl on the side. He’s the kind of guy it’s more fun to flirt with than to be with because he only wants the things he doesn’t have. We’re currently back to flirting with no sex but we’re on tour together for the next 3 months so I guess nothing’s really over until it’s over.