Unblog

It has been ten days since I last posted, and that post hardly logged any activity. So I am seriously behind.

Off the top of my head, what do I remember? A night at the Astor with D, preceded by some activity in the afternoon and evening, and succeeded by a morning's worth of fucking too. A Thursday morning in my apartment with Q - thoroughly delightful. Some more time with D at the Kew. I have seen F a few times, Q once more, D even more than usual thanks to her need to use up accumulated off days before the year expires. J I visited just once. So plenty of sex, and all of it good. All of it excellent, in fact. Yet each woman is distinct, peculiar, discrete, particular.

At some crude and cursory level of description, fucking D is like fucking Q - a cock, a cunt, penetration, thrusting, grinding, orgasms, sweat. Sex that is going on only at this level of attention and awareness - porn sex - is barely worth getting out of bed for, and whether you have this kind of sex with one person or many does not really seem to matter. The only reason to be discontented with a sex-life built around this kind of sex is if you don't get enough, whatever the hell 'enough' means. I don't get any sex like that at all, and don't want any. To me, fucking D is no more like fucking Q than talking to D is like talking to Q - and that they are very different to talk to anyone would agree who knew them both (though I doubt that there is in fact anyone besides me in that category). Have I had a lot of sex in the last two weeks? Yes. A fuck of a lot. But the quantitative question, and its answer, misses almost everything. So, then, does this post.

Vacation

I am on vacation, not from sex but from adulterous sex. Since leaving home I have had only a little action, but it has been pleasant enough: a good, bedtime fuck with C, with her coming long and hard and me not coming at all, as I was a little too drunk. The next day, a handjob for me - C compensating for my not having come the night before. And the day after, a surprising, impromptu fuck in the shower: C bending over and bracing herself against the wall while I entered her from behind, grasped her hips, and brought myself quite swiftly to a nice orgasm inside her.

Before leaving to join C I had a couple of days with considerable freedom of action, and so saw F twice, spent midnight to six in the morning with D at a nearby hotel, and also had a drive-by with D. It was reminiscent of last summer, when C was away a lot. Last summer, of course, A was a regular and I had not yet met F.

Once this vacation is over - not for four or five days yet - I will try to get some serious fucking done with D and F, and I also hope to slot a little time with A in too. A would in fact be my first choice, if I had to make a choice, as I think sex with A is more complete somehow - or being with her stimulates me in more ways than being with either F or D. I am, however, very fond of D at this point.

My previous post about bad sex has piqued my interest. I wonder if I am capable of having bad sex at this point? I am surely quite capable of failing to do a good job, not being able to get it up or keep it up, or whatever. And I suppose it could happen that the sex was generally a failure. But I am not sure that would make it bad sex - for sex to be bad, I think it has to leave one feeling that doing it was a mistake. And I have not felt that, or anything like that, for a long time - and certainly not because of anything that is connected with the sexual acts themselves. To be granted the pleasure of a woman's body, to give her access to my own body, to put skin against skin, to taste her cunt, smell her, see her and touch her: I find it hard to imagine experiencing this and then regretting it.

I am curious also whether I could learn to feel this way about men. I have had bad sex with men - dishonest, selfish, mean-spirited sex that was merely scratching an itch; no delight in the other for their physical otherness. I think I would enjoy being with a man in the way that I am when I am with a woman, but I am not sure quite how to set about this. It deserves some serious consideration.

The worst sex I ever had

I was asked, 'What was the worst sex you ever had?'

A difficult question. Set aside sex with whores, some of which really was terrible but some of which was a lot of fun and also very friendly. Set aside also sex with men, which is complicated - at least in my case. Then the answer is probably occasional sex that I had while drunk and depressed in my mid- or late-twenties. Sex that was no good because I was driven by my depression, but incapacitated by my drunkenness. Those were also episodes in which I was in some way dishonest, trying to get my cock inside someone who I was not willing to deal with as a person entire.

Here we are edging around the interesting topic of casual sex. Back then, before Craigslist and the internet and all the wonders that enables, casual sex was a trickier matter. But there were a couple of occasions at least when the model of casual sex worked very well: a barmaid who I ended up spending a lovely afternoon with, and on another occasion a young woman who, I confess, was probably more enamoured of me than I was of her, but who was anyway accustomed (or so I believe) to the idea of casual, one-off sexual encounters.

In general, though, I think it is true that sex is better for being less casual. At the group sex fiasco in Chelsea last summer, I could barely get it up at all, and that has tended to be true when I am trying to fuck someone who I neither know nor care to know. I think that, in my twenties, there were times when I felt as if I ought to be about the business of fucking women when I could, and not caring to get to know them. Casual sex meant fucking without knowing whom one fucked. That now seems to me exactly wrong, for it is really only possible to be casual and uncommitted with someone whom one knows and trusts, or at least someone whom one is in the business of getting to know, and coming to trust.

I have wandered from the topic of the worst sex I ever had. Most of the sex I had with my first serious college girlfriend was not, looking back, all that good. She did not come easily, I came very easily and quickly, so most sex was not satisfying for either of us. MRR, love of my life, was a revelation after that - a woman who wanted to fuck as much as I did, and who came easily and frequently from fucking. She remains - I saw her on a trip to England last year - amazingly the same utterly desirable woman.

I think most of the bad sex I have had has been my fault, and the result of dishonesty on my part. Sex is about encountering another person, and that is not something that can be done usefully under false pretenses. But honesty and openness are not the same, and I do think good sex can happen with a lot being hidden.

These days, I can usually get it up and keep it up, so sex is not crap for that kind of reason. With C I come quite quickly, though usually either at the same time as her if we are fucking, or else afterwards. Sex with her is good, sex with D, F, and A is amazing, wonderful, magnificent. I have no bad sex, and really have not had bad sex for years and years, except at the Chelsea orgy. That may mean that I have low standards. But it may also mean that I know have to have a good time with a girl, whether or not I know how to give a girl a good time.