Post Coital and Clueless

klimtToday was a long day. I decided to retire early this evening. I’m lying in bed listening to the sounds of ocean waves…

on Spotify.com. 😦

Before giving up my business, for this crazy life, at this time of year, I often took my son to a four star hotel in Fort Lauderdale for our birthdays. That’s not to say I regret my decision in the least. I just find it amusing that previously I listened to the ocean outside my window. Now I listen to it on my phone.

I used to say that the best things I took away from being a theatre major were the tech skills I acquired.  I can reupholster, stain and restore antique furniture, build a costume from nothing, use a band saw,  jig saw and overhead, install dimmer switches, and make anyone look like a convincing old man or woman with some latex and tissue paper.

In truth,  probably the greatest skill I acquired was tapping into sense memory. Guys I’ve dated often wondered why I wasn’t into toys, particularly if I was alone.

For one thing,  they aren’t realistic in the least. I bought a small purse size vibrator once at the recommendation of a lesbian at “The Pleasure Chest”. She raved about it. I tried it and was numb for two days. Holy Mackerel! This thing was so powerful it could probably bore a hole in wood. It’s way too fast and there’s no hope for a “second coming” because you’re left numb from the waist down. Nope. I’ll take a guy and human touch over toys any day.

I don’t need toys because my gift for sense memory is stellar.  I can re-live great sexual encounters from decades ago as though they were yesterday. It’s fantastic. Particularly when it triggers pheromones. Which oddly enough, seems to happen much more frequently when using sense memory.

So why is it so easy to recall great, romantic sexual encounters, but so hard to recall what a douche bag the guy  you were with, turned out to be? Seriously!

One of my fav quotes about men, comes from the movie “Personal Services” with Julie Walters. (Hysterical movie, based on a famous madame in the UK who catered to kinky old men.) She said, “When the balls are full,  the brain is empty!”   (“The anti-climax” after the climax, which I covered in another post.)

So, as women, what’s our excuse? Is it the “nesting” instinct that tells us to overlook the obvious? And isn’t the “nesting instinct”  primarily relative to women of child bearing years? Ya. Those days are over.

I had the most amazing sex of my life with a guy I met on POF, who I all but ignored for several months (in spite of being totally attracted to his look) before finally agreeing to meet.  We actually challenged one another to hook up for some “heavy petting”. (Such a bizarre expression.) We ended up having sex. It was great.  I was totally obsessed with his body. We texted 2 or 3 hours a day, everyday until we met again

Our second meeting was at his place, in the burbs, weeks later. I came four times in two hours! FOUR! Not Kidding. Each time was more intense. I hit notes I’ve never hit before! I experienced things I’ve never known before.

Neither one of us had ever had an experience like that before.  Things got really messed up after that. He told me I was like “crack” to him. At the time I didn’t know that meant he probably liked me. Why couldn’t he just say that?? Duh!

I was mad about him, Or was I? I thought I was. I barely knew him except in the throes of intimacy and great passion. It was off the chain that night.

Afterwards,  I wanted to believe he had a good heart etc. But the traits I attributed to him,  I think may have been created in my mind alone. What’s that all about?

I’ve decided that women must be the direct opposite of men when it comes to sex. In a post coital state  (only if we cum) our brains are empty. The endorphins kick in and “Patrick the Prick, suddenly becomes “Patrick the Prince”.  And there’s a kind of amnesia that sets in that is so damned annoying!

I never saw “Patrick” again. He moved to Florida to live near his aging parents and get out of the Chicago cold. There was a lot of ETC (email, texts and calling.)  We bickered and taunted one another sexually and emotionally for 2 years.  Talk about a clusterfuck!

This afternoon I came across an old email from him. If he were here right now, there would no doubt be a repeat performance and I’d probably savor every moment of it.

Maybe that’s why I popped in the ocean waves on spotify…he lives in the ocean in Florida.

I guess I’ll try and fall asleep now…

I’d love to hear your thoughts on the post coital thing and the difference between men and women.

Thanks again for reading, liking, sharing, subscribing or just popping in. I’m truly grateful!!

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