I’ve written a lot about conquering the fine art of the one-night stand.
In fact,one-night stands at Elite Daily are a very hot to trot subject matter. We incessantly discuss our collective one-nightersin our brainstorming sessions. We break them down, we analyze them, we reminisce on the days when our lives were defined by them and we swear to the higher power up above the last one-night stand WAS OUR LAST ONE-NIGHT STAND.
But I have something that I need to desperately get off my 32 B chest. Look, I’m not going to pretend to be all groundbreaking and smug and sex positive as I tell you “one-night stands don’t make you a slut!” like it’s new news. I’m so tired of writing those articles and I know you’re tired of reading them.
It’s 2016, and we get there should be no shame around being promiscuous or having as much sex as we want or sleeping with as many people as we desire.
However, however, how-ev-er, let me tell you all about a conversation I had last week and how it changed my point of view on random sex.
I was sitting poolside on Fire Island. For those of you who don’t know, Fire Island is a little gem of an island where Manhattanites seeking clean air and a beach (without the hassle of Hamptons traffic) flock to in droves when it’s too damn hot to bear even the most chic downtown rooftop bar.
Here I am, acting like the authority on Fire Island, but the truth is, I’ve only been to two parts of Fire Island — The Pines and Cherry Grove. Both of which are fabulously, gloriously, glitteringly g-a-y. The Pines is the boys’ side, while Cherry Grove is more lesbian-oriented. This weekend, I happened to be in The Pines with the boys.
We hadn’t even finished our first magnum of ros when the conversation quickly turned to sex. I mean, who could blame us? Sex was all around us.
We’re in a teeming sea of boys who were all dripping wet with perfect little gay beads of sweat dancing across their buffed bodies, shirtlessly flaunting their perfectly sculpted abs and just oozing horniness.
“IsGrindr,like, exploding with all these hot gay men contained in such a small space?” I asked my best friend, feeling the French braids he styled for me on the ferry ride there, feeling very Kylie Jenner chic.
“Probably. But I’m done with one-night stands and casual sex, I’m sick of how vapid it all is. I deleted my Grindr…” his voice trailed off as he gazed into his plastic cup of ros. He looked world-weary for just 31 (which is, like, 19 in gay years). Like he had seen too much in this harrowing lifetime.
But then again, I’m a famous drama queen. He was probably just tired from slugging back wine in brutal 90-degree weather.
But his words stayed with me later that night as I put myself to bed around 11 pm. I always put myself to bed around 11 pm when I’m in The Pines because I know hookup hour is soon approaching and I’ll be nothing but a liability to my friends.
I’ve been left wandering the foliage-covered beach paths deep into the night, looking for shelter while my boys were in the throes of passionate hookups one too many times. I’ve been left in gay bars, in hot tubs and in the middle of heated conversation when dick hour quickly approaches.
I’m 30 now and after years of experience, I finally know better.If you’re going to play with the queens, you respect their sexual needs.
Plus it gives me time to think alone, which is rare. I sat up in bed and thought about the idea of one-night stands being vapid. Suddenly all the one-night stands I’ve ever had came flying into the surface of my sun-soaked, boozy brain.
And I realized that in my more freewheeling casual hookup days, that while sometimes I never saw the hookups again or didn’t cultivate deep, intense feelings or have mind-blowing orgasms with them, there was nothing vapid about the experience.
In fact, some of the most intense conversations I’ve ever had in my life have been after one-night stands. Kittens, pillow talk is pillow talk is pillow talk no matter who you’re pillow talking to. It could be the love of your life or it could be a hottie you just met on the corner of 14th Street.
Regardless, there is a certain vulnerability to pillow talk that you will never have chatting with someone at a bar or dinner. All sex is intimate, even casual sex is intimate. Think about it, bodily fluids have been exchanged. Your hands have been deep in his or her hair. Spit has been swapped, lips have been locked, legs have been intertwined and you’ve keyed into your pleasure center.
You have to be vulnerable in order to feel pleasure. Not to mention, you’re very naked when you have sex and being in the flesh is the very definition of what it means to be vulnerable.
I’m convinced the best conversations happen post sex. I mean you’ve already had someone insideof you, so what is there left to lose after that? No need to act prim once you’ve seem someone’s vagina up close and personal (sorry to be graphic, but I don’t know how else to get my point across).
Once a human being has moaned into your ear, there really is no holding back, baby. The walls will gorgeously come tumbling down. And with a one-night stand, the beauty is, you know you will probably never see your languid one-night lover again.
Here you are, lying naked with this person you have zero desire to date, but you have this weird inherent trust toward him or her, because the two of you have just had a really intimate experience together. So why not just drop the bullshit and be real and get into a deep convo?
I’ve spilled secrets to one-night stands I’ve never told anyone before. And more often than not, they have spilled their deepest, darkest secrets back at me. And before you know it, you’re having this amazing little pillow talk and get all the stuff that’s been plaguing your sad broken heart off your heavily weighted chest.
And then BAM, they leave and you never see their faces again. Yet it’s this sacred experience you will never, ever forget and all these little one-night stands and secrets that have been exchanged sift into the universe and become part of the energy in the world.
So yes, while one-night stand sex can be disappointing or drunken or it get old really fast, the best, most precious part is the amazing pillow talk afterward.
So don’t shame spiral over having so many one-nighters, my fellow girl slut. Think of all the incredible conversations you’ve had while twisted up in those cheap hotel room sheets with a total stranger.
What would your life be without them? Basic. Boring. Colorless.