As I hinted in my last post, I met Slutty Blonde recently.  She was the latest of almost a dozen bloggers who have had the pleasure of meeting and discovering the identity of the Unfortunate Virgin Male.  We’d been talking for a while, and then stars and schedules finally aligned one day.

I didn’t plan it this way, but it turned out to be one of the most hectic and exhausting days.  I woke up with a massive headache, compounded by the thought of my impending afternoon dance show.  Then I got a phone call with some unpleasant news: Our director had fallen ill, so I was left with the task of picking up the sound equipment, setting it up at the gig, and essentially running the entire show in addition to dancing in it.  No pressure, though.  However that meant I had to leave immediately in order to accomplish everything extra I had to do, and I left my half-eaten breakfast behind.

By the time I was finished with the gig I was quite hungry.  And running late.  When I got home I only had time to shower and change and swallow a couple of aspirins before racing out the door again.  I missed my original train into the city, so I had to drive twenty minutes away to take a train on a different branch.  I made it with just minutes to spare.  I’d briefly considered texting Slutty Blonde to take a rain check (because what I really felt like doing was crawling into bed with a plate of sandwiches), but there was no way I was going to miss this opportunity. I was very excited to meet her, and the thought of doing so cheered me greatly as the train pulled out of the station.

Thankfully the trip to and from the city went without incident.  I’d had my fill of craziness and whack-jobs during my last couple of stints in NYC, so the quiet and calm was a welcome respite.  We’d decided to meet at a coffee shop in Brooklyn, and I had no trouble finding her when I got there.  I didn’t even have to go inside; I spotted her from out on the sidewalk.  She really was that blonde.  Super blonde.  A light shining in the darkness.  Wow.

I was a bit nervous as I entered the shop and approached her.  She sat with her back to me and debated how to introduce myself.  I considered various options.  I could sneak up and yell “Boo!”  I could playfully cover her eyes with my hands and whisper a greeting into her ear. Instead I settled on introducing myself like a normal person would.  She stood up and hugged me excitedly, and what I wanted to do was put my hands on her hips and say, “I was right… you are indeed as hot in person as I thought you’d be.”  Because she was.  But I chickened out. No matter.

Once I discovered that the kitchen was closed, I suggested we bounce and head over to the pizza place across the street.  I was positively starving and in danger of becoming seriously hangry.  After a few slices of pizza I started to feel human again, and I did my best to focus on her instead of my food.  Not only was she as hot, but she was just as snarky and hilarious in person too.  She cracked me up several times and I nearly choked at one point.  We had a good time swapping stories and whatnot, but the entire time I just couldn’t reconcile her image with her blog stories.  When I told her so she said, “No, I definitely don’t look the type.”  No, she didn’t.  But it wasn’t just her, either…

After an hour and a half we parted ways.  I hugged her and gave her a smooch on the cheek, and she did the same.  Then I grinned at her figure as she sashayed down the sidewalk.  On the way home I started thinking about some of the other bloggers I’d met, and I’d had similar problems picturing them doing all the sexual things they wrote about.  Then I was horror-struck when I remembered some of the girls I’d gone on dates with.  My god… some of them could have been like Slutty Blonde and I didn’t even know it!

Maybe this is one of my problems – an inability to see girls as sexual beings.  The thing is, my introduction to girls as a teenager found them very skittish and prudish when it came to sex.  That view of them persisted through adulthood.  Until a couple of years ago I didn’t even think girls gave blowjobs.  By now I’ve read plenty of blogs to know that yes, Virginia, they do in fact get on their knees to please a man (and by golly some even enjoy it!). Except that’s just it – I’ve only heard and read about it.  I have yet to experience first-hand proof that girls engage in all sorts of kinky sex and have appetites either equal to or even surpassing that of the male gender.  It now has me questioning how I approach girls, especially after another blogger recently told me that I come off as a friend, rather than someone who’s sexually interested.

Speaking of which, coming up next is yet another story of how I met one of my fellow bloggers!

Stay tuned.


23 thoughts on “Slutty

  1. Every woman has a sexual side and no two are the same. Only the most diseased whore will jump you and do the things you’ve heard of. There are times of the month when a woman wants to be a very naughty girl. It’s your task as a man to make it happen. In my experience the quiet bookish woman are the sex kittens behind closed doors and the loud, outlandish ones are a disappointment.

  2. Somebody’s physical appearance is no indication of what kind of lover they are. If anything, sometimes the ones who are overtly sexual are hiding a lack of confidence.

    Most women turn into sex kittens when they are ovulating.

  3. We are mysterious creatures aren’t we? I find that society’s norms/expectations have pressured me into conforming to roles of loving mother, professional executive and previously good wife. Rather than sending my kids screaming to a therapist or being slut-shamed by “friends” and family, I keep my sexual side neatly tucked away except for the right man. We are all sexual creatures — some more than others. You just need to be attuned for our cues — a toss of the hair, a touch on your sleeve, a coy smile, a flutter of eyelashes. If you are fortunate enough to pick up on those cues and see us for the sensual creature we really are, then you will reap the rewards.

  4. Slutty Blonde sounds sexy…

    In other news, can’t wait for your next post and all of the things you learned about yourself thanks to that intelligent, wonderful, fantastic other blogger you met 😉 haha!

  5. I was hoping you finally became the Formerly Unfortunate Virgin Male with Slutty. I liked your post though. Although not a virgin I got a pretty late late start. If it hadn’t been for the women in my life making some sort of bold move, I’m pretty sure I’d be like you.

    I too grew up in a prudish environment. It wasn’t that there was a twisted view of female sexulality, there wasn’t any view of it. It took me a long time to figure out that they wanted it too and often they wanted it from me. This attitude most certainly shut down potential relationships and contributed to my marriage problems. It’s too bad you don’t get to work closely with women. I think the friend vibe would work out well for you. No personal experience here, but I can imagine it’s harder trying to connect with people (women) who are essentially strangers.

    • I too grew up in a rather prudish environment as well. My mom and grandma made me close my eyes whenever there was a love scene in movies (even stuff as simple as kissing scene). Like Catholics, Eastern Orthodox are very legalistic in regards “sexual decency”. My dad didn’t even really talk about the birds and the bees when I was 13. My dad was emotionally aloof, which in turn made me a bit emotionally aloof as I got older. I think religion is generally a poison when it comes to creating an irrational fear of sexuality, rather than a healthy understanding of it.

      • Not super old….25. It seems like ancient history now, but I remember always being single and having no clue what to do about it. I see that in your posts. I was lucky though. All my relationships, including my affair and marriage, were initiated by girls who I knew well and were friends with. I don’t think I would have been able to get things going on my own. I’m not sure how this helps you, but upon reflection I realize I misread a lot of signals in my youth. Maybe you are doing the same.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s