Sex. It’s my absolute favourite topic of conversation. I mean why don’t people talk about it more? Sex is what links us to our cavemen ancestors. It can turn a well spoken businessman into a drooling imbecile. It can turn a sane, modern woman into a 1950’s housewife. I mean what one of us hasn’t experienced that type of orgasm that makes you release ‘that sound’ from your lips. You know the sound. That noise you’ve only ever made by yourself. Well odds are someone out there made you make that sound, and odds are you turned into a crazy person because you know how rare an event that is. However like everything in life what comes up must inevitably come down. And it does…hard. It crashes down on you like bad karma. Like all that great sex you’ve had is just preparing you for the dry spell, the bad sex with a stranger, the bad sex with a new boyfriend, or the awkward time you tried to hook up with a friend. I mean after we lose our virginities we think this has to get better right? And for a time it does. It get so good you think ‘Finally I understand the hype!’ Except that ends as well. The hype dies down and you begin to encounter men who have obviously never been taught what it means to actually pleasure a woman.
The worst sexual encounter of my life occurred on a date. Yes it was the first date and yes I slept with him, who the f**k cares these days! Anyway we went out for drinks and dinner in Melbourne’s CBD and it was lovely. He was cute, funny and had amazing arms. Am I right ladies this guy sounds like a winner, yeah? NO. WRONG. I couldn’t have been more wrong. We ended up at his house after the date to “watch a movie”, who the f**k are we kidding? Beyond high school are we ever “watching a movie” alone with someone we’re attracted to? The movie was… well it had Ryan Reynolds in it that’s all I remember. At first we began kissing, it was ok kind of off in rhythm but we can work on these things yeah? Well how wrong I was, I look back at that naive girl and laugh with my head back like Karen Walker, as if to say ‘you poor innocent thing, if he can’t kiss then he’s a miss.’ I continued kissing him in the vain hope of attempting to teach him something. Well what turned out to be a small kiss quickly turned into an experience I hadn’t encountered since I was 16. In short I felt as though my mouth was being devoured by his, his tongue seemed to be everywhere and his hands gripped at me like I was the first woman he’d ever kissed. This soon took a turn for the worse. We undressed quickly and so began the foreplay. I have to say this should act a public service announcement to all men “PLEASE DO NOT TWEEK MY BOOBS AS THOUGH THEY’RE KNOBS ON A STEREO.” At what point did men think it was ok to squeeze you so hard you’re sure something came out? This should have been my second warning sign. The next warning sign was all too obvious, however I ploughed on. When a man actually goes down on you without the pretence of a blow job you hold onto that man like you’ve found a goddamn unicorn. Well I quickly wished to release that unicorn when he got very lost along the way to c-town. By your twenties I feel everyone should know where all the important body parts are on the opposite sex. I mean for gods sake its a clitorus not Atlantis, it shouldn’t be that hard to find. However I pressed onward in search of the elusive orgasm.
I want to pretence the next scene by saying I have no ideal dick size. If you use it right there should be no reason I can’t enjoy it. However with that said, my experience with this dick was a drop below bad. When a small man can’t use it or doesn’t try then it will never be enjoyable for me. And when you avoid even trying to match my rhythm then f**k you. P.S, going faster doesn’t make me finish quicker or get me wetter, it makes me chafe. So there I was lying on his bed faking a few moans in the hope of making him finish faster. I know by now you’re probably thinking I could’ve done more to spice up this awkward scene, but the truth is sex is either good, slightly awkward, or so unbelievably awkward and terrible that it can ruin even the best of dates. And when sex is that awful do we really want to stick around and try to make it better just so we can say “I’m dating someone”? Are we becoming so incapable of being alone that we’re willing to date someone we have absolutely no sexual chemistry with? My answer would be no. I’d rather wait a decade or two for the right person than attempt to turn something into ‘a thing’ because I don’t want to attend that party alone again.
In short don’t ignore those horrible sexual encounters. Don’t avoid talking about them. No, tell all your girlfriends what happened. Laugh about it and write it off as a learning curve. Look back on it as a moment in your single girl life where you awoke. It was an absolute f***ing awakening to the fact that you’re not willing to compromise your own sexual pleasure or physical needs just so you can say “I have a boyfriend”. Look back on it as a feminist movement, or a gender equality rally, you stood up for your own libido and won. You didn’t compromise the o-moment just for the brief pleasure of ticking the plus one box.