At the show we were at on Saturday night, he put his hand on my back and I kissed him in the middle of a bar full of my friends. It all felt very natural, especially considering it was only our second date. Something about him felt comfortable. We got off the subway early coming back to my place so we could go for a stroll in the late summer air that had been cooled by rain; while walking, we bounced jokes off each other. He’s witty, incredibly well-read, and refreshingly imaginative. He makes me laugh really hard.
When we got into my apartment and I took off my shoes, he said I had cute feet. SCORE – I know what that means. He rubbed them as we sat on my couch sipping Jim Beam and talking about Modernists, horror, and blues music. I can’t remember the entire conversation – we drank a lot of Jim Beam – but I know it sparkled. He dove across the couch to kiss me, and we sat up so I could straddle him. We took each other’s clothes off slowly, delighting in just touching each other.
We stumbled upstairs; he tossed me onto my bed, which I love. Nothing better than being thrown around! He licked my feet (yesyesyes) and kissed me in secret erogenous zones that most people never pay attention to. I was thinking, This guy knows what’s up. Aaaaand then he took my panties off and I noticed that the familiar feeling of heat and that string of clear fluid that normally sticks to my panties from the wetness in my cunt was missing. Dry as a bone. We made out a little and licked and nibbled each other’s various body parts; he tried fingering me, which as you can imagine was not extremely pleasant (I know, I know, I should have handed him one of the bottles of lube next to the bed). I rolled him over and restrained him so I could play with him instead, thinking that maybe I’d just had too much to drink and things would improve in the morning.
We woke up after not nearly enough sleep; after a bit of kissing and touching, he lightly traced his fingers around my nipples and along my outer labia – good start. I told him as much – I like to be touched gently in some places. He put his face between my legs and started eagerly licking my lips… and it felt really nice, but I still wasn’t getting wet. The only wetness came from his mouth. I told him that I probably wasn’t going to come because I don’t come easily from oral sex – I’ve made peace with that and don’t want to fake it (which is true). That sex wasn’t about orgasms, but about pleasure and connection, and I was feeling both / really enjoying the way his tongue felt on me – also true. What I didn’t say is that he just wasn’t doing it for me. It wasn’t anything about what he was doing, but just that my body wasn’t responding to him. I didn’t feel the zsa zsa zsu.
In her book Come As You Are, Emily Nagoski says that among women, there’s only a ten percent overlap between arousal and genital response; I just figured that non-concordance was occurring. However, the next day when my sister asked me if I were attracted to him, I realized that attraction hadn’t even crossed my mind. Of course I was attracted to him! He could write! We had sparkly conversation! He made me laugh! We like all the same things! When I started saying all of this, she laughed and asked if I were physically attracted to him. And the honest answer is… no. He’s handsome. But I don’t feel that physical pull, that “God I need you to touch me right the fuck now” feeling when I’m with him. I assumed that because we’re so compatible in other ways the attraction would just be there… but it’s not.
I’m a lucky gal when it comes to sex; when I’m physically aroused, my vagina responds in spades. As I’ve come to find out, however, there’s a difference between mental and physical arousal. All of you are probably saying, “DUH, Jo,” but I’ve always been most physically attracted to people I find mentally stimulating. My brain is turned on, and my body follows. This is a first for me, and I’m not quite sure what to do with it. I’d like to try again, but then I feel like I’m just experimenting on the guy. Then again, maybe when we spend more time together, my body will decide it’s aroused – feelings change. It’s a sex quandary.