Right at the beginning of our relationship-thing, One Ball and I exchanged secrets. He told me a secret. In return, I told him that I was an anonymous sex blogger. It probably wasn’t the wisest decision I’ve made this year, but I felt like I could trust him and it just kinda slipped out. He doesn’t bring it up, he hasn’t brought it up since our chat, and he won’t go looking for it (or so he says).
As a joke, apparently to gauge my reaction, One Ball told me that he’d found my blog. I lost my absolute shit, because of course I did. I would be absolutely devastated if a potential love interest ever read the words I’d put down here. It’s too raw to share, too emotional, too candid. That’s why I don’t want to put my name to it. I’ve shared my entire sex life, every person I’ve ever fucked, a literal list of everyone in my sexual and dating history. Since starting the blog, I’ve half-reviewed every sexual experience I’ve had. I didn’t mean to do that. It just happened as a result of me sharing my thoughts. But would I want One Ball to find out that I didn’t actually like the way he kissed me all of the time? No, of course I wouldn’t. He doesn’t need to know that his kisses were too sloppy at the start but I’m finally teaching him the ways I like. Just like The Guy I Couldn’t Get Rid Of doesn’t need to know that I couldn’t stand the way that he kissed me, either. And that he had no actual rhythm between the sheets.
I wouldn’t want Big Love to know just how much he hurt me, or how long I ended up pining for him. I certainly wouldn’t want him to find out that he was probably one of the best lovers I ever had. Or how much I really stalked his Facebook page. Or how much I wished all of his relationships would fail and he’d come running back to me with his tail between his legs. I would be mortified if he knew any of that, just like I’d be mortified if any of the people I’d spoken about here found out. That’s why I’m choosing to stay anonymous … as best I can.
I was almost outed at work not so long ago. During a quiet period, I used my phone to check my stats, and a work colleague peeked over my shoulder.
“What’s NotSoSexintheCity?” she asked.
“Oh, nothing. Just a blog I read when I get bored,” I responded, finding another website with a similar name and directing her to that one instead. The topic was soon forgotten about, and I breathed a sigh of relief. But it gave me a taste of how it might feel if someone came across it.
And how would I feel if anyone I actually knew found my blog? Completely heartbroken. I wouldn’t want to upset the people I’ve spoken badly about, and I certainly wouldn’t want some of the men to know just how high of a pedestal I put them on. And I definitely wouldn’t want someone to read a “review” of their/our experiences in bed. (Or out of it.)
I would rethink my entire sexual past if I got a bad “review”. There are some things that it’s just nicer not to see or know. As much as I hated The Guy I Couldn’t Get Rid Of and the way he kissed me, I’d never want to say that to his face. I don’t think that makes me two-faced; I think it makes me compassionate. Putting down someone’s sexual performance does more than just denting their ego; it can destroy them.
Imagine re-thinking every time you ever slept with someone and wondering: “Did I do something wrong?”
I’m all for subtle hints, of course; there’s nothing better than grabbing a guy’s hair and directing his head – and therefore his tongue – when he’s going down on you. I don’t mind teaching the partner I’m with a trick or two if it helps me get to where I want to be. There are some things you just can’t change, though. Rather than saying something, I’d much rather just end things and find someone I’m more compatible with. I gave a bad kisser many months of my life thinking they’d eventually change their technique, and the change never actually came. Instead, I just kept finding reasons to avoid kissing him. I can’t have a relationship without kissing, because kissing is one of my favourite things to do, so a relationship without it just isn’t a relationship for me.
From the sexual reviews I’ve had (and keep having) I think I’m pretty good in bed. I’ve been told that my blowjobs are “the best”. I get carried away in the moment and I bite, scratch, moan, groan, grunt, writhe, wriggle, deep-throat, gag, spit, nibble, pay attention to the balls, swallow … all because those things turn me on, not necessarily for the satisfaction of my lover. I’m playful, experimental, and I like to try things at least once. How can I have an opinion on something if I’ve never actually tried it?
From what I can gather this makes me pretty good in bed. Willing to learn and try and explore. If someone were to turn around now and tell me that I sucked (and not in a good way), it would crush me. I’ve worked hard to perfect my technique. I’ve fucked enough people, so I should hope I’ve learned a trick or two along the way. I appreciate that everyone likes different things, but I’m pretty accommodating … and if almost everyone is giving me rave reviews, I must be doing something right, right?!
When we had our conversation about it, One Ball told me the thought of being able to read a genuine, honest review of his performance in bed would be too tempting to turn down. Despite wanting to respect my privacy, he wasn’t sure he could turn it down.
“So … you wouldn’t believe me if I told you you were good in bed, you’d need to read it in my blog to actually believe it?” I asked.
“I believe it when you said it, yes, but reading it on the screen would prove it. Like proper validation,” he replied.
I guess this brings me to my point:
Do you believe it when someone tells you they think you’re good in bed?
Or would you want to go hunting for validation in the form of a blog post, if there was one available, to make doubly sure?
I think I would be the same as One Ball: I believe the reviews, but if there was a blog post to tell me the real truth, I’d totally read it. The only problem is, I might not like what it says … and then what would I do?
What do you think?
Would you want to know your REAL sexual review?