He is capable of having sex without developing feelings for someone.
Apparently there are many people like that.
I am not one of them.
I have such a difficult time understanding and participating in that concept.
In an era where sex is on par with a handshake, I still hold to the belief that it is special.
My sex is not something I want to give to just anyone.
Maybe that makes me a hopeless romantic and a bit naïve to the majority of common societal thought.
“Just get yours” seems to be a popular sentiment.
Hey if it works for you, more power to you.
I’m not judging.
It just doesn’t work that way for me.
I’m all for “getting mine” but not without a genuine emotional connection.
That’s just how I work.
I feel that sex was meant as a physical manifestation of the deep emotional connection two people have for each other.
I think that over time, quantity has become the main goal, with sex becoming like a mass production of a rare original painting.
When I have sex, my heart and soul are in it.
I am possessed completely by the one I’m with.
It’s deep, connecting, intimate, and exciting.
I’m adventurous and enthusiastic, playing out all my fantasies in bed, desperate to please the other person because I know they feel the same way about me.
(Side note, my fantasies are fucking hot! Read my other stuff, it a fraction of what I’ve got).
That’s the kind of sex I like to have.
I’ve thought about “just going for it”.
This guy, we have enough sexual tension between us to start a fire.
But I hardly know anything about him.
I don’t even know if I like him, really.
Sure I fantasize about him, we even talk naughty over the phone or through texts, but I stop short of actually meeting up with him.
I want to, and I would, but my reasons are in order to get to know him.
His reasons are in order to get to know my body.
At least that’s how he feels right now.
(There’s a whole story behind this sentence, one I may write about in a later post).
I’m sure it would be fun, explosive even.
At least at first.
But I know I will get invested.
And I don’t want to fight that instinct just because that’s what other people say I should do in order to have fun.
I will start to fall because love and sex go hand in hand for me.
That’s something I will not risk.
I’ve had enough heartache in my life to pass around to a shit load of people, I do not need to willingly fuck up my heart some more.
I hold what I have to give close, I don’t share it freely.
I guard it because it’s precious.
This is how I am and I’m not ashamed of it.
And if he can’t see that, then he can go fuck himself.
Because he won’t be fucking me.
*This post is dedicated to Mr. Freaky.
Read more about him here:
Also please read the other posts. I share company with a great group of writers.