It Gets Better (And Better)

God, I remember my first kiss. I remember thinking that it tasted like bananas and then I remember thinking, “Sh*t, I hope this gets better or I don’t know what all the fuss is about.”

Turns out, it got better. The kissing got better, the men I kissed got better, the touching, the sweaty make-out sessions and the ridiculous hormones that flew about with reckless abandon, that all got better and definitely got put to use, frequently.

Then, I remember my “first time”. I remember thinking that it was short. Fumbling and awkward. And then I remember thinking, “Sh*t, I hope this get’s better or I don’t know what all the fuss is about.”

Well, yippee…it got better. A lot better. For myself and my friends included.

They had their apprehensions, slept with a few different people, experimented and started getting more comfortable in their skin, with their bodies and their bellies, their boobs and their asses…and for most of us, everything continued to get better and better. We stopped feeling guilt, stopped feeling as if we were doing something “bad”, and started to embrace that we were doing something GREAT, something human and physically and emotionally fulfilling.

Rather than just being some toy for guys, we found a way to make sex something for US. We made it “our thing”. It wasn’t just an activity for “The Boys Club”. We got ours when we wanted it, too. We didn’t wait for booty-calls, instead we gave them. That mentality is apparently very surprising to some who think women like sex?! Hell yes they do, so much in fact you could add us into the category titled HORNBALL.

Desire is universal, it is not gender specific.

When I’m at a cafe and an attractive man walks by I’m just as openly honest about how I want to see him naked in my bed as most men are. I sigh at full volume when I see a physical specimen on a street corner, and then yes I get irritated when grimy men do the same when I walk by. There is absolutely a double standard. I don’t appreciate being treated like a piece of meat, but, when a meaty dark-haired blue-eyed hunk brushes by me, I turn my head and make sure I get a nice view of his backside as he walks away. I know I’m not alone. All of my women friends do the exact same thing.

We all have needs. We want to be touched, we want fingertips to run down our backs and we want heavy breathing and incredible orgasms just as much as the next guy.

My personal sexual revolution is evolving everyday. I’m constantly growing into my sexuality as are most women in their “twenty somethings”…and the word on the streets is that we haven’t even hit our prime.

That little piece of info makes me want to do a hitch kick.

I’d really like to see more women living up to their sexuality, embracing it and not being afraid to be open and honest about their desires–just like men. After all, it’s the only way to bust through the misnomer that we “don’t need to get laid”.

WE DO.

I do.

The next thing on the sexual revolution agenda? Creating our own line of chick “guy” movies. SuperBad, I’ll take you on.