Two and a half years. Yup, that’s how long it’s been since the last time I had sex. My extended celibacy has not been completely voluntary either, but I have passed up few opportunities to have sex since Sunday, December 6, 2009 at approximately 8pm. I’m kind of hoping for a summer fling here in Colorado, but really I’ve grown tired of the feast or famine sex life I’ve put up with for all of my adult life. The next time I have sex with someone, I want there to be a real connection, I want to know that my sex life is going to be consistent and I don’t want to have to wonder when of if it’s going to happen. I don’t want to have plan or scheme to get it or take vacation days from work to go after it.
Celibacy is particularly challenging for me because I really enjoy sex. I think about sex a lot, at least as often as most men do I’m sure, but probably in a different way. Generally men seem to think about sex in terms of quantity, either by the number of women they can have it with and/or the number of times they’re getting it from their significant other. A male co-worker once confessed to me that he stopped counting sometime after bedding his 100th conquest and I believe that he was telling me the truth. When I met him he was still seducing women on a regular basis regardless of his wife and two kids. Me, I think of sex in terms of quality and I’m not just talking about mind-blowing orgasms. I’m talking about an imprint of an intimate moment of lovemaking: how Boy Wonder’s kisses tasted sweet like strawberries; the feel of long, soft curls over my body from the sexy sommelier I met in Virginia; the culmination of a six month seduction as my lover watched me undress in the warm candlelight on a late spring evening. Oh, how I live for these moments. I absolutely hate it when I end up in a situation where I leave thinking,” Geez, I could have had a V-8.”
Like Chris Rock says in Bigger and Blacker women are all about the mood. Despite the misogynistic overtones in this particular section of his stand-up routine, I had to laugh at my own idiosyncrasies when he proclaimed that a woman knows if she’s going to have sex with a man within the first five minutes of meeting him as long as he doesn’t say anything stupid. “If she’s in the mood to f**k you, shut up and let it happen ‘cause if you say the wrong thing them panties are coming up mighty fast.”
I’ve been keeping the panties up because the passive-aggressive approach of the men I’ve been meeting has been a big turn-off for me. First there was Big Daddy who would act coy and disinterested all evening but then wanted a make-out session in his car at the end of the night. Now I’ve got to deal with the IT guy who I’ve seen at least five times and who still has barely indicated any romantic interest in me, but tried to weasel an invite over to my place after our last night at the movies. And still, after I blatantly told him no, this week he called and said he thought it would be “nice” if he could come visit me in Colorado. Why would I even think about spending the night with a man who hasn’t made even the slightest attempt to make me feel wanted or desirable? Sure, we’re all afraid of rejection, but if a man can’t openly express his intentions towards me and then tries some backhanded, bullshit maneuver to get me into bed, then I’d rather just keep the panties on, thank you very much. A girlfriend from one of my Meet Ups so cleverly assessed the situation by stating, “You’ve got to at least put your bid in.” Don’t try to sneak in sex on the sly as if I might not notice because you’ve been acting like a proper gentleman all night. That’s not sexy.
Personally, I like it when a man is confident and direct about his motives as long as he’s sincere and not just trying to “holla” at me or fulfill his player card. (I’ve rejected a few of those propositions as well.) I’m not looking to hook-up on our first date, but he should do a little flirting if he wants me to know that he’s interested. Tell me you think I’m beautiful and that you love my smile. Ask me to spend time with you and then make a plan for us to do so. Say you can’t stop thinking about me and you want to see me again if that’s how you feel. For f**k’s sake, do some pursuing and put your bid in. You know I’ve probably decided within the first five minutes of meeting you whether or not I want to give you some, so just don’t say anything stupid.
Can I get a witness ladies? What makes the panties drop for you?