I haven't had sex in a really really long time. If I were to calculate the exact length of time for you, my eyes would well up with tears, and none of us wants that. (They might anyway, 'cause that's what's going down these days. Don't say I didn't warn you.)
I hadn't even had sex with my damn self, which is weird, because I'm a pretty easy lay. My life situation right now is such that people are pretty much always around me, none of whom want to see or hear me sprawled in my bed, wantonly having my way with myself.
But the other day I decided I should probably have a damn orgasm--for health reasons, if nothing else. I locked the bathroom door and started drawing a bath. I slid down to the spigot end of the tub to angle myself so the water stream could go where I needed it to go.
I don't know if you've ever had sex with a water stream but if you're a woman, it's kind of a sure thing. Usually this would have been a two-minute and out kind of deal. But for some reason, it took just... so long. Perhaps it was because I was slippery and kept sliding away from the water that was supposed to be fucking me. Or perhaps it was that I had become so divorced from my passion that I actually was doing this "for health reasons."
I finally came for no other reason than I was determined, which, for the record, is quite low on the list of arousing thoughts. I don't remember if it was even good or not. It was just something I needed to have happen that did. Check.
The next day, I woke up and my legs were completely sore. Probably taking a long walk in flip-flops, I thought. Note to self: wear more supportive shoes. For health reasons.
Later I realized, Crap, it was the bath fuck. I had been clenching my legs so desperately, for so long, trying to have that lame-ass orgasm, that I, like, hurt myself.
For the next few days, my sore legs reminded me of several things, none of them horribly pleasant:
1. I had sex with water.
2. I had unsatisfying sex with water.
3. Though I consider myself to be in fine shape (Mighty fine! How it is that am I sex-less?) if there were ever a situation in which I had to do some sort of under-spigot competitive clenching, I would not end up on the winner's podium.
but worst,
4. During one of California's worst droughts in history, I had wasted water.
I'd like it think it wasn't entirely wasted. But if you want to report me, here's the web site for the Long Beach Water Department. There you can find several categories of water wasting such as "watering (with potable water) on a day other than Monday, Thursday or Sunday." I'll leave it up to you to figure out my specific violation.
xoxox
jill
(photo source)