I'm an introvert.If you're a Meyers Briggs aficionado, I'm usually an INFP...meaning I'm an introverted intuitive feeling perceptor
It actually sucks energy from me to be in a big group of people, causing quite a bit of anxiety and frustration on my part (because I often WANT to be social, but I sort of suck at it). This occasionally makes me a horridly out-of-touch, no-I-hate-people-right-now sort of friend. Those I'm lucky enough NOT to drive away with my regular bouts of STAY AWAY FROM HUMANS* are coincidentally the friends willing to help as well as needing help. Those inner circle types are few in my world. I digress, as usual, and likely you've stopped reading because you thought this was a sexy post. Ha!
It means people who need to disclose their issues gravitate to me, whether they know me or not. Now to be fair, strangers usually talk to me about relationship issues and leave sex out of the conversation. Random taxi drivers tell me ALL about their recent breakup during the hour long drive from Denver to the airport. I'm not making that up.
Friends and acquaintances have a fascinating mix relationship and sex issues, and they all talk to me about all of it. Cheating, love, crushes, marriage, divorce, sex, kink, the whole shebang. (indeed the word "s/he bang" was intentional. Because I'm clever. Occasionally.)
Seriously, it happens so often I've considered starting a sex advice blog (on an "adult" blog, obviously). This is occasionally awkward, often hilarious, and occasionally inspiring.
Well of COURSE I have an example.
A friend once came to me about her love life because she had issues orgasaming during sex and thought there was something wrong with her. This isn't unusual: happens to a LOT of women, but the reason why she has trouble trusting men enough to relax was...different. Her (ex)live-in boyfriend woke her up one night in trouble, needing help. Innocent to the different forms of kink in the world AND mostly still asleep, imagine her surprise when she found him stuck to the living room furniture, pants around his ankles, terrified and begging her to take him to the hospital.
He was into anal, you see. Receiving as well as giving, although she didn't know about either at the time, even after living together for over a year. He'd fastened a large dildo to a table and backed himself upon it while she slept unknowing in the other room. Apparently this had been going on for quite some time with no mention of his needs to her, and no, he wasn't closeted: just experimental.
Unfortunately, he'd heard that putting mustard on the dildo "increased sensation." In reality, it hurt like a motherfucker and he swelled so much he couldn't disengage and needed help, and emergency room visit, and soon after a new apartment. And she was a little screwed up by the various facets of the fiasco for many years. I gave her some recommendations (which worked, because I'm shameless and awesome) and as far as I know all is well with her husband (NOT the mustard dildo guy).
Today, however, the Universe gave me the what-for, possibly in response to my recent non-review of "mommy porn." I put on the sex-talk-hat for a different friend. This one has been married quite some time to a woman who's consistently had problems with sex, no matter how he woos her and tries. And he does try, diligently. He loves her buttloads** and wants a good, full marriage with her, but things have been lacking for quite some time. Well, whose marriage hasn't gone through desert spells on occasion? But when the "spell" lasts for over five years there's a goddamn problem. Seriously.
Well, apparently 50 shades of...ugh...is helping and he needed some ideas on what to do, because of course he's never read it. I considered referring him to Secretary, but honestly that may be over the top to start. Instead, I was inspired to write some seriously excellent scenes for my current novel AND I referred him to a couple fun sections at Fantasy Gifts. Because we all start somewhere, and discovering your spouse is a horny woman after reading smut should be fun, right?
*I feel I should qualify my "stay away from humans" statement because it doesn't include my husband, ever. In fact, I knew he was going to be my mate exactly when I realized that even when I want NO ONE around, I still want him around. And ten years later I still do, and he still puts up with my shit, so all is well and I can be SAST (super amateur sex therapist) for other people. Yay!
**Nope, I sure don't know exactly how much a buttload is, nor what multiples of that would be. I could've used a nicer term for loving someone a lot, but...why?