WARNING: This article deals with descriptions of sex, and some of the comments are getting quite graphic! Please avoid if that sort of thing upsets you.
I have recently returned to the land of dating. Yay!
It has taken me the better part of three months to get back out there; to stop stalking his Facebook page, and to get over my irrational hatred of inanimate objects that remind me of him.
Popcorn, the cafes/bars we used to go to, the TV series we where half way through watching, pancakes… No that’s not true, I still despise pancakes.
You see, the man cooked me pancakes at 10 o’clock at night before going away on a boys trip – only to return and tell me that he ‘never loved me.’ Fuck pancakes.
There has been crying, not eating, crying, making up for not eating, (you know what, just make it the family bucket KFC, thanks) crying, knowing I’ll never see the end of Homeland without throwing things at the TV, and then a little bit more crying.
Lucky for me I happen to have the best circle of friends a girl could ask for. The ones who couldn’t be there in person sent cupcakes and virtual hugs, the ones who could gave me brilliant advice like ‘you know what, it’s just going to suck for a while and then it will get easier.’ And thanks to those beautiful people I am where I am today. I am fabulous, I am ready to get back out there and I am scared as hell.
So I did what any girl who was looking for a hot date would do these days? I joined Tinder.
Then I deleted Tinder.
Then I rejoined Tinder.
I have since been on exactly three Tinder ‘dates’. The first was amazing. There was good wine, good conversation, great sex, and no return phone call. Awesome. The second was a trip to a brightly lit ice creamery where I questioned my makeup, had possibly the most awkward conversation I’ve had in my life, and left.
The last one was with a ridiculously good looking guy who was down from Sydney for the weekend. I knew exactly where it was going but hey, sometimes a girl just has an itch to scratch that no rabbit vibrator can reach.
Now here’s the thing. In my post-pancake-man encounters, the guys involved have expected that I’m just gagging for anal sex, like its standard issue, like it requires no preparation for it at all. Just lube up and away you go fellas.
Ah, no. Sorry guys that’s not how it works. I know porn makes it look easy but those ladies have had some spring cleaning before the show to avoid any accidents… if you get my drift.
I get that I’ve been away from the scene for a while, and I have read a few articles about modern guys and porn culture. I’m even happy to admit I watch it for a few pointers, but has anal become so vanilla that it’s expected every session?
Are the women out there going for colonics before every date? While I get that my focus group is rather limited, I am rather curious if guys expect this because they want it, or because they’ve seen it and think hey! that’s what I’m supposed to do! Is anal is a sometimes meal providing you both want to go there? Or is a hole just a hole?
Do you think anal has become ‘normalised’? Do you think men expect anal sex from women? And do women enjoy anal sex – for real?