‘It’s like a beast, a beast that was asleep for a long, long time. And now the beast is wide-awake and wants to be fed.’
– Dr Izzie Stevens, Grey’s Anatomy
I knew I was being unreasonable and worse, unhelpful, but it wasn’t my fault. I was talking to yet another person in the long line of stupid that was grating on my patience. Ridiculous questions after idiotic requests after meaningless referrals. Why could no one do their job properly? Was I the only one with any sense? Every encounter left me fractious and irritable. I could hear myself sighing in barely concealed frustration and marching around with a ‘don’t you dare fuck with me’ stride. I was rational enough to realise that it was unlikely that everyone around me really was a moron, but I couldn’t work out why else I was feeling so bad tempered. I’d eaten well, I’d had plenty of sleep, but I’d been feeling pissed off since I woke up…
…well, I actually hadn’t been this wound up when I woke. I’d slept so deeply that I was still lying in exactly the same position that I had settled into when I first closed my eyes. Getting home from a night shift and slipping into a warm bed next to him for a slow, sleepy fuck had proved to be the best narcotic I could find. I remember snuggling into the cosy space he had left, watching him start to dress and then, well, seven hours passed and my alarm was waking me up.
I’d wanted to wallow in reminiscence, to inhale his scent deep into my lungs and rub the sticky remains of his cum into my skin. I’d wanted to trace the memory of his touch across my body, reliving each moment in vivid detail, but I’d slept too long and there was no time and I had to leave in a rush and now I was stuck in work, surrounded by idiots, and getting more and more frustrated and, oh my gosh, no wonder I’m feeling so tense, I am ridiculously horny!
I should have recognised it sooner – sleeping in the day should only be done post-sex, curled up against a warm body with a cock nestled between my legs. Of course I was horny! But instead, the restless need worked its way under my skin to such an extent that frustration was seeping out of my pores. Once the source of this frustration was acknowledged, all it took was a fairly average orgasm and I felt back on an even keel; not nearly satisfied but certainly back in control of myself, and probably much more pleasant to work with!
But I do like that this caught me out and that my body is able to surprise me. Just as I’ve had to learn that I yawn more when I’m hungry than tired and I’m more likely to cry when I’m angry than sad, I like that I’m still learning about the physical effects of my sexual desires. It reminds me that my relationship with desire is constantly changing.
In short, I am hornier now than I have ever been before – the more sex I have, the more I need, and I’m starting to worry about the continued exponential increase! Having a sexual appetite that is able to extend beyond my thoughts and have physical effects is a relatively new phenomenon for me. I used to be able to successfully ignore my libido, although that may have been part of the problem. For too many years, I just wasn’t having enough sex and consequently I fear that my sex drive went into hibernation. I’ve worked out that at one point I’d only had sex six times in nine years, and didn’t feel like I was missing out. Academically, I knew I was, but I couldn’t feel it. My body was OK. I yearned to be loved but I felt physically satisfied. Bizarrely.
I missed intimacy and wanted to be held, but these were desires of my heart and not my body. I don’t remember my body ever aching like it does now; my cunt empty and begging to be stretched by a cock that can push deeper inside than my fingers can manage. I don’t remember feeling like my insides were twisted into such a tight cord that I desperately need to come in order to focus on anything else. I don’t remember physically yearning for specific sensations; my mouth watering at the memory of the cock that had filled it, hungering for the taste of cum on my tongue and the blinding, choking satisfaction of rubbing my nose against his belly as his cock pushes against the back of my throat. I just used to masturbate to simple fantasies of simple sex and that seemed to tide me over. It honestly seems impossible now.
Happily, the beast is now awake and getting stronger every day – I’m really enjoying feeding it after all! It’s even worth the occasional irritable day, although it is possible that the people around me would disagree, because the more I want, the more I want. Not just in volume but in variety. My fantasies are becoming more complex and more vivid, my curiosity is out of control, and oh my gosh, I’m having so much fun!
But it could so easily have been different, and was so different for such a long time. Could that explain why it never really bothered me that I was single for so long? Did I just not need sex like I do now and so wasn’t motivated to find it? And was that a protective mechanism of sorts to stop me ripping my hair out during the years of celibacy, or actually the reason I was alone? It’s an interesting question – which came first? The lack of options or lack of desire? More importantly, what if I’d never realised? My desire for more sex that eventually lead to this blogging experiment was again an academic one – I was nearly 30 and knew I must be missing out so figured I should try harder. I just as easily might not have bothered.
And that is a pretty terrifying thought…
This is really good and really interesting. I’ve had a conversation with EA a couple of times recently about what I call the ‘drought’ of my early thirties where I can count on one hand the number of times I had sex in five years. The other day he said you *will* write about this some time. I have always been quite sure I won’t. Not because I’m afraid to analyse or be honest about the why but because I just felt ashamed and embarrassed by the number. But now you’ve written this and included your own version of the stat, I feel like I should be ‘fuck it’ and more brave. Xxx
Honey as as always I enjoyed reading and I’ve been following the Hospital Doctor debate this past week. Every weekday mid morning we listen to Jeremy Vine’s BBC Radio 2 program as we ‘machine’ away in the workshop, the general public phoning in with their views has been interesting anyways all I can say is the debate ‘is out there’ and people are forming opinions 🙂
………Oh and don’t worry about your worringly high state of hornyness, think of me I ain’t gettin any at the moment 😀
:/ Sounds a little condescending, don’t mean to be, hope you had a lovely May Day Holiday 🙂
A beautifully written piece 🙂