It’s been 169 days since I had sex y’all. 169 damn days! I’ve avoided sex for so long because I wanted more perhaps out of jealousy; I also felt like time was running out for me. I go back and forth between wanting something real and wanting to be a fucktoy. This internal struggle is real!
This lack of sex situation has gotten so bad that I’ve actually cried. I don’t know whether to attribute it to the hypersexuality of bipolar disorder, the neediness of the love addiction, or if a sista is just plain lonely. Perhaps it’s all of the above. The hell if I know!
I need to feel desired if only for that moment. I need to feel someone pressed against me. I want to lose myself inside of someone else. I just need a release that I simply cannot get from self-pleasure or directing this energy elsewhere. I miss the smell, sweat, dirty talk, moans, and the feeling of a stiff one inside of me filling all my voids. I need to feel someone’s mouth and hands all over me. I know I must sound deranged or like an addict right now.
I feel like if I don’t have sex I’m going to die from an unfulfilled vagina. I think about it constantly. I’m having sexy dreams about Silver Fox and others. I’m watching the filthiest of porn. I get sexually excited from reading dirty ads on Craigslist. I listen to ads posted by perverts on telephone personals. It’s gotten bad y’all. I’m surprised that I haven’t stripped butt naked and was like…
I inboxed Fire on Facebook. I did not hint that I wanted sex but he probably knew I did anyway. I really don’t keep in contact with him. I sent the following thirsty ass messages to him:
“Soon” wasn’t what I wanted to hear. Soon could be next week or next month. I haven’t responded yet. I want to have sex but I feel embarrassed about how thirsty I came across. Who sends a crying emoticon because they can’t have sex right then and there? What has become of me?
Don’t answer that question y’all.