To Hook Up or Not to Hook Up? Sex and the Smithie

I turned on my phone again and saw that I had a new text: “I’m bored. Do you want to hook up?” I had decided a long time before that even if hooking up sounded tempting at the time, it would always be a bad idea, something I would regret. Sex without love would be disappointing. I tried to respond to this text without sounding judgmental – just because hooking up would not be in my best interest did not mean I should judge him for wanting to hook up. So I replied, “I’m sorry, I’m not interested in hooking up. I think it would be bad for me.”

But the idea of a hookup, especially with this guy, was starting to sound pretty good, actually. Maybe that decision I had made a few months before should only apply to unattractive guys? This guy was not only attractive, but also funny, intelligent and always willing to have a conversation with me about obscure philosophical topics. And for the next few days, even the thought of hooking up with him aroused me.

So I texted him about getting drinks, which he agreed to, and then, not being able to resist any longer, asked if we could still hook up. Of course he did not refuse. We drank a few beers together, and then headed to my room. I was worried that he would soon discover my secret: I had never actually had sex. In fact, I had done almost all sexual things besides actually having sex – anal, oral or vaginal. But, how hard could it be? Maybe he never had to know that little detail.

Soon enough, we were kissing on my bed, and while it was somewhat enjoyable, I kept asking myself why I was kissing a guy I wasn’t in love with, or even really attracted to. Twenty minutes later, we were both naked, sort of cuddling together after giving up on sex because I was too tight, probably because I wasn’t really aroused enough. And again, I asked myself why I was cuddling with a guy I barely knew (what was his last name?) and why all of the things I had always thought would be immensely arousing were okay, but not really arousing when he did them. He was also getting really sweaty, so the little enjoyment I had before was diminishing. We made out some more, and then ended up watching Adventure Time with his head on my shoulder and arm around my waist.

So now, I am concluding that for me, sex always has to be an expression of love, just as I had decided before. And if I try to defy my rule, I will end up unsatisfied and disappointed. Not that he wasn’t an awesome person – he didn’t even mind my hairy legs. It seemed like he might actually have similar views to mine, since he initiated the cuddling and mentioned his loneliness. I hope he finds what he’s looking for.

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