Sex And The Single White Sociopath: A Shameless Journey of Better Understanding Sex, Society and Stigma

STOP: Any and all family members or judgmental shit bags that are easily offended, I urge you to close this browser and go watch Glenn Beck

The stories you are about to read are real. For the protection of parties involved and to keep my parents from killing me, I have left all names and personal information to the imagination.



Let’s talk about sex, baby.
Let’s talk about you and me.
Let’s talk about all the drunk nights this summer that you drank too much Fireball and woke up next to handcuffs and chocolate syrup, with no sort of recollection of the name of the person next to you or what had happened.

But most importantly, let’s talk about people like myself (narcissists), who are, let’s just say, “late to the game”. Those of us that have been one half of an old sex-less married couple since we were eighteen. In my personal experience, sex sort of became a thing you just did to make your partner feel closer to you (because you’re allegoric to vulnerability and communication, at least that’s how my psychiatrist worded it). All the while, coming to find out that apparently sex can be fulfilling, empowering and actually something to make you feel good.

I didn’t grow up in a house where the human body or sexual health was taboo or anything. I’m just kind of a left-brain when it comes to any sort intimacy and have always found the idea of sex to be something you do when you’re in love, to show your partner that you love them and shit. I never really got too much more out of it than that.  But as I get older and I’m meeting new people and my mind is expanding on exactly all of the possibilities that are out there, I seem to think that it’s time to open up and do some exploring. Or sexploring, in this case.
Which raises the ultimate question(s):
What is “normal”? What is sexy? What is degrading? What is “too weird”? What is “too far”? What works for you?

Where do we draw the line when defining who we are as sexual beings?

Out and proud.

My name is Katie, I am twenty four years old, and I have never had a one night stand. That doesn’t mean I’m against it, I’ve just never been confident enough to put myself in such an adventurous situation. However, I have had some interesting experiences with the men I’ve been with. For instance, my first evening spent with a man after my most recent break up was far beyond an experience. In all honesty, I was still kind of grasping for straws trying to identify to that beautiful theory you always hear women talk about after going through a separation, about how they’ve never been so sexually empowered and they’re taking back their vaginas and yada yada yada. Basically just a slap in the face with how fucking quickly they had figured it all out. As I said, I was TRYING to identify with these women. But truthfully, I hadn’t figured it out. And some might even say that I still haven’t figured it out. Even going on my sixth month of singledom.
To which I say: Dude, fuck off. I’m working on it.

Anyway, back to this guy. So, I’m twenty four. He was slightly older than I am, and quite frankly one of those guys that I had always seen with other women and, been like- wait, you know when you see a guy (or girl) that is kind of a whore, but it’s still a little bit intriguing? Like, you think to yourself, ‘shit. I bet they’re amazing in bed.’
I can’t be the only one. And if I am, believe me, I learned my lesson. And without revealing too much, was sorely disappointed. (And not in the ironic way)
Well, that’s what he was in my eyes. Definitely a giant step down from my typical man-type of a bright, intellectual, gentleman. So, to say that his “bad boy” persona, if you will, was more than mildly intriguing, would be a bit of an understatement. And despite everyone around me telling me to stay far away from him, I had been convinced from his actions over the course of the past few months that they all had the wrong idea and he was a changed man, so on and so forth. Anyway, we had been “talking” for a few months. Sleeping in the same bed a handful of times, hanging out fairly often, but with me being the giant cock-tease and overall waste of orifice that I am notorious for, it never exceeded some sweet French kissing action and a little dry-humping from time to time. I like to know that a guy is going to still want me after I make the call to have sex with him. What’s up, maturity? How are you?
So, in true ‘Kg Fresh’ fashion, I had planned on giving it up to him some time around the time I actually accomplished the whole thing, but knew that in order to actually go through with the fucking, there would need to be about 6 vodka-waters involved.
(Again, with the maturity)
But I did. I even threw in a few shots of Rumpleminze for good measure. When we finally did make the trek back to his house to, what I felt was to de-flower me (for the 5th time). He wasted no time. I was already seeing about two of him, so when he wanted to make it like a show for me to watch, I was already dry-heaving and second guessing the entire thing in my mind. But alas, continued entertaining the charade, mostly due to the fact that I liked him and assumed this was protocol in today’s ever-changing sex scene.
He told me he wanted to go down on me, while I was standing up and still in my dress. I was like, “Oh. Okay. This is weird. Oh. Okay. Yeah. That’s nice…totally. Uh… look at the wall, look at the wall”
I’m so used to faking an orgasm, that I just assumed this would be no different.
(But while we’re on subject. Is it even possible to achieve orgasm while you’re standing up? I mean, men can have an orgasm while they’re taking a shit. So that question was entirely geared towards women. I’ll give you all a minute to think about it)
Meanwhile, I’m earning an Academy Award over here while he’s  fearlessly diddling away like some sort of squirrel in one of those acorn hide-y hole things in trees. I know, I’m filled with sexy analogies.
Once I lied my way into convincing him he’d done a sufficient job, he stands up and informs me that we are now going to move to the intercourse part of the evening. A little formal, but I can appreciate a man that knows what he wants and isn’t such a…. oh, how do I say, submissive little bitch? Yeah. That.
Being that I’m such a dominant person in my every day life, I can especially appreciate a little assertiveness from a man in the bedroom. So. Well, we did the sex….. And it was alright…. Much like the life of Brittany Murphy, over far too soon. But a solid performance.

Now, I know I have really only been with men that tell me they love me, but isn’t it at least a little customary to cuddle after you’re done fucking? Because that’s what I was raised to believe. Because this is America. And because I’m a fucking lady.
But when I made reference to attempt such activity, he politely informed me he “would”, but he “didn’t love cuddling” because “It makes people catch too many feelings”.
I mean, could I be any luckier? Talk about making me feel like the Belle of the fucking ball.
As I laid there in complete and total dissatisfaction and confusion, I began to wonder,
‘Is this not normal? I thought he liked me? Do people not cuddle anymore?’
I know that guys lie to girls to get them into bed, but that had never happened to me before. And actually entertaining the idea that he was one of those guys, and I, me, the smartest woman to ever wear a tube top, was wrong? No. I couldn’t accept that. And it’s not like I don’t respect myself and would ever knowingly put myself in a position to be made to feel like I was less than the man I was spending time with, let alone sleeping with. So this entire thing was blowing my poor little narcissistic mind. So, I went back to the theory that maybe people just don’t do that anymore. I guess it is a little intimate, but I mean we did just have sex…. It was very confusing. But again, you live and you learn. This experience will in no way define me as a woman, nor will it discourage me from pursuing any kind of sexual venture in the future.
And as a direct result of this experience, thus became the catalyst of a 2 month long quest for answers. And thanks to all the help from my friends, followers, peers and even some family members (cousins, sisters, etc. Get your minds out of the gutter, people), I came to the conclusion that I am not the only wretched soul pondering these questions. But with the very obvious absence of help from society and the lack of an open dialogue about the existence of sex without love, without it being demeaning, this was much more difficult than I had ever anticipated. The entire search led me to this intoxicatingly infuriating horizon of grey.

“A key that can open many locks is called a master key, but a lock that can be opened by many keys is a shitty lock”

In 2014, I should be able to proudly claim my sexuality and not feel any kind of stigma or shame for not wanting to be a housewife, or a mother, or even a girlfriend. Why is George Clooney so publicly canonized for focusing solely on his career, but never being shy to admit his love for sex, but for a woman, it’s slutty?
And you get the, “sex is so much better when you’re in love, you should just wait”. I’m sorry, I’ve been in love. I’ve spent all of my adult life being in love, and I shouldn’t feel chastised for wanting to embrace my independence and focus on where my career is going. It’s one of the most enraging double standards out there.
And please understand, this topic never even registered to me until recently. I was always one of those women that just assumed if you weren’t in a relationship, you weren’t having sex, and if you were, it was not to be talked about. Like, what? What is this, 1956? That’s an asinine way to view something that is supposed to be so natural and healthy. This chauvinist outlook we’ve so willingly adopted needs to go. I think as long as you feel safe, respected and satisfied about who you’re sexually active with, it should be celebrated. I hope that as thought provoking as this may be for you, you become aware of what a twisted stigma that is, and that we should all try to phase it out.

Back to the sex. Like the actual sex. More importantly, for people who have only been with one or two people in their lifetime, or thought they found their soulmate, and now find themselves single; and all while trying to grieve and move forward with their lives, find focus and solace in wanting success in other avenues. Primarily, coming to the point in the ‘moving on’ stages that they realize they miss sex, and not with the person they were tied to. How do they navigate what they might like in the bedroom, when they’ve only experienced one specific type of sex? How can they accomplish exploring new things and new people without the guilt or shame often times attached to such recreational activity?

Which brings us to: What are people into these days? What’s cool? What’s not? What’s “the norm”? With things like internet porn, MTV, romantic comedies, Ludacris songs and that weird uncle, it’s hard to decipher between what’s normal and what isn’t. I mean. Whips, chains and handcuffs can only get you so far. But what about if it doesn’t turn you on? Is that alright? Can I still sing ‘What’s Your Fantasy’?

After sharing my heroing story of humiliation with those around me, I began to understand that there are a lot of people like that (mostly sociopaths and misogynists, but you get the idea). So I asked for their personal recants of their fuck tales. Here’s some of my favorite excerpts.

“One time, in college, I decided it would be cool to have a threesome with my boyfriend and best friend at the time. It was kind of hot and really fun when we first started, but as soon as they started fucking, I punched her in the face. I did not like it and I do not want to do it again..”

“…and I was all, dude, I’ve never had a one night stand before. Maybe this is how it’s supposed to be. So I let him tie my hands to the corners of the bed frame. I tried to get into it the best I could. I didn’t want him to think I was boring….”

“So, I brought this girl home from the bars. She was super into me and it was really obvious what was about to go down. So we got right to it. The sex was really fun. I was super into it and her. And it seemed like she was having fun, but then after like 9 minutes, she pushed me off of her and just told me to jerk myself off and she was going to do the same. It was so awkward. It seemed like it would be hot for a minute, but it wasn’t.”

“…she had been talking to this dude for a while. But we were in college, so they both really just wanted to fuck. When she finally got the balls to invite him over, he came toting his iPad. She was like, “uhhh. What?”, to which he replied, “I have a sex playlist. I can’t have sex without it”. She tried to contain her laughter and said okay. He insisted on playing ‘Rude Boy’ by Rihanna on repeat. We proceded to call him Rude Boy for the rest of his time at K-State.”

“He only wanted me to be on top. And he demanded that I pretend to be an older woman taking his virginity. That can’t be normal, right?”

“..I really liked him, but as soon as he told me he wanted to borrow my vibrator for a minute, and I made the realization that it was not to use on me, I decided that it probably wasn’t going to work out.”

“…and despite my vagina looking like that part from Jumanji, you know, the part where the vines start growing out of the walls and grabbing people? Well despite that, I said, ‘fuck it’ and proceded to let him place his weiner in me. As I was on top, probably slicing open his stomach with my vagina, he decides to tell me, “just so you know, I’m kind of a freak. So if you have to pee, you don’t even have to tell me.” Needless to say, I pretended my friend got in a car crash and I got the hell out of dodge.”

“She told me she liked dirty talk, which I could handle. But then she asked me to hit her. I like being choked and choking girls, but I just couldn’t bring myself to hit her.. Do other guys hit girls during sex?”

“One time I was banging this girl, and I was fucking her and then pulling out and she would suck my dick (you know, porn style), and I didn’t realize she was on the rag until when we were done and she had blood on her mouth. I was super freaked out and she goes, “sorry. I’m into that”. I wasn’t into it…”

“This girl would not let me go down on her. At all. She was my girlfriend for months and she gave me head all the time. I began to feel like kind of an asshole. Ironically, one night I got hammered and finally opened up about how I just wanted her to feel as good as she makes me feel. And she told me she doesn’t want me to go down on her unless I’m only going to pay attention to her asshole…… I tried it and I know other dudes like it, but I could not get into it and we broke up 4 days later.”

“…why did my ex cry after every time we had sex?”

Why, people? Why?
How did we get like this?
IS this normal?

How can we wade through the bullshit the media projects to us as what’s expected of us to get to what makes us feel comfortable and satisfied? Between Judy Blume and Lena Dunham, I don’t know what to do with my hands, let alone my vagina.  I feel like it’s probably “normal” to have these questions. I just want to answer them in a way that will benefit me in the long run and leave me feeling satisfied and looking back on the situations fondly. I don’t necessarily want a slew of meaningless hook-ups, but I also don’t want to let my fears, inhibitions and overall prudish sensibility keep me from having a healthy and fulfilling sex life. Which I think is possible, even if you’re not in a relationship. How I’m able to go about that, I haven’t exactly figured out yet. But I’m open to the hypothetical situations and am going to try my best to embrace change. At the same time, I can’t seem to figure out why there’s not more information put out into the world about being able to have sex outside of being in love. Like, I get it. I’m out here fighting on the front lines for those of us who are trying to be more career oriented and god forbid don’t want to be defined by our relationship status on Facebook. Now, don’t misinterpret what I am saying. I don’t believe all people who are in relationships are in them because of Facebook. But I do believe that a lot, if not most women our age feel significantly less validation as women when not in a relationship. And I’m shooting for the opposite here.

When I started this, I was really only planning on using my personal escapades and what I learned from them. But when I made mention of potentially using the experiences from all of you, I was overwhelmed with response. And for that, I thank you.

So, back to the initial inquiry: In sex, are our only options being “in love” or being “a slut”?
Answer: Not anymore

Peace, love and stop saying ‘epic’

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