My sex life, or rather lack of one, has become the center of attention amongst my friends these days – so much so that I was gifted a vibrating dildo at this past weekend’s epic surprise birthday party – batteries not included. I am eternally grateful for my closest friends’ concern for my womanly needs though I have repeatedly made it firmly known that hijacking my cell phone at 2am and sexting a male friend within the inner circle is simply not a good idea. I have learned the hard way that casual sex is just not my specialty, no matter how horny I may find myself.
I certainly wish I could sleep around without involving my emotions or worrying about how others may think of me. I wish I could call one of my closest male friends up and say, “Hey, wanna fuck?” But I’m simply too passionate and sensitive to maintain such restrictive, in my opinion, boundaries. There is undoubtedly something empowering about the ability to engage in such frivolous, uninvolved safe sex and I have achieved this feat…once.
Shortly after David and I separated, I felt this juvenile need to engage in a one-night-stand of sorts so what better place to find a participant than a bar? I met a guy, I self-assuredly placed my hand on his leg and I told him I wanted him right then in that moment. There were introductions and lots of pointless chitchat prior to my declaration but for sake of getting to the point, sex is exactly what we had that night. This “one-night-stand” turned into a few nights of never sleep over, aimless, fun, just casual sex. It ended shortly after the psycho ex-girlfriend reappeared and went through his phone, screaming, “Who’s Lindsay?!” prior to physically abusing him and trashing his one bedroom apartment. Truth be told, I think this guy got a sick thrill from the whole situation. Exit, Lindsay.
These past couple of months, a very charming and striking friend of mine who I have known for several years made his attraction to me very well known and I happened to share in these sentiments. I decided that casual sex might be more successful with someone whom I already felt close to, whom I felt secure and comfortable around – you know the whole cliché “friends with benefits?” And it was good – it was really, really good – The kind of good where it just seemed like your bodies were supposed to do this together and that, together. We excitedly continued our rendezvous on a few occasions, remaining very open and honest with one another. It was thrilling, at first, as I confidently tapped into my alluring, inner sex goddess! What happened, you may be wondering. Well, emotions infiltrated our early morning sexcapades and the condom broke one night. Enter, Plan B – literally and figuratively.
The icing on that fat cake is that I haven’t seen my friend since and I’ve barely heard a peep from him. Quite frankly, it pisses me off and it hurts and there are those sticky emotions again. I’m adult enough to not carry a grudge, though, so I’ll get over it. I’ve come to realize, and not for lack of trying, that I’m just not equipped for that kind of relationship. I’m okay with that. For the time being, I’ll just stock up on batteries and live vicariously through my few friends who are seasoned professionals in the complex art of casual sex.