The Ties That Bind

Some people think that once you’ve slept with someone else, that changes things. That you can never be the same around them before.

Personally, I’ve found that really bad sex makes it a little easier to be “normal” around someone else — if I’ve had really bad sex with someone (and the odds are so far working in that direction), it’s easier for me to treat them the same as I always have… although I might occasionally snicker to myself. I’m petty that way.

Of course, I’m not 100% convinced that guys always notice it’s bad, and not because I fake it, either. I don’t believe in faking it. I think a friend of mine had a point when he said: If someone’s having bad sex, they shouldn’t fake it. Instead, they should pick up the phone and call someone — a mother or father, for example — and, during the act, hold a conversation with that person. The conversation would go something like: “Hey Mom, what are you doing? Me? I’m doing nothing.” Apparently something like that would tend to get the point across, at least in his opinion.

But in my experience, if the sex has been that bad, I’m not terribly interested in going back for it — unless I’m really into the person and willing to work on it. After all, first times together are rarely perfect.

But what about months or years later, when the two of you have (theoretically) more experience under your belts? Don’t you sometimes wish that you could go back and show that person what it is that you’ve learned since? Maybe redeem yourself, if you suspected that it wasn’t very good? Or if nothing else, show off a little?

I’ve had one experience of revisited sex, at least where much time had elapsed. In that case, about a year had passed, and while neither of us were really displaying new tricks, the overall event was pretty decent. It makes me smile to myself to see him now, knowing that no one else knows what transpired between us, but other than that, I am as normal around him as I ever was.

There are other people in my past that I still see every now and then, and I guess because the experience wasn’t one that touched me emotionally, it doesn’t have any hold over me. I can see those people and I’m not missing the naked “fun” that transpired, and I’m not wanting a repeat. It’s when there was that emotional tie in there that I do wind up longing, or missing something.

Sometimes it’s the sex that I miss; admittedly, if it was good sex, I will miss it. I’m not so proud that I can’t admit that. But usually it’s the closeness that we shared: the smiles, the laughs, the in-jokes, the stupid moments that were only funny then and may never really be funny again. Sometimes I even miss the bad times, ’cause they were all a part of that whole.

Maybe I’m just feeling emotionally unfulfilled lately, but I find it’s that closeness that I had that I mourn and miss. Sex just doesn’t have the same power over me, and that’s a part of why I’ve had a hard time updating this site lately, I think. I’ve been exposed to too many people for whom sex is currently a primary focus and obsession, and that, more than anything, has kinda turned me off discussing the subject in great depth. For neglecting my readers, I apologize; it’s simply been a strange time for me lately. I promise to devote my brain to matters of sex more often and see if I can’t entertain you in the near future.

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