Posts Tagged sexy

Happy New Queer

Three months goes by surprisingly quickly, doesn’t it? Hi, Blogosphere!

It’s been a bit of an odd three months of kind of drifting through life, no longer in education for the first time, freelancing to get by; when I last wrote I’d moved back in with my family for the foreseeable future. Fortunately, while hindsight may always be 20/20, the future is something we’re blind to and that living situation didn’t last very long (Not because of any familial fallouts or anything – it’s just that living under those conditions and in that damn village is not for me. At all). So I’m now back in the city I did most of my undergraduate in and living with a certain central European you may have read about before and her – our, really – flatmate. We hooked up once after I arrived back in the country but before I moved in, and established a no-sex-while-living-together rule which so far we’ve stuck to, even having slept in the same bed some nights in the winter when it was cold/one or the other of us was upset/whatever. She’s also just started seeing this guy she’s absolutely smitten with – actually all of us in the flat and our close friends really like him, so more power to her. I’ve no idea how long I’ll be living here, but that’s kind of interesting in a way; I’ll probably move country again around Easter, with any luck.

I’m still in touch with That Guy I Was Kind Of Seeing, after a blip in communication around early October when he didn’t speak to me for a couple of weeks. Mentions have been made of a possible visit but he also wants to Skype soon for a “proper open discussion about what the deal is with us and go from there” which sounds ominous (and for being the person that wants to have this conversation he’s surprisingly good at dodging Skype, so it’s taking a while). More news on that when I have it.

And I’m also spending a fair amount of time with this other guy I met on OKCupid in October who’s sort of halfway between a friend and someone I’m casually dating. He’s the first person I’ve ever “dated”-ish from the same country as me, I realised a few weeks in, which is interesting/weird (I don’t need to think before I speak or say “Sorry, accent thing” when there’s a miscommunication, which being a linguistic geek I find really fascinating and I wonder vaguely if it impacts on the type of communication we have but anyway that’s not really the point). We get on pretty well and are from pretty similar backgrounds – we actually were both in the same School at University, he in the year below me, but we somehow never met – but there’s not much of a spark and he’s also painfully obviously in love with his best friend which neither of them seem to have realised or aren’t willing to accept, and as I said earlier I’m planning to emigrate again soonish anyway so with all that in mind I don’t really think this is going to be anything substantial in the long-run. But he gives good head and we’re having fun right now which is the main thing, right?

So what can you expect from sexwithdexxx over the next few months? There won’t be any massive changes in the content though I am hoping to write more of the article-style posts which featured in the blog’s early days so this doesn’t just become a monotonous list of casual encounters and innuendo. Nothing too much is planned beyond the first couple of posts – which, of course, hinge on not being cancelled on in the near future – so your guess is as good as mine as to what you’ll be reading should you choose to stick with me.

And so with that little summary out of the way, all I can really say to you all is Happy New Year and hopefully you’ll be hearing from me again before too long!

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Is casual sex as fun as it could be?

I’m having a bit of what I think is an interesting conversation with myself in my head right now and I’ve not reached any conclusion yet; so maybe this post won’t have a conclusion either but it might help me get my head in order a little bit. Yesterday I was talking to a pretty boy on grindr (I’m not using “pretty boy” as a pejorative here), who as it turned out lives a couple of hundred kilometres away; when I said it was a shame he was so far away, he wrote back that “you just want to bend me over,” which is true, I did. But it occurred to me that until that point I had no idea whether he was top, bottom, versatile, what he was into at all – I just wanted to sleep with him because he was pretty and hadn’t put any thought into what it would be like or who would be doing what to whom.

Is this the difference between a more mature and a less mature approach to sex? “How much am I going to enjoy this?” as a key thought before jumping into bed with someone rather than “Pretty. Want.”? Not that it’s exclusively the latter that I’ve always taken into consideration, but more often than not it is. That’s not to say that I don’t enjoy one-nighters, of course I do, that’s why I do them. I just wonder whether I might enjoy them a bit more if I put more thought into them beforehand. The number of people I’m sleeping with would likely drop – not that it hasn’t recently, living in this shitty city that I resent; would that necessarily be a bad thing?

Actually yes, I think it would. I’m not under any illusions, I know that most of my sexual encounters aren’t substantial and they’re not intended to be, and I’m fine with that. Just because it’s neither explorative, boundary-pushing sex nor sex intended to be built upon into something other people might view as a worthwhile relationship doesn’t mean it isn’t valid, isn’t worthwhile, isn’t fun and can’t be learned from.

Well, I think I’ve settled this debate in my own head at least (don’t you often find writing things down helps?), that was easier than expected. Any of you have any thoughts on this?

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Over and under

I’m just back from a lovely extended weekend with the Boyfriend. I had my last set of classes until mid-April and a mock exam (which I excelled in, obviously; fingers crossed I can pull off a performance that well the last week in May) on Thursday so went out and got drunk that night, and turned up at his very hungover the next evening, he helped me recover by means of extensive cuddling and we had a fairly early night followed by some morning sex.

This time it was my turn to be the one in charge, which I quite enjoyed and he seemed to like as well. The first time he properly dominated me I wrote how it was a bit hypnotic to be focused 100% on someone else’s pleasure; having someone else 100% focused on you is equally amazing, if a bit more effort. I fucked his face for a while before lubing up, pushing him on his back and getting on top of him. You would think (I certainly always did) that bottoming also meant automatically being the submissive one in these contexts, but that couldn’t be further from the truth! Tumblr provides us with some useful advice here, from a blog called The Healthy Dominant:

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Having a hand around the throat really does help keep the submissive under control, and it’s quite a nice sensation to have your hand there in the first place. There’s something quite gratifying about seeing his face turn red as he’s fucking me from below, and thanking me for spitting on him. (Actually he doesn’t like being spat on as much as I enjoy spitting on him, so we compromise and I spit in his mouth instead.) As we got closer to the end his breathing got faster and the thrusts became more frantic. “Come on, fuck me, really fuck me, do it like you hate me” and he did and it was brilliant. I came on his belly before he pulled out and we kissed while he finished off, then had a cuddle and some toast. Not a bad start to the day!

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Grindr tales

How I managed to hook up with randoms before I got grindr is beyond me, really. Over the last three weeks or so I’ve hooked up with three guys from there – one, who I’ve seen twice now, I’ll probably see again, and two who for different reasons, I almost certainly won’t. Granted, this isn’t a lot, but still it’s nice to have the odd bit of fun during the week. Today, since it’s freshest in my memory and really only the only non-“he turned up, we fucked, he left” type story, I’ll tell you all about last night.

On Monday afternoon a guy sent me a message saying he was in town for work, they were putting him up in a hotel and did I fancy joining him. By the time the prerequisite exchange of photos and information had taken place, I’d missed the last bus to the centre and didn’t fancy a three-quarters of an hour long walk in the cold (it was -3 Celsius!). So we agreed on the following night instead and swapped phone numbers to arrange things. On Tuesday night, then, I met him in the city centre to go back to his hotel.

As it turns out he’s in a management training scheme for a certain well-known fruit based technology company and, as one would expect, they treat their staff very well. En-suite in the fanciest hotel on the central square in town? Don’t mind if I do. The guy was cute, too, tall, vaguely Celtic-looking (black hair, very blue eyes) despite not being from anywhere near anywhere Celtic. Actually he’s from the same place as The Boyfriend, weird that. Anyway, I had handily brought along my handy little box of condoms and lube since his supplies were limited and, after sneaking past the restaurant where his colleagues were having dinner, we got to the bedroom and onto the exceptionally comfy king sized bed. He seemed to have this thing about using his tongue more or less all over, which was fun but when you’re as ticklish as I am it can lead to bouts of hysteria quite easily. Then he suited up, so to speak (by which I mean put on a condom), lubed me up and off he went.

We changed position a few times but after a while I got a bit bored and we stopped that – but then he asked me to fuck him instead, which was a chance I jumped at since that’s quite a rare treat these days. We started off with him on his front, flat on the bed since that’s what works best for him starting out (and apparently he hadn’t bottomed since September), before I flipped him round to his back and fucked him with his legs wrapped round my hips. He came first over his own stomach and I came a few seconds after, then collapsed panting onto the bed.

After a quick bath to get all the lube, cum, and whatever other sticky stuff gets all over the place when two males have sex off, we went back to the cloudlike bed (it really was amazing) and during some small talk it transpired he was also training in massage, which I took full advantage of. He remarked – and it’s true, Magenta will tell you – that it sounds more like I’m having sex when I’m getting a massage than when I’m having sex (and I’m fairly vocal anyway!). That led to him stroking my dick through my underwear again which just set us both off, and so I sucked him until he came – didn’t seem to take as long the second time round, come to think of it, strange – and then finished myself off as he was recovering.

By this point there was no point in me trying to catch a bus back to mine because there are none by that time of night, so I got to stay over in the fancy bed. He went to spoon me at one point but I pushed him away – “no cuddles” to which he shrugged and said that was fair – and went to sleep. He had to get up early (well, I say early, eight in the morning) so I got up at the same time and left, slipping past the receptionists on my way out so as to save him any embarrassment with the expenses, and caught the bus home to get ready for uni. My bus drove past a coursemate on the way who spotted me and waved, which would have maybe been embarrassing under normal circumstances but given that he only just borrowed my copy of the Ethical Slut last week I sent him a text to tell him I was doing the walk of shame. “I think you mean the bus journey of triumph. Sex positive!” was his fantastic response, so I feel like I’ve educated someone a little. Also, there might be something to be said for getting up early like that, I’ve had an incredibly productive day!

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Boyfriended, Open Relationship (Terms and conditions apply)

Adorable Bastard has had his title upgraded now to The Boyfriend. Yep, you heard it here first (unless we’re friends on Facebook), Dexxx is no longer single. Weird, n’est-ce pas? So how did this come about? It was me who was unsure as to where I stood after our last conversation and things still felt a bit up in the air, so I asked him outright – “What do I call you when I’m talking about you to other people? This Guy I’m Seeing seems a bit long winded…” and we settled on boyfriend.

You should all know me well enough by now though to know that this isn’t your conventional couple-type relationship. Back in the very, very early days of this blog I wrote about non-monogamous relationships and the negotiations surrounding them, from the perspective of someone who’d never actually done any of that. You can read the post here, and actually what’s described in there is more or less exactly what happened both in our initial “what is this?” conversation and in a couple of others since then. It was all amazingly straightforward (because The Boyfriend is a reasonable human being and we both share the belief that being honest about your desires is probably the best way to get them and being up-front about your concerns is likely the best way to avoid problems later on), actually, though just because I’m using the past tense there doesn’t mean that these negotiations are over – everything is always up for open discussion at any time, as it should be.

The agreement, then, is this. Both of us can, guilt-free, hook up and have sex with other people (as long as that person isn’t in a monogamous relationship themself); to this end I still have my grindr profile active but it does now clearly state on there that all I want is NSA, which brings me to point two. While sex with others is okay, dates involving other people are not – no going out for drinks/dinner/coffee with other people, because that – to me, anyway – suggests romance and emotional involvement which is not what we’re going for here. Terms of endearment, cuddles and affection stay between the two of us, anything else is Just Sex. This probably in theory (though isn’t something I’m too worried about in practice as I don’t tend to get a lot of repeat performances anyway) also means not sleeping with the same person more than a few times, because that also is likely to end up having some sort of emotional string attached to it. Weirdly – or maybe this isn’t weird, you tell me – that’s the side of things where I’m more likely to view something as cheating or betrayal; have sex with other people all you want, that doesn’t bother me. But don’t spoon them all night and make them pancakes in the morning, or go for coffee with them and ruffle their hair or call them darling. All in all, it’s an arrangement which I’m very very happy with and he seems to be too, so long may it continue.

(It should also go without saying that we’re vigilant about safety and I have a seemingly endless supply of condoms and about half a litre of lube at the ready whenever it’s called for. This also means telling one another what we’ve done, when and with whom so we can decide what we feel comfortable doing with one another in terms of keeping ourselves safe.)

We’re having a lot of fun in bed and out of it. I’m getting to explore my dominant side a little which until now has been quite dormant, which I’m really enjoying, and means I get to put the collar I bought when I was visiting Magenta to good use. Bite marks, scratches and bruises are all kept below the neck though. We’ve yet to actually tie one another up but I’m looking forward to that happening!

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Home Again

I don’t really consider where I’m living just now to be “home” (KittyMama once told me, “Don’t take this the wrong way, Dexxx, but you don’t really have a home”, which is true though some places I’ve spent time in feel a lot more like home than others), but I’m not sure how else to describe my return from visiting Magenta. Firstly though, some back story.

I’ve mentioned in the passing before how much time I waste on Tumblr, it being my social network and procrastination tool of choice. Towards the end of the summer I started following a guy with the initial T who is quite tumblr-famous in his niche, and talking on skype; and a couple of months later, started following his (now ex-)boyfriend, C. Though the former lives not too nearby and we’ve never met, his now ex had not long moved to the city next to this one, and so in December when I was going on a night out in that city, I invited C along. We’ve stayed in touch and hung out a lot since then, and a few weeks ago he split up with T.

I think it’s fair to say – though C, since he reads this, will no doubt correct me if I’m wrong – that even before the break up it was a bit of a foregone conclusion that he and I would end up hooking up at some point. I think I probably realised this over the Christmas holidays when I got a text off him and started smiling stupidly in that way that you smile when you get a text from someone you like (it hadn’t occurred to me at this stage really) and, as he and T were still together at the time, immediately thought oh no. Anyway. My flight back from seeing Magenta last Thursday was to his city (mine doesn’t have an airport) and wasn’t due to arrive until quite late so I’d asked him before I went whether if I missed my last train back, it would be okay to stay at his. He told me that was fine and that since he didn’t have anything on on Friday, why not just plan to stay at his that night and save myself the stress of running for a train I would have in all likelihood missed anyway? Cast-iron logic, there, so I agreed and on Thursday night he met me at the train station and we went back to his.

It must have been around midnight by the time we got there, but I was still too wired from flying to be anywhere near sleepy and probably also jumped up on the excitement of the week away. It might sound weird, but right up until it happened, I really wasn’t sure whether it was going to or not. “Maybe I’ve totally misread this situation,” I thought, “maybe this really is just a platonic thing” but then he kissed me and those thoughts went out the window. We didn’t have sex that night, though. We kissed, we cuddled, we spooned all night, but didn’t have sex. And in the morning, he made me pancakes, earning him the title of Adorable Bastard.

He had been planning to come to my city for an event on the Friday night but it turns out he had the wrong month (yes really), so I ended up staying on Friday night too – we watched the 1989 Batman film, which I’d never seen but actually really enjoyed, and drank wine, and went to his students’ union for a bit

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That night while tipsy he asked if I wanted to spend Saturday night there as well, and I tentatively accepted, but the next day checked whether the offer still was valid in the cold and sober light of day. Luckily it was, and we spent most of the morning in bed before going to the city centre to a café that we pretty much always go to whenever I’m in town; had some cake and coffee, I briefly met Tigger who was in town with some other friends; and went back to his for some more fooling around in bed. Until this point in the weekend we’d limited ourselves to hands and faces, but that night we had penetrative sex for the first time. He’s an exclusive top (in terms of who’s putting what into whom, but a switch in terms of dominance/submission which made for some quite interesting dynamics I’d never explored the following weekend, which is another story for another day) and as you probably know by now my experiences of bottiming are mixed at best but luckily he was one of the ones with whom it just worked, straight away. Maybe because I was very relaxed around him already, I dunno. He takes a really long time to cum, but with it being a weekend and having nothing urgent to do, it was nice to take the time and have a longer, more intimate session rather than the usual rushed experience with people from hookup sites or Grindr.

We saw each other this weekend too – again, another story for another blog – and again, it was cute, and lovely. We’ve had a sort of “what is this, what are we” type conversation already and the conclusion was, “no proverbial white picket fence, but when time is free come on round… together when we’re together” and that sleeping with other people is fine, as long as we’re both open about it and know what we need to know to keep ourselves safe (which, though this wasn’t mentioned was at least implied, includes protection from emotional damage as well as from STIs). So there we go, let’s see where this one takes us!

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Why I shouldn’t have an iPhone

It was a long-running joke among my flatmates and friends that it was just as well I didn’t have an iPhone or android, because given access to those apps specifically designed for hooking up I would likely end up doing nothing but hooking up with people. As I told you in my last post I now have an iPhone and the dreaded app, and stories are happening quicker than I can write them. 

Last week was a week of exams; some went well, some not so well but I got through not badly and I’m now enjoying my time off before classes start again in February. After my first exam, which was on Monday and went terribly, I was in a really foul mood. I took myself to a university café for a coffee before heading home and, since I hadn’t had the app open on campus before, I turned it on to see who was about. A few cute boys, a few nice chests, the occasional creep – to be expected, really – all within about 500 metres (it’s a very small campus). Half a latte later my phone bleeped to tell me someone had messaged me on this app and it turned out to be from a profile with a nice chest and not a lot else. We messaged back and forth a little, got some body and face pictures of this man, and since I was in need of cheering up, agreed to meet him on campus. But where?

“I work for the university housing department – and I have a key to one of the empty studio flats on campus. Meet you there?” Go on, then. 

The studio apartment was hard to find initially, counter-intuitively located round the back of one of the larger buildings. I met him there, where there was a conveniently located bed, and we had some fun oral sex for a while before he had to go back to work. Having access to a room like that on campus may prove to be very handy, I might try to get him to let me use it with others  though that’s probably unlikely to happen given that if it ever transpired to a higher authority that he was using the flat for sexual encounters with students there’s a good chance he’d lose his job. Hmm. 

That same day I got a message from a cute undergrad boy from the same place as Stwc (remember him?) and he came round to mine for some fun a few days later, but that’s another story for the start of next week. 

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