Finding a Fuck Buddy

It seems simple enough on paper, but I’m starting to realize that the process of searching for a reliable sex partner is a small level down in difficulty from searching for an ideal mate.

My Time Out New York singles issue experience was overwhelmingly positive, but ultimately a bust. Between the guy who wanted an open relationship, the guy who couldn’t get it up in bed, and the sweet guy that I just didn’t fully click with, I’m ready to declare a moratorium on actively pursuing something serious. This is the first time I’ve enjoyed being single, it’s a new feeling, and I want to run with it. I'm still open to higher levels of intimacy, but there’s no rush for me in forcing it there.

That being said, one-night stand sex often leaves a lot to be desired. Sometime it’s wonderful, but a lot of times it’s unimaginative, one-sided, and entirely too brief.

The DL/cheating and “straight” men I’ve been involved with as of late would seem like a great idea in theory, but their lack of awareness about what turns men on is confusing, particularly since, well, they are men. Not climaxing because you want to “save it for your girlfriend” is the last thing that’s going to excite me, and telling me you want to “fuck my pussy” is going to get my boxers thrown back on in a nanosecond, and your ass thrown out of my apartment.

Part of this need for a regular fuck buddy also comes down to safety precautions. I feel like my number of partners the last few months may be getting out of hand. Condoms are used EVERY time, without fail, but NYC has the second highest percentage of people inflicted with HIV/AIDS in the country. Honestly, it might as well be Rwanda. Why tempt fate?

So where does a guy find someone who’s pretty to look at with a crazy sexual appetite (Uninhibited? More than three times a week? Up for being experimental?), yet possesses none of the qualities I would want in a potential partner?

The latter is essential for my fuck buddy, arguably more so than the former. Any time genuine attraction or feelings come into play on either side, the no-strings sexual agreement goes out the window. Ideally, this no-strings partner would be a Republican, work in finance or as a lawyer, have no sense of humor whatsoever, and hold views on society that I find to be completely repugnant.

Even better, I shouldn’t know any of these things about them. I shouldn’t even know their name, or at least not their real one (They certainly won’t know my real one). Don’t take me out for drinks or a date first. We both know where this night will end up, and I’d rather not be at a bar I don’t want to be at, engaged in painfully dull small talk I have no interest in having. Don’t ask me how my day went or how I’ve been, because you obviously don’t care. I want to walk into your apartment, strip down, and get this party started.

Hey Guys. Wanna Smell Like a Vagina?

I would have loved to be in on the brainstorming meeting where a room full of people actually greenlighted this idea. Seriously? Who would ever go out in public smelling like va-jay-jay?

http://www.smellmeand.com/gb/#/home/

Am I a Commitment Phobe? Or Just Slutty?

Ever since I came out of the closet, I've wanted to be in a relationship. Not settle down, mind you, but the idea of a partner always seemed appealing because it would be like having a built in friend, travel companion and drinking buddy.

One night stands never came easily. My rural college campus in Ohio had about 12 openly gay men, none of whom were the least bit fuckable. I spent my time converting DL rugby players and musicians instead, but these hook-ups never lead to sex. Once penetration came into play, my body completely froze up and extreme pain shot across my body. Half the time I couldn't even finish, and those times when I could were far from satisfying. It was only when with a lover that this didn't occur. Completely psychosomatic.

Cue to last November. I was prescribed an anti-depressant medication for multiple reasons. "One of the possible side effects is a loss of interest in sex," my doctor said. "Of course, that's not an acceptable trade-off, so let me know if that happens and we'll switch to something else."

Cue to last December, after fucking five people over the course of a month. "I think the opposite issue is happening," I said to my doctor. "It feels like I'm in heat."

Whether this is a medication issue or simply becoming more comfortable with myself remains unclear. The only thing that was certain is that I became sex-crazed. The self-made stigma attached with one night stands went out the window. Introductions to threesomes came into play. Then light sadomasochism (ie cigarette burn on my back). My total number of partners skyrocketed, as did my confidence in my own sexual performance.

Cue to last month. For the first time in my life, I truly enjoyed being single. Then it happened.

Boyfriend material.

We hit it off on our first date. He's funny, opinionated, and incredibly sweet. I threw him questions and he knocked them out of the park. He knew how to playfully push my buttons. He called when he said he would. This continued on through dates 2 and 3.

Yet every time the dates ended, the walls would come up on the long walk home. I'm not ready for this. I can already see the finish line.

There had to be a reason for this. Fear? Self-sabotage? Do I not want to be in a relationship right now?

The bottom line is that there's so much I want to do in the way of traveling and exploring, and that takes top priority now. I don't want to have to answer to anyone. Of course, I'm still open to intimacy and relationships, but anything that gets in the way of that simply needs to be removed for now.

Why Open Relationships Don't Work

Made famous by Facebook, the term "open relationship" is used by shallow people in denial of their own whoreditude who need a sense of emotional security while avoiding mutual exclusivity. These relationships always end badly and leave the formerly abused children to slit their wrists while listening to Mindless Self Indulgence.

Many people might think that since the word "relationship"is contained that some kind of commitment is implied. Many people would be wrong. I sleep with random people all the time. It's called being single. There really isn't a difference here.

Anybody who subscribes to this kind of relationship has various, and ultimately bullshit, reasoning for it. There's the argument that humans are not monogamous creatures by nature. I can bite on that. However, we are jealous and territorial by nature. People get jealous when their significant others talks to someone else at a bar. You mean to tell me you're now okay with them shagging someone else?

Then there's the justification for it because there are "rules" attached to it. No sleeping with the same person more than once. We only do it when it's on vacation. We give up monogamy for Lent, and so forth. Most of these so-called couples also have the stipulation that they don't tell their partner if they do stray. I'm sorry, but if I close my eyes and stick my fingers in my ear, it means that I don't want to hear it, and therefore, I'm really not okay with it.

There are also the couples that claim they only play together. When considering frequent threesomes, there's always one person in the relationship who wants it, and the other one that's drunk and on Vicoden at 10:00 in the morning in preparation for it. Threesomes typically end with two satisfied people, and a third party crying alone at a Taco Bell at 3:00 am.

In my opinion, this is the most dangerous form of open relationship. I've destroyed at least four relationships through participating in threesomes. It's inevitable. I connect with one person more than the other, we go at it, the other partner gets X'd out of the picture, he gets pissed because his boyfriend doesn't look that happy when they're having sex alone, and jealousy takes place. There have been times when screaming matches take place within seconds of my exiting the apartment.

Relationships are sacred, and should be treated as such. They take work. They take time and effort, but the rewards are invaluable. Until I meet someone who deserves that much attention, to use that infamous Sex and the City quote: I will see whomever and blow whomever I want as long as I can breathe and kneel.

How Naked Tennis Came To Be

To answer the two questions most asked about this blog: Yes, that photo really is me. No, I didn't photoshop a butt dimple in.

Even if you compulsively plan your life out like I tend to do, there's always some slight alteration in the plan. When I first moved to New York, coaching tennis seemed like a real possibility. Two years later, I am coaching tennis...just with my balls swaying in the wind.

After spending a few months post-graduation on a blow-up mattress in the living room of my mom's apartment, I moved into an dillapidated building with a friend in "East Williamsburg" (otherwise known to New Yorkers as the white part of Bushwick). Facing the realization that four years of my life was spent obtaining a degree that was essentially worthless in the real world, I found myself flat broke and struggling to pay even the smallest bills.

It didn't help matters that despite my Jewish upbringing, I've never been very good with managing money. I distinctly remember holding 40 dollars in my hand for almost an hour one day, debating whether to spend the money on the electric bill or marijuana. Three days later, my roomate came home to find a candlelight vigil in the apartment, as I furiously puffed away on a blunt that would put Snoop Dogg to shame.

My roomate and I were talking over a bottle of cheap wine one night when I told her how expensive tennis lessons were in the city. "Holy shit, can you imagine how much it would be if somebody taught naked," she drunkenly giggled.

This was the stupidest idea I had ever heard in my life, but was also ingenous.

I put an ad up on the adult gigs section of Craigslist (my only form of advertising to this day), asking if anybody had a private court in their backyard they would let me use in exchange for a percentage of my earnings. Within six hours, somebody with a grass court in their backyard in Northern Westchester responded, and arranged to meet with me.

To the shock of nobody, the guy was a fucking freak show. He was basically a carbon copy of the old pervert in Family Guy, but he had a court that I needed. I sat him down, handed him a gun, and told him he was going to earn his 25% by shooting someone in the unlikely event that a client tried to attack or rape me.

I then put up another ad on Craigslist, offering nude tennis lessons that weekend for $150 an hour. Four people showed up on Saturday. Four people showed up on Sunday. This continued on for about a month, until I earned enough to hold myself over for about three months, and by that point a big boy job was obtained.

Cue to 2010. I still think this concept is ingenous, and a recession is a perfectly appropriate time to exploit weird people with way too much money on their hands. Hence, the reopening of the nude tennis business. I have a court in East Hampton to teach on, have hired two naked ballgirls to cater to the straight male clientele, and am hoping to kick things off in April with a nude exhibition tennis match. So far, 12 lessons have already been signed for next month.

This probably isn't my life calling, but what the hell. It's a story, and that's all living in New York is, really.

Vancouver Medals in Condom Distribution

The medals have been presented, the caldron extinguished and the crowds dispersed, but there's one record from the 2010 Vancouver Olympics that may have been overlooked: Most condoms distributed at a Winter Games.

It's hard to say this conclusively, and judges from other host cities may demand a recount, but Clay Adams of Vancouver Coastal Health said the word on the public health street is that Vancouver is king of the prophylactic winter rings.

Over the course of 17 days, the health agency doled out 100,000 condoms, supplied by the British Columbia Centre for Disease Control. And after buzz, some based on rumors, grew that there was a shortage -- "We were not getting calls from people saying, 'Help, I need condoms,'" Adams laughed -- an emergency shipment of 8,500 additional rubbers came in from the Canadian Foundation for AIDS Research.

Some media outlets reported that the supply was strictly for Olympic and Paralympic athletes and officials, totaling about 6,500 people according to the Vancouver Organizing Committee. That would suggest an average of at least 15 condoms per person, and rampant sex of Olympic proportions.

But Adams, spokesman for Vancouver Coastal Health, clarified and said the free condoms were available not just to athletes and game officials. They were on the cruise ships that housed security, support staff and volunteers. They were in washrooms at public venues, including the downtown pavilions where visitors gathered for free concerts. They were handed out by volunteers and readily available in clinics.

The mass distribution of rubbers was part of a greater effort to improve HIV and AIDS awareness, Adams said.

Lots of people don't have the same kind of access to public health messages about disease prevention, and "when you've got a global audience like this, it's a huge opportunity to educate the world," he said.

Since the 1992 Summer Olympics in Barcelona, Spain, condoms have been distributed free to athletes. About 40,000 of the original 100,000 in Vancouver were for those staying in the athlete villages in Vancouver and Whistler, Adams said.

How many of them were actually used is an impossible question to answer. Some say condoms were snagged as souvenirs, although Adams said they were not branded with Olympic rings. He said he did hear stories of athletes from countries with inferior condoms stuffing their suitcases with the coveted rubbers.

But no matter what happened to the condoms, the public health effort in Vancouver is one that makes him proud.

"Indications are that Vancouver topped the podium for Winter Olympics," Adams said.

"Although we recently heard that they issued 35 million condoms for Mardi Gras in Rio, so I suppose we all have a long, long way to go to reach that mark."

(Taken from CNN.com)