When I first began the Manbbatical, people asked me how I would deal with my imminent horniness.
I joked with my interrogators I said I wasn’t worried, I told them I would deal with it in my own way. I have been. I masturbate. That’s all I can do.
Obviously it’s fun and the orgasms temporarily quench my sexual thirst, but at month seven, I am dying.
People sometimes get on my case, saying they’ve gone years without getting laid, and tell me to get over myself.
To them I say that’s your problem. For me, three months of sex-sobriety is a dry-spell. The reality is, I usually have a boyfriend, or am involved with someone. As a result: my boy-craziness.
Being horny in general is uncomfortable, but being horny when you’re crushing hard on someone is torturous. Imagining all the things I want to do to him? Fantasizing about all of the things I want him to do to me?
Here’s what not to do to fuel that raging fire: read romance novels.
Guys, I don’t know how to relate this to you – it’s not porn. Porn is porn. Romance novels are not something I read often, a treat that I indulge in maybe twice a year.
During month seven of no sex, it’s like sliding on your best pair of Bad Idea Jeans.
Know what else is a really stupid idea when starved for intimacy and physical touch? Reading books on how to maximize a man’s sexual pleasure. Why am I reading these books, you may be asking yourself? I have no fucking idea. I guess I have a real self-punishing disposition.
As some of you may know, I have a serious lady-boner for certain man – a man that I’ve been not-dating for the past two and a half months, but whom I think about often – usually horizontally.
He is the man I plan to re-pop my cherry with the day my Manbbatical ends, on May 18th, 2011.
People have suggested that they are worried about his sexual performance on the occasion, because of the pressure due to the circumstances. I am not worried. He has basically been sexually active since I was born. He’s been around the block in terms of the ladies. I can only imagine that he’s been under all kinds of inveiglement and sexual cogitation.
The truth is, I may destroy him. But I have faith in him and his abilities. I don’t want to be able to walk for a few days. I don’t plan on leaving his bed for as long as possible. I’ve had several requests for interviews for those last days of the project, and I’m hoping I won’t be able to talk from my mouth being full. Too far? Too soon? Too bad. I’m dying for it.
I’m a woman who is physically affectionate to begin with. I like to touch people, whether it is a stroke on the arm, a rub on the back, and a hug for my friends, kisses for my loved ones… I love being touched as often as possible by a man that I’m into. Playing with my hair, touching my leg, holding my hand, kissing me, playing with my breasts, feeling me…
I have a few months left to go, and I’m already shopping for sexy lingerie. I already want to take him away on a trip so that we can be trapped in a hotel room and not leave our dirty sheets. I’ve been dreaming about all the spicy activities I want to get into with him that I’ve never done with anyone before.
I’ve been learning and getting ideas from these filthy books I’m reading, and all I can do is restrain myself from flying to L.A. and putting all of the x-rated lessons into practice on him. When I think about him, my cheeks flush and I instantly get wet.
Maybe he is the poorest/luckiest bastard I’ll ever sleep with. I may leave him for dead, but I hope not. He’s got a lot of work to do to make up for lost time. I’ve got a plethora of sexual acts I want to lay on him, and vice-versa.
I need to keep in mind that four and a half months is still a lot of time, and anything can happen. He may not be into it, come the spring. I may not be, either – but I don’t see this desire for him subsiding any time soon.