A very good friend of mine once said:
There comes a time in every woman’s life when she realises that meaningless sex just is no longer enough.
She then went on to follow this up with:
This is quickly followed, however, with the realisation that even meaningless sex is better than none at all.
Now, my friend’s situation was that she was single following an extremely painful break-up and that since the split, the only sex she had had, had been casual encounters, the majority of them one-night stands, where there was no commitment and little or no feelings involved. The sex she was having was, by her own admission, being had pretty much only for the sake of having sex, to scratch an itch, or just simply “keeping her hand in” (although, I suspect, it was actually more to do with giving her hand a rest, but that’s another story…) To her, the sex was meaningless, not because she didn’t enjoy it, because she would be the first to admit that, generally, she did, but because there was a lack of connection with the guys she was having sex with. The truth was, she missed the closeness and connection that she had had with her long-term partner and that the sex she was now having was driven more by hormonal/emotional needs rather than any feeling or desire on her part.
Remembering this discussion when I recently caught up with her again, got me thinking.
In some ways, our situations had a lot in common. Before meeting Master C, I too had experienced a bad break-up and betrayal of trust that, for one reason or another, sent me down a path that involved a lot of casual sex that, by my friend’s definition could be considered “meaningless”. Certainly I attached very little emotional investment in the guys I fucked, even the ones I quite liked and, so, fucked more than once. The quality of the sex varied; from the absolutely awful to the multiple-orgasmicly fantastic; but was it meaningless?
I guess this is where my perspective and that of my friend differ; and the main reason for that is, I suspect, age. My friend was, more or less the same age I am now when she went through this. When My betrayal happened I much younger, having not long graduated. She was already secure in her sexuality and sexual identity; whereas for me, I was still very much at the novelty stage (given most of my early sexual adventures happened while I was at university). As a result, where my friend found the whole experience unsatisfactory, I was, in a way, very much still learning what I liked. Each guy (and girl) that I fucked taught me something new, both about sex, and about myself. For me there was an excitement about each encounter, whereas for my friend, it was just another repetition of the same situation that served only to remind her that she was single and what she wanted most was the companionship of a loving relationship.
In that way, she was, I confess, much more mature than me, but that is understandable. She had had her experimental phase in her teens, met her “ideal” guy at Uni in her early 20s, settled down and was planning a future with him when his betrayal turned her world upside down. In my case, I was still a naïve young woman who was happy to fuck any guy that paid her any sort of attention (“what has changed?”, I hear you ask). That’s not to say I regret my promiscuity, I don’t, it taught me an awful lot about myself and allowed me to hone the skills that Master C, “The Girl” and “The Other Guy” now enjoys on a regular basis, but I will admit that I could have been a bit more selective in some of the guys I fucked.
So, for me, casual sex may not have had much meaning to it, but it certainly wasn’t meaningless. Perhaps, in the words of my friend, I hadn’t come to that “time” in my life.
Oh, and before I forget, one other similarity that we share is that, just as I met Master C, she did eventually meet someone with whom the sex clearly did mean something. I say that because she is now happily married and the reason we caught up was that I was a guest at the christening of their second child (whom I managed to give back without dropping). I must, however, point out that as much as I am delighted for her, this did not ignite any feelings of broodiness on my own part.
So can sex ever be meaningless? I guess that really depenmds on the experience and perspective of the person that is having the sex in question.
As for sex and love, well, for me at least, while I enjoy all the sex I have with whomever I have it with, the best sex of all is definitely the sex that I have with Master C, followed closely by the sex I have with both “The Girl” and “The Other Guy”. I will be honest and admit that I do love all three (albeit in very different ways); so I would have to say that, as far as this little slut is concerned, love does make sex better.