I like sex a lot. There, I've said it. I have had my moments in life when I thought that I ought not to like it that much, when I was embarrassed by how much I like it, when I've blushed when a dude has said something along the lines of "Wow, you seem to have a lot more fun than most women." I've been a serial monogamist; the girl that doesn't want to do it on the first date; the girl who wants to do it on the first date but won't; and at some point I thankfully graduated to being a woman who has sex when I want to have sex with a given person who is equally willing. Also, I got off the Pill, got my heart broken a bunch, realized I might not actually "find" someone permanent, stopped judging myself and turned 30, and between all of that my libido kind of went through the roof. Last night, I complained to Anna that, having recently ended a thing with a guy, I was already feeling the weight of the dry spell. Yeah, it's been a whole ten days since I had sex and I'm complaining that this is a dry spell. Let's all join me after the jump to wonder what's wrong with me.
First, I guess I have to wonder whether this is a function of not knowing when, where or from whom the next sexing is coming. I mean, one of the great things about having a thing with a guy (yes, I'm deliberately not calling it "a relationship") is that it's coming on a pretty regular basis from someone whose company I additionally really enjoy. Generally speaking, I think that a thing/relationship should involve sex at least twice a week and preferably more, if only because if it's an only-on-the-weekend (or, God forbid, only-once-a-weekend) type thing, I get kind of overly horny during the week and start to wonder about the when/where/from whom question. I badly express that to just about every single guy I date by sounding like I'm nervous about if and when I'm going to see the guy rather than saying "get your ass over here and fuck me" partly because it turns out that the latter is actually not that effective and asking and not receiving is rather damaging to the ego. But, given that I'm equally desirous of (and worried about getting) more sex regardless of my status rules out the whole theory that it's related to the end of the most recent thing, while writing about it made me realize I should just explain to dudes that they need to put out more to keep my libido from turning me into a raging psycho. Dodai was right about blogs being almost as good as therapy...
If that's not it, I can always go back to my old insecurity about being "too" slutty, or a nympho or something, since that's easy enough to point to. Women aren't supposed to like sex this much (Tracie knows), they're not supposed to get all on edge over not having it for a relatively short period of time, I could just masturbate, etc. Well, I do masturbate, regularly. I have a great vibrator that I bought on a business trip in New Orleans almost 6 years ago that is virtually unbreakable (I left mine at home and was going crazy) and a big enough supply of batteries but, hell, I masturbate more when I'm having sex regularly.
And, although I don't want to brag, I do really, really, really — multiple-ly orgasmically — enjoy sex. If everyone could guarantee, barring complete incompetence on the part of the other person, at least a handful of orgasms every time they had sex, wouldn't a lot of people have sex more? That's my theory anyway. But, in fear once, I asked my super non-judgmental (and still single, ladies!) ex-boyfriend if he thought there was something wrong with me. He said that actual sex-addicts and nymphomaniacs are considered problematic not because they have a lot or want a lot of sex, but because they screw up important things in their life to do so. While I'll admit to some poor man choices in my time, none of my sex decisions have been life-altering (yay condoms, birth control pills, morning after pills, and my IUD!) and the worst thing that's ever happened is I've been later for things like class, work or social obligations than I otherwise might have been. Of course, he just had sex with a girl who kept asking him in an incredibly high-pitched voice — he compared it to the Progressive commercial girl — to high five her after every orgasm, so he might not be the best source on what's normal. Either way, though, I don't think there's something wrong with me that a little sex wouldn't fix.
All of this angst, though, begs the question as to how long my longest dry spell has ever been. Yeah, um, it's something on the order of 6 weeks, at least since about 2000 when I went about 10. Even in the midst of my major depressions and life crises I've still wanted to have sex if only because it chemically forces me to feel good and it's only thing I can do (including drinking) that shuts off my inner monologue. So it's not like I think there's not some sex coming down the pike for me, it's just I want it, and I want it now. Or at least before I have to buy another multipack of batteries.
But, I understand, one woman's annoying dry spell is another woman's preferred method of living. So what's your longest dry spell, and why (or how) did you hold out that long? If it keeps me from wearing out my batteries, you're not just helping me out, you're helping to save the environment.