I Attempted A Casual Hookup And I’ll Never Do It Again

Suffering from a bout of sexual frustration within my primary relationship, I did what most polyamorous millennials are prone to do: I found someone to casually have sex with. Unluckily for me, it was disastrous and, as a result, I’ve sworn off hooking up forever. Next time I’ll stick with masturbation, thank you very much.

I’ve never felt such an animalistic need before and I didn’t know what to do with it. 

I was in the midst of a dry spell with my primary partner and because of our extremely incompatible sex drives, I’d been sexually frustrated for basically the entirety of our relationship. This culminated in the most intense sexual need I’d ever experienced. I could barely look at a man without imagining what it might be like to sleep with him. I can only imagine it was a glimpse into what many men experience as a default setting.

Eventually, I just acted on it. 

I was at a party one night and all I could think about was sex. I decided to just go for it and started flirting with a cute guy. Before I knew it, I followed my urges and just started making out with him. It felt great to take that initiative and fulfill some of those pent-up desires that had been bugging me for weeks.

When I invited him back to my place, I felt empowered. 

A few days after we met, I invited him over. The context was pretty clear—there was no mistaking this as anything other than a booty call and I felt strangely empowered in taking on that role. I’d never really done anything like that before so it felt good to be so bold in my invitation.

Things began to go downhill pretty quickly. 

Back at my place, it didn’t take long before red flags began to appear. He told me he had a cold and I decided I didn’t want to kiss him and risk passing it on to my primary partner. That put the brakes on our evening’s plans in my mind. For him, everything was fine. He’d just put some essential oils on his lips, he said, and they’d act as a barrier for the germs. I’m no scientist, but there seemed to be some holes in his reasoning.

He straight-up insulted my choice of birth control

Hanging out in my bedroom, he glimpsed my packet of birth-control pills on my bedside table. He seemed really taken aback and asked if I was on the pill. When I said yes he just replied with, “Well, that’s stupid.” I was not impressed, as you might imagine.

I felt obliged to share intimacy of some kind. 

Somehow I still felt pressure to make good on my invitation and when he offered me an oil massage, I accepted. I really struggled with saying no and that evening turned out to be a good lesson in why it’s important to respect my own boundaries. Of course, an oil massage is a pretty good way to move toward sex, which I quickly realized I didn’t want.

I realized I’d made a big mistake. 

For all of the aforementioned reasons, as well as the fact that having sex without kissing is just plain weird, I knew sex wasn’t on the cards after all. Nevertheless, I was topless and covered in oil and we ended up getting naked together anyway. It was nice to cuddle together but I was sure I didn’t want anything more than that and I expressed that to him clearly.

He tried to push things too far. 

Unfortunately, my words fell on deaf ears. He was able to accept that we weren’t going to have penetrative sex but he seemed to really want to go down on me. I told him I wasn’t up for that but he began making his way under the covers anyway, despite my protestations. It wasn’t until I physically pulled him up by his hair that he got the message. It was an awful experience and I felt completely disrespected.

I let him stay the night but I wish I hadn’t. 

By the time that happened, it was well past midnight and the public transport he was relying on to get home was no longer running. Out of politeness and a sense of guilt, I let him stay the night in my bed but I resented every minute of it. I knew I didn’t want him there but I didn’t listen to my own needs. I sincerely wish I had, though. I had no obligation to let him stay, and given the chance to do it again, I would have just told him to beat it and catch a cab.

The next day, things were really weird. 

Waking up in the morning, I felt like there was some stranger in my house. Over breakfast, we shared some strained conversation and everything was laced with awkward tension. I couldn’t wait to get out of the house and leave that interaction behind. Everything to do with him was just riddled with a sense of shame and anger.

I learned my lesson. 

In principle, I have absolutely nothing against casual sex and if that’s your thing, go for it. I realized pretty quickly though, that it’s just not for me. I’d rather get my rocks off some other way and save my intimacy for someone I can trust rather than letting my hormones lead me into another disastrous interaction like that.

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