Words of Advice to the Male Population (or at least the portion that has, is, or will be sleeping with me)

1. Grow a Beard. Or don’t. But for the love of all things smooth and soft in this world, please mind your facial hair. Granted, I am partial to boys with beards (it’s my thing, don’t judge), but however you choose to upkeep your face you must heed this warning: do not come anywhere near my lady bits with any sort of shadow. I don’t care if it’s 5 o’clock or noon on the dot. Keep it away. It’s prickly. Uncomfortable. And can leave me sensitive for days. Also it puts me in an extremely difficult position of explaining to the next gentleman (with finely groomed facial hair, mind you) as to why I let a porcupine attack my vajayjay.

2. Don’t talk a big game if you don’t intend to back it up. I guarantee that I’ve never slept with a man that I haven’t properly vetted beforehand. I like to know what I’m getting myself into. Plus my particular brand of kink involves lots of dirty talk and tension building far before the main event. But that’s the thing: I don’t bullshit. And you shouldn’t either. If you tell me that you’re into hair pulling and multiple positions then I damn well expect to find your fists against my scalp and to be tossed around just a little. I’m not saying we don’t all embellish a little when recounting secret fantasies, but for goodness sake don’t talk up your sexual prowess and then lie there like a dead fish letting me do all the work. Ain’t nothing hot about that.

3. Don’t fall of the face of the Earth. I’m a big girl. A big girl that likes sex just as much as you probably do. I am under no false assumptions that sex equals love, commitment, or even a second date. But the other things I like almost as much as sex are honesty, respect, and maturity. Trust me when I say that you aren’t breaking my heart if you tell me you want to leave it at sex and that’s all. Friends with benefits, if you will. Instead, it breaks my faith in humanity and kindness if you simply fade into the ether as if what we experienced never happened at all. Own your feelings/intentions and I vow to do the same.

4. My boobs are not your playthings. I like my boobs. Probably more than you do. They are a symbol of my womanhood and my sexuality. Touching them feels good…under the right circumstances. Touching them when we’re watching tv or cooking dinner or walking through the grocery store does absolutely nothing for me. In fact, the only thing it does is de-sexualize them during moments when we could both be deriving pleasure from their awesomeness. If you grabbed my boobs twice while we were watching Saturday Night Live, I’m pretty sure the effect will have worn off by the time we hit the mattress later that night. Caveat: doing this in a flirtatious manner in the hopes that it will lead to more totally doesn’t count.

5. Yes, you have to wear a condom. Can we all just agree to agree that the old, “but i can’t feel anything while wearing a condom,” line is bullshit? You can feel it, just as well as the last guy and every other guy after you. Does it feel better without a condom? Probably. But trust me, the reason you can’t keep it up has zero to do with the latex barrier that is between us. The barrier that will protect me from any nastiness that might be harboring in your urethra. And also from adding “baby-momma” to my resume. It’s as easy as that: you either strap one on or you aren’t coming anywhere near me. Literally and figuratively. I know from experience that absolutely amazing sex can be had with a condom and if you don’t know that same thing then chances are you aren’t doing it right.

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Potential For Greatness

I have really been neglecting this here corner of the internet. But in response to your comments, emails, and texts I will gladly provide you with an update. Oh, who am I kidding? I have missed this space and I have missed you all! I guess I’ve just been a little…distracted. But I am back to regale you with another sordid story of my singledom and sluthood.

First, however, there is some business I must attend to. One of the reasons that I haven’t written in quite some time is due entirely to my big mouth. I just get so darn proud of myself for maintaining this blog. And I get a little braggy about all you wonderful people who still stop by to read what I have to say. And I then I like to tell people about it. Especially when I write something about them. So really I have no one to blame but myself (and snooping boys too, kind of) if I am unable to maintain my anonymity. That being said, The Actor knows about my blog and he even knows what it’s called, although he promised that he wouldn’t look it up. I know that if it were me, I would never-in-a-million-years have been able to keep that promise. He saw my phone and the separate email address I keep that is associated with this space. He asked me what in the world “Sub-Fertile Slut” is and I had to tell him the truth lest I come across looking like a total weirdo–as opposed to the sort of weirdo that I most definitely am.

I pretty much straight up told Mr. Professor about this space. I did not, however, tell him the name. In an attempt to tease him just a little, I told him that I had written about him on my blog and being the slightly vain guy that he is, he went Googling for it to no avail. At least not as of the last time we talked about it. It’s not that I really care if any of these men read what I have to say about them, it’s more that I don’t want them to read what I have to say about other men. And to complicate it even further, it’s not that I care if they know about the other men, it’s mostly that I don’t want to have to censor myself. So, that’s exactly what I am going to continue to do–I don’t really know any other way.

Also, The Actor and/or Mr. Professor (and you know exactly who you are), you should definitely say HI if you are reading this. I promise I will still continue to write about you, regardless.

Now back to regularly scheduled programming….also known as what’s been going through my head, but haven’t been writing about due to the above business matters.

I have a major crush. Even at the risk of sounding like a 14-year-old schoolgirl, I will admit the extent of this crush is truly major.

I have been spending a lot of time with Mr. Professor–quality time both in and out of the bedroom. But, there are two major problems:

1. I’m married. I set out on this whole adventure with the intentions of avoiding getting in a relationship and developing major feelings for any guy. I simply wanted to date and have glorious, glorious sex. And up until this point I have been quite successful in that endeavor. I deemed myself “emotionally unavailable” and made that clear to every guy that I have gone out with. I even told Mr. Professor up front that I could not and would not ever be able to be his girlfriend. This worked out nicely for the both of us because he is in a similar situation, which leads me to the next problem.

2. He has a girlfriend. They’ve been dating long distance for a few years (long distance as in she lives on the other side of the world) and a while ago they decided to open their relationship up in the physical sense. I don’t want to share too many details because that is his story to tell, not mine. But things haven’t been on the most solid of ground lately and they are trying to determine what their future holds, if anything at all. I know that he is absolutely heartbroken over this. I know it both because he told me and also because I am intimately familiar with those same feelings. In much the same way I did, he made it clear that he was “emotionally unavailable” and not looking to be anybody’s boyfriend. He even had to give a “I’m breaking up with you even though we were never really dating in the first place” speech to another girl that he was hooking up with because she was getting attached and wanted him as a potential boyfriend.

So, what’s a girl to do?

I really like him and I think he really likes me too. And I just don’t know what any of this means. Or even if it has to mean anything at all.

I find myself questioning my desire to be non-monogamous. Maybe I want to try my hand at having a boyfriend? Maybe I don’t. I really have absolutely no clue. The only things that I do know are the following:

  • I like him.
  • As soon as I leave him, I am already anticipating the next time I will see him again.
  • I anticipate the above because our sexual chemistry is amazing, but I also crave just being around him.
  • I get a slight twinge of jealousy when he causally mentions another girl he’s gone out with or is planning to go out with. I do the same thing though and I’d hate to think that I’m imposing a double standard.
  • I think he’s incredibly hot.
  • When we aren’t together we are constantly texting and emailing.
  • I forget all about my marriage and The X when ever I’m around Mr. Professor. And sometimes even when I’m not.
  • He makes me feel hope about a future beyond my marriage even if that future doesn’t include him.
  • I now know what it feels like to be simply adored by a man.
  • He calls me sweet pea. And I think it’s adorable.
  • He likes my laugh, a trait I’ve always been self-conscious of.
  • He’s a southern gentleman and I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for southern boys.
  • He teaches me things–backgammon, new sex positions, and poetry–just to name a few.
  • He is kind, intelligent, a good conversationalist, and open-minded.
  • I don’t want to mess up what we currently have by mentioning that I might want something more. Especially because I’m not sure if I’d even be any good at that “something more.” Whatever that might be.

Part of me wishes that he would find this blog and read about what I am feeling–save me the anxiety of having this conversation face-to-face.

Part of me wishes he would just come out and tell me how he’s feeling even if those feelings are as complicated as my own.

Part of me wonders if I should say something, test the waters, as they say.

Part of me wonders if I should keep my big my mouth shut for once and maintain the status quo.

All of me hopes that he has feelings that at least somewhat resemble my own and that he would want to explore them together–both of us knowing full well that this would be a terrible idea, but one that is full of potential for greatness.

I Found A Cure For the Mr. Teacher Blues

His name is Mr. Professor.

I met Mr. Professor this past Saturday, but we were both out with other people. The entire evening I was distracted by his intensity, imagining what it would be like to get my hands on him. Little did I know, he was thinking the same exact thing. He texted me the following morning to tell me so. Well, he told me that and so much more. We ended up texting back and forth most of the day and making plans to hang out just the two of us.

When I say texting back and forth, I should probably expand upon that and tell you that these texts mostly outlined the things we wanted to do to each other. Now, I’ve never been a huge fan of sending dirty texts…well that’s not entirely true. I’ve always been a fan of receiving them, but I’ve never been good at replying to them. Suffice it to say that this guy found a way to bring that out in me. I’m a lover of words in every sense, so using them erotically gets me in a way that few other things to do. Mr. Professor has a way with these words which should really come as no surprise. And I quote:

I’m a poet. Fucking poetically means ‘fucking is a dirty poem.’ Words are the sexiest things there are. So few know their erotic power during sex.

And did he ever follow through on that promise.

He started by cooking me an amazing dinner–lamb soup with rice (cooked properly) and spinach sauteed with garlic. It was the yummiest meal that I had in weeks. And it was just a prelude to all of the yummy things that would soon follow. An hour of tension building with sweet kisses, hand holding, and light touching and teasing. Getting to know each other–our backgrounds, where we come from, what our families are like. Laughing, sighing, and creating a need for one another that only the other could satisfy.

One thing lead to another, as these things often do, and alas we were in his bed getting to know one another on an extremely erotically charged level–one that I’m not sure I’ve ever experienced before. But by the time we moved on to round two, I was quite familiar with this particular brand of sex. Quite familiar with my desire to want it again.

I shared with you that I know I have a thing for teachers, but Professors??? Who knew? The power, the intelligence, the sexiness of imparting knowledge is almost more than I can handle. But I will admit that what turns me on the most is knowing that he is standing before a room of undergrads who are all thinking the same way about him. I’m positive that there are at least a handful of students that he teaches that want to get their hands on him, but I know (with smug reassurance) that while they are fall picturing him naked, he’s attempting to control his fantasy of having sex with me. I know this because he told me so. I know this because he told me he had to think of nothing but my hands yesterday lest he not be able to handle the anticipation of the thoughts that were attempting to take over.

I will definitely be doing this again. And again.

The Case of the Dating Doldrums

I’m feeling kind of blah towards dating right now.

I told The Ginger (who isn’t really a Ginger, but his beard is red) that I just wanted to be friends. I felt kind of bad about it. He just moved here a few months ago so he doesn’t have many friends, which explains why he was texting me constantly. He’s a super sweet guy, but I don’t find him terribly attractive. That, and the sex was mediocre. It wasn’t bad at all, but it wasn’t anything to write home (or my blog) about.

Frenchie is still around, but only every now and again. He’s a Quantum Physicist at a nearby prestigious university and he travels a lot. He goes all around the country and the world conducting research and giving lectures. I actually like that he travels so much because it helps keep things casual between us which is exactly what I’m looking for at this this point in time. Thus far, he wins the competition for the best date. He took me to this restaurant that I’ve wanted to try for a long time. It didn’t disappoint and neither did he. Afterward we checked out a couple bands a bar a couple doors down. Dinner and dancing gets me every time. Plus he has a knack for selecting the perfect background music for hooking up—a talent that is much appreciated by me.

The Actor is also still around, but I haven’t seen much of him lately. I had company in town for the past week and then I got sick so I’ve been avoiding him in an effort to not spread my germs. I think we’re supposed to hang out this weekend though. He is super sweet and affectionate—both of which I like.  However, every time we make out, I walk away looking like my face got in a fight with a porcupine. Not a pleasant sensation. We haven’t had sex yet, but I will say that he is AMAZING at other things and just leave it at that.

Obviously, I haven’t heard from Mr. Teacher since our awkward run in. I’m debating texting him just to see how he is doing, but I haven’t done it yet. I figure I will give it another two weeks and then see how I feel. I don’t want to come across as desperate, but I do want him to know that I’m still interested. I’ve yet to find where those two points meet. Honestly, I’m hoping that they meet at a point that scores me another date. Maybe more?

I think I’m experiencing a case of the Dating Doldrums.

I want to go out and meet new boys, but maybe I have unrealistic expectations. I want that WOW! factor. I want the butterflies and the feeling of anticipation for the next time I see him. Right now, no one really seems to be doing that for me. I want the desire to rip his clothes off and then stay in bed for hours just talking and getting to know each other. Does that even exist or is that just something I’ve invented in my head as a direct result of watching too many romantic comedies? Am I trying too hard? Or not enough?

I was warned that this dating thing wouldn’t turn out to be everything that it’s talked up to be. And I think I’m starting to get that. Each guy that I meet has so many great qualities, but none of them have everything that I’m looking for. Is it even possible to find everything that I’m looking for in one person? I am constantly comparing these men to my ex-husband. Not so much as people, but more so the dynamic between us. I mean, at one point I thought my ex-husband was the end-all, be-all. I did marry him, after all. I over-analyze the connection that I share with these boys. Could it be more? Should it be more? Are they just duds? Maybe I’m the dud?

Or is it simply a matter of time?

Perhaps that line I should be looking for isn’t the one between desperation and genuine interest, but rather the fine one between good and good enough.

I’m leading the crusade for the refusal to settle. But maybe, in a way, we all settle in the end. If I choose to throw that possibility out the window then I am left with two possibilities:

  1. I will be forever alone.
  2. I will find the man that is perfect for me.

I don’t think I’m quite ready to give up on my quest for the latter option. In the meantime, I suppose I will just bask in the depths of my doldrums knowing full well that what goes down must come up. So what if that statement defies the laws of gravity. I’m the one making up the rules now.

(click photo for source)

(click photo for source)

Act 1: Hot For Teacher

I don’t know about you, but there is something about male teachers that just really gets to me…in a good way. I have this fantasy of screwing a hot teacher in his classroom on his desk. After school hours, obviously. While that may or may not actually happen, the idea of dating a teacher is still extremely appealing to me. Maybe it’s my bleeding heart or maybe it’s just that I find a man in a tie (a man who would otherwise not be caught dead in a tie) super attractive. It could be the idea of the over-worked, over-dedicated man who is so passionate about his job and his students. Or it could be that I’m simply attracted to intelligent men and something about being an English or History teachers screams “I’m well-educated and can carry on an intellectual conversation.”

Couple that with good taste in music, beer, and books…I am sold. Bonus points go to the teacher with good taste who can also play guitar. He would have me in his bed before he could even blink his gorgeous blue eyes. If it sounds like I am talking from experience, it’s because that’s exactly where I’m talking from: the hot teacher who stole I willingly gave my dating-after-marriage-virginity.

I met Mr. Teacher during the very brief period in time in which my marriage was open. He was my highest match on OK Cupid and our first date was great. I was beyond nervous because I hadn’t been on a date in over 10 years! I turned down a dinner invitation because it just felt too likely that I would embarrass myself that way. Instead, I counter offered with meeting for drinks of the alcohol variety.

Side note: I never accept dinner on a first date. It’s always drinks or coffee. It’s mostly a personal preference, but the idea of sharing dinner with someone who I have zero chemistry with sounds simply dreadful. Drinks or coffee allows me to make a fast escape should I feel so inclined.

We met in a bar downtown and I, of course, was running a few minutes behind so he was already waiting in the bar when I walked in. To say I was floored by his level of hotness would be an understatement. I had heard so many stories of people meeting on the internet only to be disappointed that they looked nothing like their pictures had promised. Mr. Teacher far exceeded the expectations his profile pictures had set. I was instantly smitten.

We had a drink at the bar we met at and then walked over to another bar where we played  a game of pool and had another drink. Then he asked me if I would like to come back to his place where the drinks were free and we could control the music. I hesitated for a moment while the following thoughts ran through my head:

“He’s obviously inviting you back to his place because he wants to hook up–rule #1 is no hooking up on the first date.”

“What if I follow him back to his house and he murders me and cuts me up into tiny, unrecognizable pieces?”

“What if he gets the wrong impression. I’m not that kind of girl.”

“Or am I? I certainly don’t want the night to be over. He’s super hot. I’m very attracted to him. If his arms look that good with a shirt on, I can only imagine how good they look with it off.”

So, in a very uncharacteristic move, I said yes. I said yes because I wanted to find out where this night could go. I said yes because when he hugged me upon meeting, I felt a rush of attraction unlike anything I had felt in sometime. And I said yes because at that point I was so turned on that I’m pretty sure the word “no” had erased itself from my vocabulary.

Best. Decision. Ever. I followed him back to his place and we has barely popped open the tabs of our Bohs before we were making out on his couch. Eventually, we took the party upstairs to his bedroom where we hooked up, but didn’t have actual sex. To date, it was the hottest hook-up of my life. It even beats subsequent hookups with the same guy. Probably because we were essentially strangers who were equally attracted to one another in casual agreement that our interactions would never go further than hooking up. After all, you must remember that I was still married at the time, albeit in an open marriage.

I drove home that night on cloud nine. But when I got home I was quickly brought back down to Earth–The X no longer wanted an open marriage which meant that I would no longer be able to see Mr. Teacher. I awoke the following morning to a text from Mr. Teacher saying how much he has enjoyed the night before and that he couldn’t stop thinking about how much I turned him on. I replied by telling him that the feeling was mutual, but I was no longer in an open marriage and I wouldn’t be able to see him anymore. I deactivated my OKC account and that was that….

….Until The X and I decided to separate about 6 weeks later. Upon reactivating my OKC account, I received a text from Mr. Teacher inquiring about what was going on. I filled him in on the situation and we decided to meet up again. And again. And again. And a few more times after that. I quickly realized that I was kind of beginning to fall for this guy. The last thing that I wanted was to fall for ANY guy right after my marriage had just fell apart. Which, is why it’s probably for the best that he seems to have fallen off the face of the Earth. One day his OKC account had been deleted and he didn’t return the text I sent asking if everything was okay. I decided not to send a follow-up text figuring he most likely received the first one I sent and if he wanted to get in touch with me then he would.

Who knows what happened? Maybe he started dating someone. Although one would hope he’d at least have the courtesy to tell me if this is the case. Maybe he tired of dating and hooking up. I certainly hope it wasn’t something more tragic, but chances are that I’ll probably never know. And I’m okay with that. I’ve chosen to look back at those experiences and appreciate them for what they were. I benefited from having a very positive first foray back into the dating world. And I definitely benefited from his amazing body! Maybe I’ll hear from him again one day–I haven’t deleted his number just yet. Or maybe I won’t. Either way, any men I choose to sleep with in the future certainly have a lot to live up to.

But by the same token, any other man has a lot to live up to in terms of intellectual prowess, guitar playing skills, songwriting skills, sense of humor, the ability to send dirty texts, the talent to turn me on (did I already mention that???), and the capacity to keep me intrigued and wanting more. However, whoever that man turns out to be, he’ll have at least one thing going for him that Mr. Teacher doesn’t…I’ll actually know what the hell happened to him.

Besides, most people have desks these days, right?