Dear Random Guy From Twitter,
There was a time when I enjoyed you sending me videos and pictures of you masturbating in the morning. It gave me a boost to think that someone thought about me in a sexual way. For a while I entertained thoughts of maybe meeting you and fucking some day.
But time went on and I realised a few things;
- I am not attracted to you. The more I look at your photos the more I see that I don’t like. And I makes me want to talk to you less.
- We aren’t going to meet. Not because of me but because of you. If you were genuinely interested you would have taken advantage of the several opportunities you have had.
- You aren’t really interested in me. I am just part of your spank bank. An interactive photo that you use to help you get off in the morning before you shower and go to work.
So when I worry about being rude because I don’t reply to all your messages I need to remember to remind myself that you are just flicking though your stimulus and you probably don’t care. So happy hunting. I am busy. When I need a sexual boost and I am at that point again I will net you know.
Sex Goddess Gemma.
Recently I have joked to a couple of my chat friends that I am thinking about becoming celibate. They think the concept is hilarious. In their minds and probably in their fantasies I am still the sex goddess I was when they met me. I guess in some ways I am. In many others I am not.
The last couple of years have seen a lot of changes in my life. I think, finally, I have become a grownup. I have a real job; one where I have to be responsible all the time. I am currently the only person in my household that actually has a full time job so in some ways I am kind of the breadwinner. No not really, that would be too much grown up even for me. For the first time in a long time I am thinking about the future and the direction that I want to steer my life. Probably the most grown up thing a person can do.
What, I hear you ask, have either of those things got to do with not being a sex goddess? The answer is actually not very much. Other than my headspace is not constantly occupied with thoughts or plans for the next adventure. Something that was a key part of being a sex goddess. These days when people ask me about my fucket list my answer is; “Fucket list, oh yeh I remember what one of those is”
I just realised; another key indicator of being a grown up, I use semi colons in my writing. Or is that a side effect of being a teacher? I don’t know but it a bit freaky, here I am pouring my heart out to the void of the Internet and I am ticking off grammar and sentence structure in my head. I need a really good fuck.
So we were talking about fucket lists. I remember that I have often said I don’t like to have a specific list. But I guess that I kind of did. I kind of remember what was on it. Right now my fucket list consists of; have sex with my husband, have sex with Engineer X. Not necessarily in that order. Logistics seem to get in the way a lot these days. People think that having small children is a drag on your sex life. Those people really have no idea. Mainly because they are yet to experience having teenagers living with you. Small children don’t know, or care, if they walk in on you having sex. They are not scarred by the experience. What’s more they go to bed at a sensible hour meaning you can actually have pre sex on the couch before you start falling asleep. Teenagers don’t do that. They want to stay up and share their rubbish idea of what is good TV and make it awkward if you want to make sexy jokes with your husband. What’s worse is they don’t go to bed nice and early so that you can invite over some special people or when you get dressed to go out and meet said special people they ask all kinds of questions about where you are going.
Actually my teenagers have kind of got the hint that asking too many questions is not a good idea so I guess I have trained them to a certain extent but it is still awkward getting out the door some days. Mr Jones is much more concerned about that kind of thing that me. I feel more comfortable being relatively candid. He does not. So we land somewhere in between which is, by definition, awkward. I guess I just have to keep telling myself that it is only temporary. Not that I am expecting them to move out but I am definitely not going to sugar coat things for my eighteen year old children just to spare them some awkwardness. That is just creating a rod for your own back.
It seems I have worked through and dismissed my standard list of excuses for not being sexy enough so now I am left with a task; hang up my goddess cape or stop making excuses. My friends are right, hanging up the cape is a hilarious idea. Hilarious because it is so unlikely. And because I simply don’t want to. As much as Mr Jones is irritating me right now he is just going to have to get out his impressive junk and use it on me. Because a happy wife makes for a happy life and to be happier I need more sex in my life.
Thanks for listening Internet Void, you are the best therapist ever.
Wind back the clock about five years and my life was in a very different place. I was not employed in a paying job, I had time on my hands and Gemma Jones was at the start of her glorious career. I am not talking about the British actor but rather the sex goddess who defined my life for several years.
Fast forward to now and my life is radically different. I find myself struggling to explain to myself why a section of my life that was so amazingly empowering and just plain fun seemed to be so hard to keep alive. It is true that life is all about cycles and as the years slide by things change, no matter how much we want them to stay the same. It is also true that a life that is based around sexual gratification is ultimately very two dimensional and, ironically, unsatisfying. My life these days is much more…. twenty dimensional, and emotionally challenging and satisfying in ways that are completely different. But I keep going back to the thought that there still has to be space for Gemma in there.
For a good while I was approaching the problem from the perspective that time was the issue. I just needed to make Gemma time more of a priority in my life and give myself time to be ‘all that’. Sometimes this worked. And sometimes I have been Gemma. Actually, reflecting as I write, I think I have been Gemma a little more than I realise. A more subtle and grown up Gemma than the overtly sexual and in your face version of five years ago.
I was having a conversation with Pet recently that wasn’t really about this issue but during the course of the conversation I realised something that I hadn’t thought of before. Being Gemma is not just about finding time to fit that stuff into my life. It is also about confidence. This Gemma;
Was 10kg lighter, and had lovers in her life who were solely focussed on her. She was told almost every day by a range of people how completely desirable she was. Today’s Gemma does not look in the mirror and see a ravishing sex goddess. Instead she sees the cellulite, the belly, the folds of skin over her eyelids and she frantically checks for signs of a double chin. When she is at work she is required to wear clothing that cannot be seen up, down or through and she is constantly under review by the most self centred of beings, teenagers, and the most demanding of humans, their parents.
In short Mrs Jones often needs to be reminded she is HOT.
To effectively be able to get Gemma on Mrs Jones needs to be convinced that she is sexy or it ain’t gonna happen. It may sound egotistical and it is. I don’t need to remind anyone who has spent time with the real Gemma that the experience is not about worshipping a passive being. Gemma is all about giving and satisfying. Her own gratification is based very much on other people’s satisfaction but that is impossible to achieve if she doesn’t have confidence in her ability and appeal.
So I guess I need to add another requirement to the list for potential playmates;
- Must be able to make Mrs Jones feel like she is sexy.
That shouldn’t be too hard to achieve.
A few nights ago I received an interesting proposition from a gentleman that I have known for a couple of years. Mr Jones and I have enjoyed some excellent sex with this gentleman and his very sexy wife several times over those years. Every time we have met and played together it has been all four of us in the same room. Definitely we have swapped partners but there has never been talk of them enjoying sexy time without their partner being at least in the same house. Yet there it was, a message asking if I could come and visit him at a time and place where his wife would not be present. When I enquired about her knowledge of the adventure his reply was; “It will be our little secret”
This was not the kind of guy I would have ever imagined wanting to cheat on his wife. I was taken aback by his approach and it put me in a dilemma, I had very much enjoyed his company but I really didn’t want to get involved in a situation like that? In the end I refused. I hope politely.
Single women in I have met have told me that of 90 – 95% of the couples they meet they will be approached by the man later asking for separate and secret sex. But to be approached by someone who is involved in swinging with their partner and still wants to cheat? I don’t get it. Why do they feel the need for more?
For some people infidelity is black and white. Either you do it and you are the scum of the earth or you don’t do it and you think everyone who does is the scum of the earth. I have learned over the years of talking with people who either commit or think seriously about infidelity, both men and women, that life is never that simple. I have also come to have the very firm belief that other people’s marriages are their business. I don’t have the right, or the knowledge of the situation to make any kind of judgement call about how people choose to conduct their relationship. In the past I have enabled people to commit adultery, either directly by participating, or indirectly by providing an alibi. Some of these situations have been very mutually satisfying and some have not exactly gone according to plan and resulted in people being caught out in a lie. When a cheater is caught in a lie I have observed their reaction is usually to tell more and bigger lies. I am always astounded by the obvious faults in these lies and how the victims of the cheating usually buy into the lies. This acceptance led me to adopt the policy of not judging a cheater. In every situation there are more facets than we can observe and often the supposed victim of the cheating is making a choice to turn a blind eye to what is going on.
I could write pages and pages about this but it isn’t the point of my post. As I said I have fucked people who are cheating on their partner before and it has been all kinds of hot and horny fun. So why did I turn down someone who has a proven, very excellent, track record based purely on the fact that what he is proposing is cheating on his wife? The answer is not what you may think, I have not become a moral and upstanding member of the community.
In short I am not interested in being involved with someone who is not free to give me the time and attention that I deserve. As I have proclaimed before, I am a Goddess. If your situation does not give you the freedom to give me the attention worthy of my status then I am simply not interested. I have a very busy life and when I take the time out to hook up it has to be on my terms and it most definitely has to be very very satisfying. Don’t get me wrong, all of my partners will attest that I am most definitely a giving bed partner. But know this; if my feelings after an encounter are meh then I will not be placing a priority on going back for more. In my experience people who feel the need to sneak around behind their partner’s backs are very self centred. This often leads to sex which is great for them but pretty meh for me. Not something I am interested in.
The other aspect of cheaters that I refuse to buy into is that they seem to think that asking a girl to drop everything, drive for thirty or forty minutes and hook up for thirty minutes of sex in the back seat of a car while their wife watches CSI is acceptable. It isn’t. Maybe when I was nineteen and hadn’t realised that my life wasn’t a door mat for other people to wipe their feet on, but as a forty-two year old who is very aware of my value definitely not. In short, if you want access to my vagina it is on my terms and my terms are; you turn up on time and you make sure you are able to give me and my vagina the attention it deserves.