Part 1 here.
So now I had a nice little thing going with Boy I Slept With, whom some of you might remember from the early days of damelo, when I called him that to differentiate from Boy I’m in Love With. Of course everything was not simple, because you know, first time, not understanding casual sex or friends with benefits, hugely insecure etc. BSW and I managed to meet every couple of weeks, have conversation and dinner and, on one memorable occasion, lunch because I ducked class only to be yelled at by classmate later who said you can always have sex but CLASS!! IT ONLY HAPPENS ONCE!!*
Then, sometime in April the next year, I was out dancing with my salsa friend and this rather hot man asked me to dance and proceeded to talk to me in broken English until I spoke to him in Spanish, and I discovered he was part Colombian and part Cuban and that’s where the Latino Love really began. The man could move and he could flatter me and make me feel like the centre of the universe and oh my GOD was he good in bed. No, really. I might need a minute here. Yaiby taught me a lot about sex and the ways it works. In fact he taught me something I have come back to now after a long and wandering road, but that you’ll only find out at the end =D He was in my house often and we saw each other nearly every day. He kept saying he’d learn to speak English and come to India to ask for my hand–which made me giggle because well I was never going actually date him and he didn’t really want to date me either. But we played at it and it was lovely. Summer in Central Park helped.
That is when I began to relax about sex a bit, and about myself. I will always be grateful to him because he made me really feel sexy and attractive, for the first time in my life. For the first time there was someone who literally couldn’t keep his hands off me–something I’d been mournfully watching happen to my friends for years. After that I have never doubted my attractiveness, and New York only helped solidify that. Course there are other issues but those belong in that lost loves post. I also realized I could do this casual thing, and then I proceeded to do it. Quite a bit. Even after I returned to India, where I was so sure I’d never get laid again I bet a Venezuelan friend I’d buy her a ticket to visit if I did. And then I did. Often.
Of course the one thing that stuck in my head was that I had never slept with a desi. Like a real desi, one born and raised in India. FMB didn’t count–not least because he’s a bit of a nympho ahem–and neither did the friend I got drunk and hooked up with who grew up in Africa. My first desi was BBot. Yup really. He and I began as casual, where I gave in to him because I couldn’t say no, even though I knew I wouldn’t be able to do casual because we fit so well together and I liked him so much I’d fall in love with him and then there would be hell to pay. Maybe I realized on some level that he didn’t really know how to do casual too and maybe this was just his way of dealing with me and my eye-popping (and now hilarious) list of past sexual partners. Anyway, we know how that went.
So, at this point, my philosophy about sex went like this:
- There is nothing wrong with casual sex–no one is a bad person for doing it
- It is possible to have great sex without love, and sometimes more fun in the doing (a long way from sex without love is dirty…)
- I could not have casual sex with someone I liked
- Monogamy does not imply fidelity
Then, as we all know, I broke up with BBot. After a year and a half of fairly happy monogamy and rather excellent sex I was sort of cut adrift. And even though I broke up with him, I needed to heal. I also decided to get proactive about getting married, and we all know how that turned out ahem. I ended up on OKC after years and somehow, suddenly, it was like a dam burst! Suddenly, I didn’t care. I didn’t want conversation, I didn’t want friendship, I didn’t want love or affection or tenderness. I just wanted to get laid. And, thanks to Yaiby’s foundation, I went out there and I got laid. Sometimes I look back and cringe at some of the people I slept with. But I know I had fun when it happened, and that it was something I needed to do. Then there are others I know I am glad I hooked up with but I can’t help but wish it had turned out differently–like CB. Some, like The Architect, turned out to be far more complicated than I imagined, and in hindsight I know I handled them wrong. And so passed a good 8 months of girlpower fuck you relationships.
My philosophy about sex became very simple at this point:
1. Sex is good. Have it. Use condoms.
And here ends the second part. =D
*There’s a post here about attitudes to education and fun against socioeconomic and country backgrounds, so remind me someone.
Part 3 here.