Together, Right Now, Over Me.

It apparently comes as a surprise to many people when I tell them that I haven’t actually had much sex.

Maybe it’s because I’m open and comfortable with my sexuality, that I carry no shame for my desires and never apologize for being a sexual creature.  Maybe it’s something to do with people seeing me as “used to be a guy” and equate “being a guy” with “automatically gets laid anytime.”  Whatever the reason, people seem quite shocked when my answer to “what’s your favorite position” or “do you like [insert sex activity here] more than [insert other sex activity here]” is something along the lines of “Well, I can’t tell you for sure, since I haven’t ever tried much of anything…”

So, I haven’t had much sex (with other people, that is — as Woody Allen quipped, “It’s sex with someone I love!”) Here’s the other bit, the thing that’s frustrating, the point of this post: I’m the only person who has ever made me come.  Just me and Miss Right Hand, my steady girl most of the time.  Sure, there have been other people present while I bring myself to orgasm; I spent nearly 6 months with my psycho ex (see this post for more about her) and there were plenty of times when, after servicing her, she held me as I jacked myself off… hell, even when she was trying to get pregnant she’d scoop up my semen and finger-fuck herself (yes, it was totally hot — I won’t lie) but I was the one who got myself off.

The grand total of two times that I’ve had any sort of sexual encounter with a cis woman, I still took care of my own orgasm; the first one at least, she was interested — eager, even — to see that I was cared for, but I was nervous and tense and had a hard time communicating what worked and what didn’t.  That was the closest I’ve come (pun intended) to having someone else involved, and with her hand over mine as I worked myself, it was certainly beautiful… but it was certainly still me doing it.  The second time, several months ago, neither of us were really prepared.  Nobody had any lube, and I need plenty because otherwise it’s painful for me… we finally figured out something, but again it was me laying back and fap-fap-fap.

It still seems weird when I get the startled look from people, even good friends, when they hear me repeat that my actual experience having sex has been very limited, that most of my likes and dislikes are hypothetical rather than practical.  I would think it no stranger than saying that I love all kinds of food, but my actual experience in eating a variety of world cuisine has been limited… I don’t know.

Regardless — if there are any ladies out there, anyone who’d like to have some fun… let’s sing with the Beatles, and “Come Together!”  Yeah? Maybe? ~sigh~… Someday.

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