The Over-Educated Nympho

He opened the door to his hotel room wearing a sweat-stained polo shirt and droopy jeans. He looked half asleep.

Him (no he doesn’t get a cute moniker because you will see his is NOT WORTHY): Hey gorgeous, come ‘ere and give me a hug.

He opened his arms wide in anticipation of my full-frontal embrace, but really opening his arms just revealed that he had some severe love handles. So severe that they showed under a baggy polo shirt. Oh dear.

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I thought I would be more nervous about tonight. Or at least a little nervous, because it’s been so long since I’ve done that whole dating thing (note: “dating” is generally my euphemism for “picking up guys and having casual sex”). I thought I would be worried and self-conscious about whether I’ve still “got it.”

Now it’s not like I’ve forgotten how to fuck, it’s only been two and a half weeks since my final almost-ex sex. But relationship sex (even hot relationship sex) is different from casual sex. It just is. Relationships inherently have a high level of respect between the people involved, which can get in the way of some of the Nasty Nasty I am such a fan of.

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Ok so this story happened like four years ago but it’s still funny as hell and I can’t believe it hasn’t already made it onto this site so heeere we go:

2 am, in bed with a new guy. Progress from making out and rolling around to him working his way down to where he should be.

Idiot Guy: Is this the clitoris?
(he’s two inches away… how many inches are there really to choose from?)

Me: —-

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Me: I have a date tonight. My first since the break-up. I’m very excited.

Cool CoWorker: You have a date? I thought you broke up with your last boyfriend because you didn’t want a relationship?

Me: Who said a date has anything to do with a relationship? This is strictly a sex thing.

Cool CoWorker: Wow. You transitioned quickly.

Me: My pussy has a way of doing that. It’s a beast.

CoWorker: ——