quizzical pussy

It was probably ten years ago at this point, or nearly. Reginald Sleeth, the ex boyfriend by which all my other ex boyfriends come out looking pretty good, and I were sitting in a little sushi bar in Santa Monica. If we were between fights it was no more than a momentary break in the clouds, and the sun was not peeking through. The mood was heavy. Pop music played in the background. Our conversation was stuck at lull as we waited for our food to come out. I listened to the music for a minute, nothing to say.

“I kind of always knew I’d end up your ex girlfriend,” I announced calmly.

“Why would you even say that?” he demanded, angry. “That’s not fair at all. What a disgusting thing to say.”

“Ummm the No Doubt song that’s playing? Right now? Those are the lyrics.” Given, it wasn’t exactly the height of comedy to repeat the words to the song playing, but I thought it’d lighten the mood or something. Nope.

“Oh.” Icy.

To be fair, we were basically always on the verge of breaking up. It was probably in poor taste. But I guess on some level I did, kind of always know. Just like the song says. Maybe I meant it.

Here are some confessions that feature exes.

My ex boyfriend is internet famous, and rightly so because he’s talented… annoyingly so. We still get along okay, I consider him a friend. But guys my type ALWAYS turn out to be humongous fanboys of his. After we have the past relationships talk they have a million questions and want me to introduce them. So I either have to lie or live with the fact that I’m less interesting to heterosexual men than my ex boyfriend.

I figure for every fanboy you’re attracted to, there’s a similar, also-your-type guy who thinks your ex is just a little overrated. Unless your type is specifically your ex’s worshippers, which honestly would be worrisome for those of us that care about you and want you to move on.

Also, you realize you can skip over all identifying information when you have that past relationships talk, right?

I had sex with my ex (who is dating someone else) and it was fantastic. I missed fisting him!

I don’t know if this is in a sneaky or ethically open context, but either way it never ceases to amaze me that people can fit fists in their butts.

My boyfriend got drunk tonight and kicked me out of his house. I don’t even know what I did and he wouldn’t tell me — said he didn’t like me anymore — I was asleep and he sat me up roughly, sent me outside, called a cab and gave me 40 bucks to pay for it.

At least he was a gentleman enough to give me some cash for the cab. I called a dealer I used to know, bought some awesome coke, and don’t feel the least big guilty about the drugs because all I feel right now is peace and understanding — and I know that it’s over once and for all. I don’t even feel sad. It’s just over.

And here’s the sex part — I’m going to keep fucking him. Best sex I’ve ever had, and I’m not about to give that up. I’m just not going to be emotionally involved anymore. I’ve given up a lot of offers for sex while I’ve been with him — and it hasn’t been a sacrifice — but I’m going to start looking up those offers and offer him FWB. He’ll take me up on it, and I’ll have great sex with him, variety, and none of this bullshit anymore.

Yay. Thanks for the high dood. I’ll be calling you next time I’m hard up.

Every time I’ve ever had a no-strings-attached arrangement with an ex there were oh so many strings attached. But that’s just me.

Who the fuck wakes someone up just to dump them?

We only had sex once, it was bad bad bad because we didn’t know what we were doing because we were so young, and I got pregnant (miscarriage). But I think about my first love every single day. I miss him.

But I know for a fact that he wasn’t a good person, and he’d probably treat me like shit if I tried to get him back. Yet I pine.

Not to make assumptions here, but have you talked to someone about how having that miscarriage affected you? Maybe your first love, who sounds like a much better ex than a boyfriend, is more or less incidental to this story.

A couple of weeks ago I confessed that I missed my exes beautiful penis (not the size one) well I’ve found a new man who may not have the world’s most beautiful penis but uses it better than anyone I have ever met. I have had my faith in the world restored, and also think I may be the luckiest girl alive.

The original confession appears here. I’m very glad you’ve found a penis (or at least a penis user) that you can get excited about again.

Also, if this new guy would like to offer any sex tips to my penis-using readers, that would be just super.