Last night, I had a really great conversation with my friend Adam. I mentioned on my about page that “I find that I can talk to him about a lot of things.”

Well, let me tell you something about me and Adam. Adam and I share what is probably the coolest friendship in the history of the world. Adam thinks it’s because we’ve dated in the past, so all that sexual tension is just gone. Poof. As he put it, we can talk about anything at all without him thinking “I want to do her.” It’s pretty damn cool.

Many of our conversations end up revolving around sex. It’s ironic because as a couple, we never got farther than cuddling and making out. There weren’t any opportunities for anything else.

I think everyone needs that friend they can talk to about anything, and even more so when it comes to talking about sexual themes. Someone who is open-minded, won’t judge, and contributes with his or her own thoughts and experiences about sex. And there has to be trust. No worrying about if said friend will turn around and repeat what you just said to everyone he or she knows. Adam is one of those friends for me. I don’t know why I can trust him so much more than the rest of my friends, or why these things are so much easier to talk about with him, but I’m not complaining.

Last night, we covered a lot of sexual topics. We talked about hooking up, hand jobs, bras… the list goes on and on. Over the course of it all, I ended up telling him something that I had never told anyone in my life. It was something that had been in the back of my mind for a while, but that didn’t become explicitly clear to me until I talked with him last night. Don’t get too excited; I’m not going to publish it here. It’s not something that even needs to be said, but telling it to Adam helped me to be a lot more honest in our conversation.

I was actually so astounded by the conversation we had last night that I kept thinking about it again throughout the day today. It’s not that I haven’t had such conversations with him (or others) before, but it reminded me just how much I can trust him and how much I open up when I talk with him.

What I think I’m trying to say is that I’m grateful to have a friend like Adam, and I’m glad I didn’t just throw away our friendship after we stopped dating. Who says two people can’t stay friends after breaking up? Not me.

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Growing up, whenever I was curious to learn more about my body parts & how babies were made I’d ask my parents. They knew I wasn’t stupid enough to fall for “the stork” story let alone Santa Claus so they gave me the biological truth. My dad always answered, “it’s when the sperm meets the egg,” which always prompted me to ask, “…but where is the sperm & where is the egg…?” I never got an answer & I remember asking my parents quite often. I used to ask them how little humans were created at dinner, but they always gave me the same reply. They never answered my second question & told me to stop talking so I could finish my dinner.

My 7 year old self was incredibly frustrated. What the heck was sperm? I knew what an egg was; it tasted great in the morning. Contrary to my last sentence, I never thought humans were related to poultry. I knew which sex had which gamete because of my mom yet I was never told where these gametes were located nor how they met. One afternoon, I had a revelation that I thought was too crazy not to tell my mom. While she was sitting on the toilet, I went up to her & said to her, “hey mommy, when you think about it, don’t you think a boy’s private parts fit perfectly with a girl’s private parts? Kind of like a hot dog in its bun?” My mom yelled at me for saying such “rubbish” & I felt like I just said my favorite country is Barbie in a presentation to my entire class. I walked away with my head slinking low thinking to myself, “I can’t be wrong, the parts fit like puzzle pieces!”

To say the least, I was a very sheltered child. Up until the 7th grade, I never fully understood the entire concept of sex. I understood that two people got naked & made out, but I had no idea that the penis went inside the vagina. My school didn’t offer any type of sex education; a bit ridiculous considering that my parents paid $7,000 per year for it. We surprisingly weren’t taught abstinence only either. When it came to the subject of sex or science, my school fell short by 20 km.

I first got a glimpse of what sex looked like when I watched this scene from an action movie. It wasn’t some 10 second TV show sex scene, it was a softcore porn scene. It made me feel tingly & I didn’t understand what was going on down below. When I was channel surfing one night, I stumbled upon this documentary on sex. I saw maybe 5 minutes of it before I switched the channel in fear of getting caught. It was only then that I fully understood the concept of sex & where the sperm & the egg live.

Throughout my years in high school, my parents never once gave me “the talk”. Not even one slightest hint of, “Jackie, you’re going to encounter some really horny teenage boys that want to put something in you, but you shouldn’t…because you’ll get Chlamydia & die.” Had they actually sat down & talked to me about sex, I wouldn’t have gave my virginity away to someone my friends nicknamed, “the pedophile”.

Don’t get me wrong, I knew full well at 15 going on 16 what sex was. I was told to save myself until I was married the way my parents did until I met Sam, the pedophile. I decided that I didn’t want to have sex until I thought I found love. Sam was my first love, first kiss, & unfortunately, my very first. I could say that he wasn’t very good in bed, that his penis was about 10-11 cm (4-4.5 inches), or that he lasted for 5 minutes, but none of those facts could erase the worst mistake of my life. I wasn’t even officially his girlfriend when we had sex–I just thought I loved him. I didn’t think he was “the one”, but I thought it was love. Shortly afterward, I realized that I didn’t love him anymore & that I deserved better. The pedophile cheated on me with several different girls over the course of 2 years, but I was too stupid & naive to leave him.

Had my parents actually been more open to talking to me about my future with boys & sex, I would’ve known better. I would’ve been able to come to my mom & tell her about the guys I liked instead of keeping my flings a secret. I only had sex with Sam once & hadn’t slept with anyone else until Justin. I told myself that I wouldn’t give myself away like that until I believed I met the guy I’d eventually marry. 3 years of celibacy later, I met Justin.

Just 2 weeks ago, my mom blatantly told me she knew I was having sex. I don’t know how she knows because it’s not like she ever caught us in the act; she probably assumed. I was speechless & let’s face it, I’m a horrible liar & I’m a bit old to be denying my sexual activity with my gorgeous man. I didn’t say anything, but neither did my mom. She didn’t give me “the talk”, she didn’t tell me to use condoms, she didn’t tell me she didn’t approve, she didn’t say anything at all. She’s lucky that I took an intro to Human Sexuality class & that I know how to baby/STI proof myself. Even though I know how to protect myself & Justin, it doesn’t mean I wouldn’t appreciate “the talk”. After all, I never got it before & I may be too old to receive it, but it’s better late than never. It’s advantageous to show your daughter that you want to make sure she’s making good choices than avoiding the topic.

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About 90% of my sex life takes place in a vehicle. That probably sounds.. weird, but both Derek and I both live with our parents and for the most part at both of our houses, someone is ALWAYS home… which leaves sex out of the question. There are random times when his parents will be gone for the night and we have have nice bed sex (having sex in tiny spaces where you’re likely to get caught five days a week gets a little cramped and sometimes hard to manage), and that’s just what happened yesterday.

His parents left yesterday around dinner time to go to a friend’s cottage, and they were going to be gone until later tonight. He told me about it a few days ago, but I then realized that he’d have to go to work at 8am (which, he will be doing every day during the week, until 6pm.. which is going to cut the time I get to see him by about half). Thankfully, he had an exam at 9 this morning, so I figured I could just stay at his house and sleep a bit, because he’d be done his exam rather quickly and then come home. He just had to go to work after he took me home, I figured around 12:30 ish because his lunch at works ends at 1:30, so he could take me home, and then get to work by 1.

So I told my parents I was staying at Dahlia’s house, when really I was at his. It was all fine and dandy (even though I was overall feeling like crap, with a sore throat and an on/off headache), watching some TV, having some nice sex (that didn’t make me feel like a sex object! hurrah!) and then going to bed. We had sex once, then went and watched TV and we went up to go to bed as he had to get up for his exam, but we ended up doing it again before we went to bed. The majority of that sex session though, was him going down on me. Literally, like a ten minute orgasm for me pretty much. So not only did I not feel like a sex object, I felt preeeeety damn good.

We’ve had sleepovers before (his parent’s were on vacation for a week in February, and he’s an only child so there was no one to worry about), but this one was.. different. Generally, we’d fall asleep cuddling right next to each other, even if it wasn’t TOO comfortable. Last night, it was just both of us sleeping where ever (in the same bed, of course) and if I did try to sleep next to him, he’d say it was too hot, roll over, etc. Geeze, can’t you just suck it up for me?

In the morning, he woke up, showered and then went downstairs to eat some breakfast before his exam. I figured he’d come up again before he left to say goodbye and what not, but the next thing I know I’m waking up an hour later and he’s gone. So I went back to bed, and finally woke up around 11. I figured okay, he should be getting home soon. So I got up, went to the bathroom, brushed my teeth and put on a bare minimum of clothing (just some underwear and one of his shirts) and went downstairs to try to find something to eat. My original plan was to make him lunch for when he got home before he had to go to work. I looked for ANYTHING that I could make, but couldn’t even find a slice of bread for some grilled cheese or something.

Before I could actually find anything, he came home (around 11:40) and said ‘Okay, let’s get going so I can go to work.’ I was a little disappointed by this, considering I thought we’d at least get A LITTLE bit of time to just hang out in the morning. I knew there was no point arguing it though, because it would inadvertently end up in another argument about how much he works and what not and I just didn’t want to deal with that. So we were driving back to my house and I was asking him how his exam went.

Apparently, after his exam him and his friends from the class went out for lunch. Okay, you want one last lunch.. understandable. Did it have to be as I was waiting for you, stuck alone at your house? Did it have to cut into OUR time that I thought we’d be getting, so that as soon as you got home, you wouldn’t be rushing out to go to work. I’m not really sure WHY it bothered me so much, but it did. I guess maybe it was that he said he wanted this sleepover SO BADLY, yet here I am, half naked and waiting for him to come home.. and he just decides to go out for lunch with his friends.

It could have been worse though, I could have found the damn bread I was looking for and had lunch waiting for him when he got home, only to have him say ‘Oh, I already ate.’ Whatever.

Now I probably won’t see him until Saturday, because he won’t give up his friday night with his friends to see me for a few hours even though he wont see me all week. Maybe I’ll just have to convince Tyler to say he can’t hang out Friday, because he told me that he’d do that for me if I wanted him to before. It sucks that his friends nicer to me than he is sometimes..

If you haven’t noticed, I like to hang out with him a lot. I don’t see the point in having a relationship with someone when you’re not going to make the effort to hang out as much as possible. And considering the fact that like I mentioned above, he’ll be working every day from 8am-6pm during the summer. He says it wont happen, but I know that every night he’ll say we can’t hang out because ‘he had a ten hour day, while I did nothing all day’ and I’ll get pissed off, and not want to hang out anyways. So it’d be nice to see him as much as possible now, but I guess that won’t happen either.

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Generally, I enjoy the fact that Derek wants sex just as much as I do. You wouldn’t think so by looking at me (apparently I just seem too innocent for sex), but I do love sex. Yesterday, I spent the day home alone as everyone was out of the house for various reasons, so I got to walk around in my underwear, shave my legs outside of the shower and just do whatever I wanted. As soon as Derek found out I was home alone though, his first question was something along the lines of “So we can fuck in your bed?”. Technically, yes.. except my bed was a mess, so it ended up being my parents bed (which is besides the point). I didn’t mind that he wanted to specifically come over and knew we would be having sex, it was the fact that he failed to tell me (until he was just about at my house) that the ONLY reason he was coming to visit me was for sex, and that he had about fifteen minutes at my house before he had to go home and leave for some family thing.

Sure, quickies are great and I love them, but way to make me feel like a sex object. I mean, I know he loves me and isn’t just using me for sex, because after a year and a half (today, actually) and the wait he went through in the beginning to even get a kiss, let alone sex.. I know he’s not in it JUST for the sex. But he is still great at making me feel that way sometimes. Especially with the fact that, as lame as this sounds.. we don’t make love anymore, or even just have sex. It’s fucking. With ass spanking (which left hand prints last night) and moaning and just.. not love making. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for that and I don’t mind the ass spanking, I just think it would be nice to actually get some damn romance once in awhile, or something more than a “why are you still wearing your clothes, we should be fucking”. I’m not asking for constant nice, gentle, loving sex every time we do it, but maybe a 20/80 ratio would be nice? Just so I know that I’m not just your sex object.

I guess I should have seen last night coming though, considering all day when I was texting him, he was asking me to send him a picture of my boobs. Clearly he was being a horn dog all day, but it’s just nice to feel appreciated, you know? Like when I had a bad day months ago, and he brought me flowers just because. Even the fact that we used to always share our subs when we went to Subway, but now he smacks my hand away if I even want a bite. I guess he’s just lucky that I love him so much.

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I had one of the most mind blowing sexings of my life yesterday. It was so amazing that it actually made me feel like a virgin again. It felt like it was the first time Justin & I ever had sex.

I was finishing up my cycle & I felt that I was a much “smaller” than usual. Don’t think I poke around my vagina all day to see how wide I can stretch it; I just noticed that when inserting my fairly tiny tampon it felt like I was inserting a 10 cm wide plastic rod. I’m not exactly the type of girl who likes to get freaky while blood is oozing out of my orifice but I didn’t expect it to reduce in size so much that a tampon would hurt. For a second I thought I had accidentally jammed one up there & had forgotten to remove it but that wasn’t the case. When I actually tried to retrieve said tampon, my own skinny index finger was too big for me & it hurt. Odd.

I hadn’t fornicated with Justin for probably a week because of ye old mother nature. It drives him insane but since I’m such an amazing girlfriend, I actually try to help ease the blue balls. However, this past week I felt as if Justin wasn’t in love with me anymore. I knew he still loved me very much but he wasn’t in love with me. He’s been a bit more reclusive & cold toward me. I tend to over exaggerate & misinterpret his emotions on the basis that I’m still getting used to actually having someone I love dearly love me back. In this case, I definitely misinterpreted his emotions, calling it a “long shot” is an understatement. More like I aimed for the stars but flung myself into the Pacific ocean instead.

Justin didn’t get any “release” from me this past week. I don’t enjoy feeling equivalent to a cheap $5 hooker when I unzip his pants & get right down to business when he doesn’t treat me with respect. Therefore, he had to use his own resources to get his rocks off. He’s well aware of how stubborn I can be about pleasuring him but I don’t see the point if he’s going to treat me like I’m just his friend with benefits & not his girlfriend. “If you treat me with respect & kiss me first, I’ll do anything you want,” I’ve said to him over & over again. I guess he thinks it’s unnecessary foreplay. I’m a girl, I can’t get wet just because you have a boner, it doesn’t work that way. I need & crave foreplay. It doesn’t have to take an hour or half of it! I just want a bit of sweet attention & then you can plow me all you want. Is that honestly too much to ask? Because making out with me is a walk in the park compared to giving a man oral. They don’t call it a job for nothing.

I went over to Justin’s to hang out with him & I wore a flattering dress for easy access. I was still convinced that the man had fallen out of love with me until we were on his bed & he repeatedly said to me, “I love you, Jackie. I love you.” That totally convinced me of how much I fail miserably at reading his emotions. Soon afterward we had one of the most passionate make out sessions that I had been craving for months. I felt like we were just dating again & the thrill of just making out with him made me hot…in my panties. We felt each other up & engaged in such a passionate act of lovemaking that it felt like we were having sex for the first time minus the awkwardness that comes with the first time. In addition, it also hurt a bit like the first time but the pain fades as pleasure fills my entire being like the warmth of a fire. Honestly–it felt as if he had told me for the first time that he knew I was the missing puzzle to make him whole.

Last night, I didn’t just fornicate with Justin, we made love. Cheeseball or not, it’s the truth. It felt like we fell in love with each other all over again.

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