Another blog post hot on the heels of last night’s – partly to make it clear that I have no intention of this becoming a largely protected blog and also because this was the post I wanted to write last night but wasn’t thinking coherently enough to pull all the strands of together.
It started with reading Justine Elyot’s short story, Thames Link, which opens with this line:
” I sing the praise of the sleazy man.”
And then, further down the same page:
“‘….it’s not about power. It is about sex. He wants it. Not you. It.”
I first read the story, which is the tale of a woman who meets such a guy on her commute and fucks him in various locations on the banks of the Thames, on Sunday night. Since then, it’s got me off five times. I mentioned elsewhere that once I find a story that turns me on I’m loyal it for days or even weeks, and this definitely looks set to fall into that category.
In reality, the thought that a guy might just want me for sex, not for sex with me in particular, is a difficult one to reconcile. I had no problem with it when I was having one night stands with guys at uni, these days I think I’d find it a little harder to come to terms with.
Which kind of brings me to the next strand. I had a brief conversation with someone on Twitter about the kind of messages you often get on Plenty of FIsh, OKCupid and Tinder. I’m not about to reopen either of my accounts to find one that I was sent, so hopefully she won’t mind if I use the example she gave, which was:
I want to bend you over.
In short, she was pissed off about receiving messages like these because, as she said, the guy in question is unlikely to be interested in her specifically, and is almost certainly sending this message to loads of girls in the hope of maximising his chances of getting laid.
And she has a point. When you’re a woman looking for a guy to have a serious relationship with, sifting through messages like these can quickly become exhausting and demoralising. Internet dating is hard enough, without that kind of bullshit.
But, on the other hand, these are the kinds of guys that fuel my fantasies, and every so often, usually in the 3 days before my period starts, when I’m at my most horny, I might be tempted to engage with such a guy just so that he can describe all the filthy things he wants to do to me (where ‘me’ actually = anyone).
I think by now we’ve established in many other posts that I’m not that keen on meeting new people. I’m certainly not keen on small talk. And so, perhaps it’s not that surprising that I like this kind of stuff – it’s a low-effort way of getting off without having to bother with any of the getting-to-know -you stuff or the nerves.
Not that I’m inviting anyone to send me messages of this kind. Enough come through in the general ebb and flow of online interaction, so I don’t need to put out a call. Plus, I can’t keep track of my own cycle, so how the hell would anyone else know when was the best time to send me this kind of thing?
And finally, if I am engaging in this, here is the worst thing that can happen (obviously abridged!):
I want to bend you over and fuck you till you can barely stand.
OK, that’s hot, I’m pretty close.
And then ill pull out and come all over you’re tits.
Forget it. I’m not close *at all.*
Reblogged this on Random Pen and commented:
“a low-effort way of getting off without having to bother with any of the getting-to-know -you stuff or the nerves”. Absolutely. I was just writing about this myself yesterday in my poetry workshop. Porn is for the lazy, beer and pizzas, guy.
But sometimes I am that girl/guy.
Come on, we all want the pay-off without the effort.
“Hot girls” is like pre-heated oven.
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