The Magic Of The One Night Stand

Welcome to Jezebel After Midnight, in which we indulge in sexy sex talk.
Not all one night stands are magic. Many are drunk decisions, some are "the hell with it" choices, a few are regrettable ideas. But it seems like everyone has a story of that one incredible time, when all the stars aligned. The partner was hot, the sex was awesome, and in the morning (or immediately following the encounter) he (or she) evaporated, into the ether, to live on as a legend and myth, but never to actually, you know, be seen in daylight. That's the ideal ONS. One Night Stand. No strings, no awkward feelings, no constant reminders. The perfect ONS can't possibly be with someone you work with, and then have to avoid making eye contact with in the hall near your cube. A great ONS doesn't live in your neighborhood, unless you want to be reminded of being fucked up, down and sideways every time you're trying to buy conditioner and toilet paper.

My most memorable Ideal One Night Stand happened in London. I was there for work; he was a model working as the door guy at the clubby bar inside the hotel. He was very tall, very handsome, had very large hands and very long fingers, and was incredibly generous. Without getting too specific, I don't even think he took his pants off… It was all about me and my orgasm(s). When he left my hotel room several hours after arriving, I was blissfully spent. Then I left town with a lurid and wonderful tale to tell, and zero relationship drama. There's something titillating about feeling that initial, burning spark of attraction and just going with it. Moving from undressing someone with your eyes to undressing him with your hands. Partly because we do it so rarely. Partly because there's a thrill in instant gratification. Partly because the act of reaching out and touching a stranger feels forbidden. But I've already said too much. Am I the only one who's had the chance to experience an IONS?