Archive | February 3, 2011

Sex hiatus may be on hiatus.

I confess.  I broke down last night and had sex with Skaterboi.  I almost made it a week.  LOL  I really was trying, but after seeing on the weather channel that Chicago was in the midst of a snowstorm, I started thinking about Manwhore and how he was probably freezing his balls off.  He doesn’t like the cold and snow anymore than I do and I found it quite satisfying and funny how karma was probably doing me a huge favor.  I’ve moved on from Manwhore and have been seeing Skaterboi for almost three months now.  What better way to assure myself of the fact that I am moving on than with a night of great sex in a nice warm hotel room with my adoring Skaterboi?

By the way, hotel sex is definitely one of the most fun things you can do.  You get to be pretty much as loud as you want to be and you usually don’t have to worry about squeaky beds (which I find very annoying).  Plus I always feel extra naughty when I get a hotel room for the night for basically no reason at all other than for a night of hot and fun sex.

So even though I didn’t last a week without sex I’m not really surprised.  I am a self-professed borderline sex addict after all, and human.

I did make one blatant mistake yesterday.  Before we met up at the hotel room we met yesterday afternoon for a late lunch.  As we were leaving and going our separate ways, me to my Substance Abuse & Driver Improvement Class (as required by the terms of my probation – thanks to my DWI) and he to do a favor for a friend, we kissed and said we’d talk later.  Then it happened.  After giving me another kiss he said “I love you.”  He’s said this before but I never really acknowledged it.  I hate not acknowledging when someone says that to me, but we haven’t even been dating three months!  So I was trying my best to just shy away from the subject completely.  I don’t know what happened or how but as soon as he said it the words “love you too” slipped slyly out of my mouth.  Shit!  As soon as I said it I realized what I had just done.  I was shell-shocked as I walked back to my car.

I really do like him, but love him?  I’m not the type to say those three little words unless I really mean it.  Was it a Freudian slip?  Maybe my subconscious is trying to tell me something.  (Insert long string of profane language here.)