For someone who likes it so much there’s a lot of sex I knock back.
I always consider myself open minded to the opportunity, and in theory think it would be unusual for me to spurn perfectly good sex when it’s on offer. Besides anything else, the sun aint always gonna shine so best to make hay while it does. That’s the theory. In reality there’s a consistent pattern of either refusing it outright, or discouraging the possibility. Why, grasshopper?
Sometimes it’s just not right. It doesn’t feel right. Sure you can have it, but should you?
I tend to be a little embarrassed by these occasions, as if I’m letting down some indeterminate side (just as an aside, I’m often amazed at how much sex some people think I’ve had). Truth of it is though is there are times it would be wrong, either because it would be exploiting someone who likes you better than you do them, or because you run the risk of an entanglement you don’t want, or maybe just because they don’t appeal to you. There are other reasons to. There have been perfectly attractive women who annoyed me so much I wanted not a bar of them. Or, maybe it’s just inconvenient – the time isn’t there, or you feel crook, or whatever.
Last night it was for another, though quite common reason.
I don’t do fuck-buddies. I understand why many people are drawn to it, but it’s not for me. It’s a bit to formulaic for my liking. Any sex that has to be scheduled is bad sex in my book. As far as I’m concerned has to be the product of one of three things – love, pure desire, or spontaneous opportunity. Convenience doesn’t cut the mustard.
I’m notorious in some quarters for my 3 root rule, which was adapted from Kundera’s rule of 3’s from The Unbearable Lightness of Being. It may be controversial, but I think it eminently sensible:
“Either you see a woman three times in quick succession and then never again, or you maintain relations over the years but make sure that the rendezvous are at least three weeks apart”
Mine’s a bit simpler than that, and the motivation is probably different: I’m not interested in convenient sex. It has to have a joyous aspect, and I’m very happy to fuck the right woman again and again every day of the week. That’s the right woman, and she’s hard to find. Otherwise, I figure, you have to guard against the routine and joyless.
So basically I’ll never have sex with the same woman more than twice, unless she’s the right woman (or who I figure might be). The first time is fine because, well, it’s the first time. The second time is okay because it was good the first time or because you might be interested and are not sure. The third go is a no-no though because you should know by then. You fuck a third time and you’re in a relationship, and you better be ready for it.
There are clauses to modify the rule – as Tomas quite rightly allows for, time in between makes a difference – but the general rule is true.
I’ve had women turn their noses up at the notion before later coming to me and admitting it’s actually pretty reasonable.
I’m not being unfair or making judgements and there’s nothing misogynistic about it – it’s simply a rule that protects us from something that might otherwise do us mischief.
Last night I was encouraged to an arrangement by which both of us could satisfy our need for intimacy. To be honest, I don’t have a need for intimacy except of the emotional kind. It’s passion I want to feel in bed, but it has to be natural. I’m not interested in an arrangement and once more in my life found myself rejecting the opportunity for some easy sex. I’m stubborn like that.