Still inside me, he looked at me and said, “you’re so gorgeous baby”. I smiled a very satisfied smile. A tall, broad-shouldered, dark-haired, very fit, handsome investment banker. Did I mention well-endowed? And cut, circumcised, as was my preference. All in all quite the well oiled, muscle ripped package. What was his name again? Dammit.

Not bad for my first foray into the online adult sex world. It was surprisingly easy, especially for the first time. I signed up to one of many well known sex websites, though this was close to four years ago so still relatively a new thing in the online world. A tinder of it’s kind for back then.

Within an hour of joining, he and I were exchanging photos, one hour after that? A phone call. Four hours later I was meeting him in a bar, and 35 minutes after that, we were laying in a king size bed in one of the city’s best hotels. He had ordered up champagne. Strawberries. Even a bath butler, brought in to get the vibes just right.

Whatever, I came twice, he showered, and we parted ways.

The following weeks/months produced a shocking amount of sex, shocking in that it was mostly all brilliant.

Let me tell you about a few of my escapades.

The Frenchie, Jaque (yes that was his actual name) he appeared so “wonderfully normal” upon meeting, he was also tall dark and handsome (turns out I do have a type). But the “wonderfully normal” only lasted so long. He commented on my shoes and my shoe size when we met, THAT RIGHT THERE SHOULD HAVE BEEN MY FIRST WARNING. I wrote it off as stylish and interested. Oh how wrong I was.

Back at his place and after a phenomenal foot massage (THAT’S YOUR SECOND WARNING WOMAN) and a sensational tongue lashing on my newly waxed lady garden, my frenchman stood at the end of the bed smiling over me, rubbed my feet again and told me in very basic terms that he wanted a foot wank. Now, I don’t know if you’ve ever done this ladies (and/or gents) but as the one doing it, do you know how bloody hard it is to seem sexy whilst you use your wider than average size nine feet with chipped nail polish to get a man off. Thank christ he stayed hard the whole time. My feet rubbed for dear life, I got cramps in my ankles, IN MY FREAKING ANKLES. My feet started to spasm as he shot his load all over my gross feet.

Au Revoir, Jaque!

Then there was the tv producer of a popular evening news program. He was an interesting one. He was widely known for having a very large penis. I knew as soon as he sent his photo who he was. The whiter than white tv teeth were not subtle but the photo of his donkey penis was the true lotto ticket. Yay for future me for I would be well pleased by that fleshy log.

Let’s call the tv producer Matt. “Matt” wanted to bring all the freaky freaks to the party. From asking me to suck his toes to asking me to urinate all over his glorious thirteen inches of manhood. Thirteen inches ladies!! But do you think he had the foggiest idea how to use it? Lord no. Funny how that is. I taught that man where the G spot was, how to touch a woman in all the best places and how to make someone cum three times. You’re welcome future ladies of Matt.

And then perhaps one of the saddest situations I encountered in my sexual adventures was the excruciatingly shy, highly successful (highly stressed) anesthetist. To this day he is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met. Our first meet was at a popular day bar in the city. I found him practically hiding behind his gin and tonic. He looked so happy to see me and seriously terrified at the same time.

There was definite spark there. A definite x factor about this guy and it honestly had all the makings for a brilliant time. We went to the bathroom, I actually wasn’t aware he followed me, we made out a little (ok fine a lot) but it was never my intention to have sex with him in a Marriott hotel!! As it turns out I didn’t. He came while kissing me. Now I’m good kisser but cum in your pants good? Well… I couldn’t quite believe it.

I gave him the benefit of the doubt for another date. He lasted a little longer but let’s just say he never made it downtown. Not once, not even a little bit.

All these men I met were



What surprised me most was how lonely most of these men were. They wanted to be held, to be loved, even if for a few hours. They told me their life stories. And judge all you want, some were in relationships some were not. They were just sex starved. They certainly were starved of affection.

I only made one giant mistake during my year of sex exploration (well really it’s four years and counting now) which was sending my photos to an untrustworthy Canadian – who when rejected by me, threatened all sorts with my images.

In the end, I didnt’ care if a photo of my naked body and face surfaced on the net. It would make for a brilliant response to one of those lousy interview questions where they ask you any regrets or anything you would do differently – “why yes, yes there was this one time”……… get the idea.

My time fucking around, literally, taught me so much. It taught me that it’s ok for a woman to want to have sex like a man. To want to be pleasured. To feel sexual with no agenda. Why is it perfectly ok for casual sex to be a non topic for men but yet when women walk in to the act of sex exploration we judge? We slut shame her. I’m not religious, I’m not in a relationship. I’m careful and I know my boundaries. I’m living my life right now in a way that I am ok with. Who knows if this will continue but what I do know is that I’ve learned how to enjoy sex and be proud of my female form. I’ve been empowered through my sexual experiences. And if anything that was a lesson I’m happy to have learned.