discodemons

[discodemons]

The Bitch Is Back & The Pete Davidson Effect

Who would have thought that some 5'8 white dude named Greg would be the best sex of my life?

One week ago I went on a first date that literally has not ended and is still going on as I write this. We met at a bar and within 45 minutes he spilled his beer on us but we sat there laughing, hands resting on our thighs burning through the cold, wet fabric of our jeans.

What happened next has been a primal blur of sweat, spit, cum, slapping, choking, and saying things we know we shouldn't but don't regret a bit.

To provide some context, my first sexual encounters just felt so strange to me that I found myself either overthinking or completely disassociating. My first ex and I definitely had a lot of great sex but my memories of our sex life are clouded by the violent times. My next ex was just...it just wasn't the best sex ever, let's put it that way. All the other times in between my boyfriends felt the same as the first few. The novelty of a new fuck is more exciting and satisfying than the fuck itself. But, not this time.

The first few days I found myself thinking and even saying out loud "is this really happening?" How can he already know every spot and hit it so well every time? I'm sure he wonders how I can possibly be so wet every single time he goes down there.

I've completely lost count of how many times we've had sex and the number of times I've come are astronomical. I've barely eaten or slept and it's difficult to focus on any task without losing focus, thinking about him inside me, and slipping back into that euphoric feeling.

My therapist put a good word to it; all-consuming.

It feels like it never truly stops. All the moments in between simply talking and being near each other just feel like foreplay.

I'm not going to lie. It's got me all types of mentally fucked up.

On the one hand, when we're together everything is fucking wonderful. On the other hand, when he's gone I'm reminded I'm still in love with my ex who lives across the country, and despite barely knowing this new guy, I am head over heels for him. What the fuck is wrong with me? Why can't I just casually like someone and not convince myself it's more?

I mean he's kind of got a great package. Not just his penis. I don't know him well enough to say he's got the full package, but he's certainly checking 3 very important boxes. I call it 'The Pete Davidson Effect'.

The Pete Davidsons, Joe Burrows, and Jack Harlows of the world know this simple truth; all white men are born with literally zero swag and it is only acquired through time as you become:

1. Really good in bed

2. Funny

3. Talented at either sports or the arts

Unfortunately, if you're a white guy you have to have all 3 if you want some swag. Sorry, I don't make the rules.

Nice is a bonus, but a lot of people will fuck you regardless of that.

[discodemons]

Well, hello there.

This is...interesting. I had a Tumblr account from the time I was in probably 7th or 8th grade which would have made me about 12 or 13. I had my account until about junior year of college and until then I thought often, "God, will I ever get tired of this?" Expressing myself and being able to dive deeper whenever I found a new interest and finding a community of like-minded people at the same time was a lifesaver during high school especially. At one point my One Direction fan account had over 1k followers which at that time was incredible to me. Having a Tumblr also allowed me to anonymously explore darker parts of myself.

Eventually, life got more interesting and demanding and so the Tumblr was abandoned. Hours of blogging, making genuine connections, HTML customizing my theme, live-blogging livestreams with friends I've never met in person, I loved it. The thing is real life just gets in the way. Especially when you're me. Don't get me wrong, the years since stepping away from my blog haven't been a montage of epic parties and slaying absolute 10s. It's been almost 2 years since I broke up with my boyfriend of almost 7 years and he tried to sexually assault me the day after his sister's funeral. Oh. Trigger warning. See, this is my personal blog. Per my therapist's request I need to journal but I can't do anything if it's not at least a bit performative so I think if I convince myself this will somehow blow up and I'll become the real-life Carrie Bradshaw, then I'll continue doing it. "It" is expressing myself through journaling via this blog.

Shortly after breaking up with that piece of shit I started dating a very sweet and deeply fucked up individual. We are no longer together for reasons not obvious to you as the reader but as a loved one...it was clear the relationship would not last. He's moving across the country after the next month and until then he's living with me. Which presents some issues. The biggest being that I am a hellion who would have been burned at the stake not too long ago.

I do still love him although sometimes it seems like he's actively trying to repulse me. I won't get too much into detail about the inner workings of our relationship but for anyone out there reading, I'd like it to be known that I am, in fact, capable of love and I do love this person. But lord do I want to fuck other people.

The week after I broke up with him I went out with some girlfriends and reminisced about a brief time with a man 10 years older than me I had been with over a year prior. I hadn't heard from him since and I honestly thought I had his number blocked. That is until he texted me the next morning. I almost fell to the floor. After over a year and I haven't even given this person a thought until the night before, and now he's texting me. It's almost like he was listening.

See, when I first met this guy I instantly referred to him as American Psycho. It was mostly the looks and the vibe. Which got stronger when I went over (of course I did, don't look at me like that. You will learn quickly that curiosity often gets the better of me) and when I knocked on the door he told me from the other side to come in...ok, already a little weird. When I came in he wasn't even too busy to get the door or anything, he was just sitting on the couch. I said hello and shut and locked the door behind me to which he said, "Locking the door? Shouldn't you be afraid of me?" UM SIR, SHOULD I BE? Anyway, we had sex. I felt so detached the whole time because of how off-putting his behavior was. And also a little because of how factory-made he looks. Either way, that was the only time we had sex and every other time has been him texting me 24/7 especially during the weekday to sext and have facetime sex. It was far too much for me. I'll be honest, I work when I want, so I can be free, but that doesn't mean I don't work. It was when he started to request secret videos of me hooking up with other people that I drew a line. I do have some morals.

Anyway, I'm a bit older and wiser now and we occasionally text. Although, the other day after a couple weeks of dirty texting he dropped the bomb that he had just started seeing someone for long enough where it's at the point where if we were to do anything it would have to be a secret. His words, not mine. Ick. It's already hard enough sending nudes when my ex is in my one-bedroom apartment, you will not catch me fucking a man with a girlfriend.

This is a good transition to questionable people I would fuck. Everyone has them. I honestly have a thing for every legendary male comedian. Adam Sandler? Someone get me a fucking towel. A friend of mine would fuck the shit out of Jack Black. My favorite kind of questionable person to fuck is someone you technically shouldn't fuck.

For instance, my family has recently reconnected with another family we all used to be much closer with. Their son is 21 now and has grown into quite a handsome young man and recently caught my interest a couple weeks ago at a family party. The first night I thought I was being conceited and there was no way he was flirting with me. The next day the sexual tension was so dense you could cut it with a knife. The kind where all you need to do is lock eyes and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears and feel it in your pussy. We partied all day at the house and all I could do was stare at was him in his grey sweatpants. Side note: Why do they do that to us?

By the end, I found myself alone with him grabbing a beer and it took every ounce of my spirit not to turn around and bend over for him right there. As soon as my mind went there, I just as quickly envisioned either of our parents walking in and finding us and I immediately went home. The next day we went to a bar for 3 beers before I blurted out "I just really want to fuck the shit out of you". And before I knew it we were in the back of his truck fucking like animals for what felt like hours. It was amazing. It was all I could think about the next week and I was spiraling. My friend called it a "dick daze". I've never felt anything like that. I spent the next few days getting tipsy and texting him, making a fool of myself and by the end of the week convinced myself I was being thirsty and needed to move on. After all, what am I doing chasing after any man, first of all? Then he texted me. He came over last night. On the one hand, it's fucking amazing having sex with someone who can go rounds and obviously worships your body. On the other, it is a little weird having sex with someone who has no chest hair. Ok, it's really weird.

I desperately need someone new in the mix that isn't an ex, much younger than me, or a total sociopath. Preferably with great abs and stamina.

If I do find them, you'll be the first to know.

Muah.