It’s been nearly three months now since I did the deed and I have to say my cravings for sex have not abated one bit. I realize, though, how I used sex with men as an escape from the tribulations of life, how it had nothing whatever to do with connecting with another person…it was all about relieving the tension in my head and forgetting about life for a while.
There is a definite release that comes from sexual orgasm and the vibrator does offer some relief as I’ve mentioned before. As Chelsea Handler so eloquently quipped in her memoir of one-night stands, it is much better to direct your anger toward a vibrator than a person. Sometimes when you want to scream, all you really need to do is come and suddenly everything feels better.
I coined the phrase “vibrators don’t have shoulders” meaning there is more to a man than just his penis, although that is the most important part. (I’m still in the early part of my journey so this opinion is subject to change.) There’s the hair to run your hands through and the deep, hypnotic voice that makes you do what he says, and as mentioned the shoulders to hang onto. These are all part of the experience and something a vibrator simply can’t provide. A vibrator is a half-measure, a necessary evil, if you will. I am beginning to form a love/hate relationship with mine, a little annoyed that I need it as I do. I can still get myself off, but the vibrator does the trick much more effectively.
Many of my women friends have urged me to stop torturing myself. What harm can it do to get laid, they ask. My answer is that I’d like to get past the point where sex is merely a physical release. I want to see if sex can one day represent a psychic connection with another person as I’ve heard it can, become “sacred” as one person described it to me. I’d just like to have a relationship with a man based on more than how hot he thinks I am or how many times he can make me come.