Jessica Wildfire's Blog, page 448

Yep. Anyway, good essay.

Yep. Anyway, good essay. I hope my response didn’t come off as too irreverent. On a more serious note, I think you did a great job articulating the emotions that a lot of guys go through every day.

This was a fantastic read.

This was a fantastic read. Here’s one thing I’ve noticed: Look at Hugh Jackman. He could probably have any porn-induced fantasy he wants. Who is he married to? An attractive, normal looking woman. Could Hugh Jackman randomly show up to a gym and scoop Megan Fox up into his arms? Probably not. She would consider that some creepy shit. So there ya go. The secret is finding that sweet spot — someone you find attractive, but not so attractive you can’t think straight. Also, I’ve never seen anyone form a lasting relationship from a random encounter. It’s always from a social/friend/work connection. I see people all the time that I’d be afraid to ask out. It’s normal.

What we think about during sex

Maybe I should go blow my nose. It feels like something’s in there, clinging to my nostril hairs for dear life. If I sneeze, that’s going to embarrass us both. Nobody wants their lover’s dried boogers snuffed onto their cheek during foreplay. Okay, one more kiss and then I’m off to the bathroom. Okay, two more.…

Wow, do I have to pee. Why didn’t I go when I was blowing my nose? Now he’s going to start asking questions, doubting himself, or maybe worse. Doubting me. Eeek. Maybe he’ll think I’m sneaking off to cut holes in all of his condoms. I don’t know. You just can’t guess what goes on inside someone else’s head. On the other hand, maybe he’ll think it’s cute. I could put my finger on his lips and chuckle. I’ll say, “So I’ve got to take a whiz. Be right back! Just lie your sexy self right there and wait for me.” Should I do it like that?

No, no, no. I should exercise some willpower. For god’s sake, I’ve gone seven hours in the car without a bathroom stop. Epic. If I can handle that, I can sure as hell last 30 minutes. Wait, who am I kidding? Guys last probably 14 at best? I can speed him up by moaning and thrashing my head a little. Throw in a quiver or two. I’ll be back in the bathroom in no time.

A whiz is going to feel so good. Funny when you think about it. So many things have the same end result as an orgasm. A sneeze, a well-deserved pee, a sandwich when you’re hungry.

Shit. I’m actually really hungry. Like Zombie hungry.

That reminds me. Did you know the female Praying Mantis eats its lover right after coitus? Wait, who am I talking to? Ah, myself. Got it.

Imagine if people did that, ate their lovers right after sex. We’d be so fucked as a species. Side note: He’s nibbling my neck right now. That feels so good. Does teething on me make him a cannibal? What does that make me, if I enjoy someone pretending to eat my flesh?

Obviously, I had some wine earlier.

But this guy can’t drink before sex, at all. It really sucks for him. He gets whiskey dick from half a glass of wine. Women think we have it rough with pregnancy. Imagine his world. He orders something and pretends to drink it while I get significantly wasted. If this guy goes out with even the remotest intention of getting laid, he can’t do alcohol.

That’s pretty much the worst.

Oh, wow. He’s really up in there now. I was about to reach for my vibrator, but I don’t think I need to!

Everyone’s mind wanders during sex. It’s human nature. That doesn’t mean sex is boring. For some people, it’s just hard to turn off your brain. Our minds and bodies operate on different channels. Rest assured, my body’s having a wicked good time right now.

I’ve just got to remember to play the part. Moan. Gasp. Sigh. Move your hands. Arch your back. Repeat.

Does my breath smell? I can’t tell if it’s him or me.

I’m weird. I’ll just lie there like a corpse if they let me. To my lovers, I look half dead and miserable. They don’t understand, a little peep counts as my version of the wildest climax you’ve ever seen on PornHub. At my height of ecstasy, every part of me warps off into deep space. To my lovers, it looks like I’m flat-lining. For me, le petite mort ain’t a metaphor.

We don’t ask for our sexualities. We just deal with them. As you can imagine, I’ve been dumped more than once precisely because it didn’t look like I enjoyed sex, despite every attempt to explain myself.

A few times, I tried to fake what lovers want. Can’t do it. Pretending to act like a porn star drained every ounce of my libido.

Fortunately, this guy doesn’t care much about my facial expressions or pillow acting. Wow, hey down there. That feels great! What should I say? Atta boy? Nah, that sounds like a pedophiliac soccer coach.

No offense to pedophiles. I know some of them are good people. Like I said, you don’t choose your sexuality. Jesus, that must really suck. You want to have sex with kids, but you know you can’t. I’m so sorry — to the law abiding ones, I mean. If you actually did the nasty with a 13-year-old, then you need a padded cell with three square meals a day, and maybe the Internet with strict parental controls installed.

That reminds me, I need to call my mom.

Nah, fuck her.

I’ll call my dad.

And now for something completely different. He’s breathing hard now. The thrusting has increased. Woo, feels pretty great. I think this one’s about to combust. Btw, how many times have I had sex now? I’ve never tried to count. Let’s see. One steady lover in college, a bunch of times when we got naked in the sheets. In my 20s, a handful of random hook-ups and two long-term relationships.

I’m going to guestimate, 300 times? I’m not even sure why I’m counting. Just curious. It’s so weird when you think about some people, like virgins. People in their 20s who’ve never had sex. I mean, a 19-year-old virgin kinda makes sense. I didn’t lose mine until 19. Some friends of mine lost theirs at 16, and they called me a late bloomer. Some of them tell me they’ve done it a thousand times or more.

Oscar Wilde once said after 25, everyone’s the same age. That idea must apply to sex, yeah? After 25 fucks, everyone’s pretty much on the same field. I mean, you might not understand certain terms. Like last month, I asked my friend what “eating ass” meant. She laughed at me. When she explained, I went ohhhhhh. Sticking your tongue into someone’s butt crack isn’t eating at all. It’s licking. That’s a much more precise term. Yes, I’m on the spectrum, in case you were wondering … But I’ve noticed that autism makes me funny, because I see normal things in a weird way that makes people laugh.

Oh, hang on. What’s this? This guy is thrusting hard now! Wow! This feels amazing! I’m gripping the duvet, glancing at my FitBit. Holy fuck, we’ve been going for 45 minutes. Are we rock stars? Because I kind of feel like we might be rock stars. My lover plays a musical instrument. Not a guitar, but a cello. That’s almost hotter, somehow. Because it’s unexpected. I mean, who plays the cello and fucks like this? I have no idea.…

What we think about during sex was originally published in The Hit Job on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.

What We Think About During Sex

Maybe I should go blow my nose. It feels like something’s in there, clinging to my nostril hairs for dear life. If I sneeze, that’s going to embarrass us both. Nobody wants their lover’s dried boogers snuffed onto their cheek during foreplay, and I definitely don’t want to see that shit — my mucus a mere centimeters from my own eyes. Okay, one more kiss and then I’m off to the bathroom. Okay, two more…

Wow, do I have to pee. Why didn’t I go when I was blowing my nose? Now he’s going to start asking questions, doubting himself, or maybe worse. Doubting me. Eeek. Maybe he’ll think I’m sneaking off to cut holes in all of his condoms. I don’t know. You just can’t guess what goes on inside someone else’s head. On the other hand, maybe he’ll think it’s cute. I could put my finger on his lips and chuckle. I’ll say, “So I’ve got to take a whiz. Be right back! Just lie your sexy self right there and wait for me.” Should I do it like that?

No, no, no. I should exercise some willpower. For god’s sake, I’ve gone 7 hours in the car without a bathroom stop. Epic. If I can handle that, I can sure as hell last 30 minutes. Wait, who am I kidding? Guys last probably 14 at best? I can speed him up by moaning and thrashing my head a little. Throw in a quiver or two. I’ll be back in the bathroom in no time.

A whiz is going to feel so good. Funny when you think about it. So many things have the same end result as an orgasm. A sneeze, a well-deserved pee, a sandwich when you’re hungry.

Shit. I’m actually really hungry. Like Zombie hungry.

That reminds me. Did you know the female Praying Mantis eats its lover right after coitus? Wait, who am I talking to? Ah, myself. Got it.

Imagine if people did that, ate their lovers right after sex. We’d be so fucked as a species. Side note: He’s nibbling my neck right now. That feels so good. Does teething on me make him a cannibal? What does that make me, if I enjoy someone pretending to eat my flesh?

Obviously, I had some wine earlier.

But this guy can’t drink before sex, at all. It really sucks for him. He gets whiskey dick from half a glass of wine. Women think we have it rough with pregnancy. Imagine his world. He orders something and pretends to drink it while I get significantly wasted. If this guy goes out with even the remotest intention of getting laid, he can’t do alcohol.

That’s pretty much the worst.

Oh, wow. He’s really up in there now. I was about to reach for my vibrator, but I don’t think I need to!

Everyone’s mind wanders during sex. It’s human nature. That doesn’t mean sex is boring. For some people, it’s just hard to turn off your brain. Our minds and bodies operate on different channels. Rest assured, my body’s having a wicked good time right now.

I’ve just got to remember to play the part. Moan. Gasp. Sigh. Move your hands. Arch your back. Repeat.

I’m weird. I’ll just lie there like a corpse if they let met. To my lovers, I look half dead and miserable. They don’t understand, a little peep counts as my version of the wildest climax you’ve ever seen on PornHub. At my height of ecstasy, every part of me warps off into deep space. To my lovers, it looks like I’m flat-lining. For me, le petite mort ain’t a metaphor.

We don’t ask for our sexualities. We just deal with them. As you can imagine, I’ve been dumped more than once precisely because it doesn’t look like I enjoyed sex, despite every attempt to explain myself.

A few times, I tried to fake what lovers want. Can’t do it. Pretending to act like a porn star drained every ounce of my libido.

Fortunately, this guy doesn’t care much about my facial expressions or pillow acting. Wow, hey down there. That feels great! What should I say? Atta boy? Nah, that sounds like a pedophiliac soccer coach.

No offense to pedophiles. I know some of them are good people. Like I said, you don’t choose your sexuality. Jesus, that must really suck. You want to have sex with kids, but you know you can’t. I’m so sorry — to the law abiding ones, I mean. If you actually did the nasty with a 13-year-old, then you need a padded cell with three square meals a day, and maybe the Internet with strict parental guidance controls installed.

And now for something completely different. He’s breathing hard now. The thrusting has increased. Woo, feels pretty great. I think this one’s about to combust. Btw, how many times have I had sex now? I’ve never tried to count. Let’s see. One steady lover in college, a bunch of times when we got naked under the sheets. In my 20s, a handful of random hook-ups and two long-term relationships.

I’m going to guestimate, 300 times? I’m not even sure why I’m counting. Just curious. It’s so weird when you think about some people, like virgins. People in their 20s who’ve never had sex. I mean, a 19-year-old virgin kinda makes sense. I didn’t lose mine until 19. Some friends of mine lost theirs at 16, and they called me a late bloomer. Some of them tell me they’ve done it a thousand times or more.

Oscar Wild once said after 25, everyone’s the same age. That idea must apply to sex, yeah? After 25 fucks, everyone’s pretty much on the same field. I mean, you might not understand certain terms. Like last month, I asked my friend what “eating ass” meant. She laughed at me. When she explained, I went ohhhhhh. Sticking your tongue into someone’s butt crack isn’t eating at all. It’s licking. That’s a much more precise term. Yes, I’m on the spectrum, in case you were wondering…But I’ve noticed that autism makes me funny, because I see normal things in a weird way that makes people laugh.

Oh, hang on. What’s this? This guy is thrusting hard now! Wow! This feels amazing! I’m gripping the duvet, glancing at my FitBit. Holy fuck, we’ve been going for 45 minutes. Are we rock stars? Because I kind of feel like we might be rock stars. My lover plays a musical instrument. Not a guitar, but a cello. That’s almost hotter, somehow. Because it’s unexpected. I mean, who plays the cello and fucks like this? I have no idea…

This bottle of Windex has made me invincible! :D :D :D

This bottle of Windex has made me invincible! :D :D :D

Nailed it.

Nailed it. A twist for a future post, maybe. What if the kid is normal, but the parent is mentally ill?

Atheism is the closest name to my beliefs.

Atheism is the closest name to my beliefs. Honestly, I fall into the “don’t care” category when it comes to omnipotent beings — so distant God. I think every religion gets a few things right. The Quran has an almost cheeky tone. Paraphrase: “Have as many wives as you want, buster. Good luck with that...” So much of what we call “religion” boils down to specific interpretations that become encoded over time. Despite all that, we should be good to each other because that ultimately results in a better life for everyone…

What a great kid!

What a great kid!

They should make special strip clubs that look like coffee houses, so depressed writers can go…

They should make special strip clubs that look like coffee houses, so depressed writers can go there and pay “baristas” to listen to their problems.

Thanks!

Thanks!