Impromptu

While reading the lovely Amalthea's latest post (and first foray into sex blogging, huzzah!), I couldn't help but be reminded of the joys of impromptu sex. In fact, it's something I didn't realize I'd been missing until I was reading her words, feeling rather transported into her space. (Indicative of the quality of the story, dear.)

As of late, the sex I've been having has been in a sense planned. Not in the sense that my partner(s) and I know exactly what we're going to do or how long it's going to take - quite the opposite in many cases - but rather that sex occurs at very regular times in very regular places. Sex happens at the end of the day. It's the last thing to occur before I (and sometimes my partner, although that depends on the person and the situation) fall asleep. There's nothing wrong with this. Indeed, I'd be the last to complain about my sex life as of late. This summer was fabulous for many reasons, and the regularity and quality of sex I was having was absolutely a primary factor. I've only had sex once since leaving, and while that was thoroughly enjoyable as well, it was rather predictable, concluding a long night of bar hopping.

I miss the kind of sex Amalthea describes. Where you go into it, well, not thinking you're going into it. Just sitting on the couch with a partner, for example, when a simple kiss turns into something more. And then you lead them by hand into the bedroom, or maybe stay there on the couch. The afternoon sun streaming through the window and illuminating your bodies, clothes maybe strewn on the floor or maybe not even entirely removed. It's not selfish, not presumptious, not complicated, and entirely beautiful. Then maybe, like Amalthea, you end laughing as you both try to stand up, legs weak and wobbly. Then carry on with your day, still a little flushed but very happy to be alive and where you are with who you're with.

I can't remember the last time I had this kind of sex.

I think, in large part, this is the kind of sex that comes most easily to those in a significant-other kind of relationship. Where perhaps you live together, or spend time together outside the bedroom and at times other than the darkest hours of night. I'm sure this isn't restricted to couples, but I can't see a whole lot of other situations where this might be possible. I suppose it also requires some level of privacy, or self-sufficiently, as some (not all, I know) people wouldn't necessarily want to have sex in a living room shared with several roommates (then again, some certainly would, but that's a different entry and a different desire being filled).

I think the last time I did anything like this was probably when I was with my Ex. (Yes, with a capital E... the one I was with for five years.) I suppose the length of time and how comfortable we were with one another allowed this kind of encounter. And we were very young, still living with our parents, but we would often have our respective houses to ourselves. Hmm. And this is the first time I've thought about sex with him in a long, long time. It's a strange sensation. Because I don't remember details, or sensations. I know it happened, but all the details are fuzzy. My guess is that's a self-preservation mechanism. Or maybe those memories served their purpose and are now necessarily fading into obscurity.

This entry has taken a very different direction than I had thought it would. I suppose that happens sometimes. I'm not even sure it really has a point. I guess I'm just realizing that there are perhaps unintended consequences of this liberal, free-spirited sexuality I'm living right now, bucking monogamy and traditional relationships and what not. I'd be lying if I didn't say that my experiences thus far have occasionally left something to be desired - emotionally, at least. I don't think that something missing is unattainable from this setup I'm living presently, but I think it will take a good deal more work to find and secure. But so it goes, I suppose.