I ran a little experiment today. I carried around note cards in my pocket, and between 7 am and
5 pm, I kept track of every time I thought about sex. Well, almost every time. I think the note cards made me think about it a little more than normal (like I really need that!), so I eliminated the thoughts about the note cards. And the thoughts about the thoughts on the note card. For the validity of research. And I must say, I was somewhat surprised by the results. There is a lot more sex in my head that I thought… And that’s saying something!
So here’s what I’ve learned–in 10 hours time, I had 25 different periods where I thought about sex. Some were short, some were long. There were passing thoughts, and then there were fantasizes. I talked about sex 4 times. I would say that the sex thoughts lasted anywhere from 20 seconds to 5 minutes. Two incidences were about 10 to 15 minutes. That gives me an approximate average of 3.5 minutes apiece. That rounds out to about 1 hour 27.5 minutes I spent thinking about sex during my work day. If my math figures out right, that means that I thought about sex just about every 20 minutes.
Room for Error
Overall, I would say that today was an “average” day, but everyday is different. M and I only talked about sex via text once today. That’s less than normal. And it’s Monday (yuck) and I was functioning on about 3 hours of sleep, so needless to say, I was not firing on all cylinders, probably lowering my numbers a little bit. I only met with one client today (which never happens; an average day I’ve got 4 to 6 home visits). Depending on who I’m meeting with, sex may be talked about/thought about more often. But overall, today was normal.
So here is how it all played out…
- Got up at 6:45. Quickly checked out my e-mail and read a few posts. Thought about sex, but I didn’t start my time yet. So none of this counts.
- 7:00. Went in my bedroom to throw on some clothes. Images from last night’s love-making ran through my head.
- 7:05. Weighed myself (which I do every morning. I’m a little OCD). I always do this right before I get in the shower. Naked. As I stepped on the scale, I happened to run my hands over by breasts. This got me distracted and I stood there for a bit, lightly touching myself.
- 7:26. A new post idea popped into my head. If you’re reading this, I’m sure you can figure out that it was probably about sex.
- 7:30. Getting dressed. Pulled out some pretty blue panties. Starting thinking about the
threesome thing for M’s birthday. If it is actually going to play out, I’m going to have to buy some sexy panties. Got a little distracted thinking about M’s birthday.
- 7:32. There were still some sex toys laying out from the weekend. I put them away so the babysitter wouldn’t see them. Can’t really handle my wand and flogger without thinking about sex.
- 7:45. Started thinking about affairs, particularly men who cheat. Ones that love their spouses, but still seek sex outside the marriage. Probably an upcoming post on that…
- 8:05. Straightening my hair. Start thinking of a conversation M and I had with our friend W the other day. W’s gay and M had asked him if he was a top or bottom (which impressed me that M even knew these terms). We ended up in this drunken conversation and W said something along the line of “Really, how many people like getting fucked in the ass?” I turned right around on my bar stool and said, “I like being fucked in the ass.” It might not sound like it now, but it was pretty funny at the time. So thinking about W and being a top (which I’m kind of surprised by) and envisioning it in my head.
- 8:30 to 9:00. In my car on the way to work. Random thoughts. Thinking of making a sexual Bucket List. What would be on it? Do I share it with M? Then two different songs came on the radio talking about cocaine. Now, I haven’t done coke in a long time. But I love to do coke and fuck. LOVE it. And I’m not encouraging anyone to do drugs. Drugs can be very bad. I work with addicts, I know. But if you have a bit of a drug history, you know what I’m talking about. Coke and sex go hand in hand… Then I start thinking about the post I wrote last night (you haven’t seen it yet) on a female’s perspective of the joy of sucking cock. And this leads me to think about how much I love sucking cock. Then I start thinking of sucking M’s cock. Then I start to get wet. So I start to sing along to the radio to distract myself. Right before I arrive to the methadone clinic (where I’m meeting my client), I remember a conversation I had with an old co-worker. He and I were driving home from Philly one day (about a 6 hour drive) talking about, guess what, sex, and he told me how impressed he was with me — “You think just like a man.” I don’t know what he meant by that, but I’ll take it as a compliment. But it got me wondering how men think about sex differently then women.
- 9:30. Still with my client. He’s talking about something, I don’t know. I’m completed distracted **I need to warn you, this is disturbing** by wondering how he has sex. How do you have sex when you weigh 550 pounds? Can you even have sex? Can you even find your cock? I don’t know. It bothered me, but I couldn’t stop thinking about it. What makes it worse, he smells like cat piss. It makes my eyes burn.
- 10:05. I’m sitting at the Social Security Administration. I don’t know if you’ve ever been to the SSA, but it sucks. And you have to wait forever. And the waiting room is really small and it’s super quiet. I’m sitting next to the cat piss guy. And I’m staring off into space, zoning out (damn you 3 hours of sleep). And I completely have this visual image of M’s cock sliding in and out of my pussy. Over and over again. I can see the moisture, the pulling on my lips. I must have been lost in this thought for a good 3 or 4 minutes before I snap out of it. I get up and started pacing around the office… Not that I wasn’t enjoying the memory, but it was getting kind of intense.
- 11:oo. I stop in to the smoker’s shop to buy tobacco. Everyone in there is talking about Whitney Houston. Someone brings up Anna Nicole Smith, and how she fucked that old guy and ended up with millions (I know, I know, they were in love). I start to think about it and wonder if I would continuously fuck an old guy (a really old guy) hoping that he would leave me all his money. I thought about this for a while. I still don’t have an answer.
- 11:12. Waiting in line at Wendy’s for a Pecan Apple Salad (which is fucking excellent by the way). A flashback to last night. Doggy style. M bent over me. His chest against my back. His hand on my clit. Mmmm….
- 11:15 to 11:30. On my way to the office. Start thinking about a boy I know, who really likes sex. I run through multiple scenarios where he is fucking me. Where I am fucking him. Where he and M are fucking me. You get the picture.
- 12:35 to 12:45. I spend the last bit of my lunch break outside smoking. It’s cold as shit, so no one else is out there. I pull out my nook and read. Guess what I’m reading. Erotica. Surprised, right?
- 1:00. Now I’m back at my desk. Typing case notes. And I’m wet. And uncomfortable. Squirming in my seat.
- 2:00. Walking into a meeting with a co-worker. The Good Girl. She asks me about this sex toy website I write reviews for and get products to sample. She has a lot of questions. As we sit down at the round table, I tell her we’ll talk about it later. Now I keep thinking of sex toys and lingerie.
- 2:45. Still in the meeting. It’s boring. I’m trying to focus on what my boss’s boss is saying, but instead, I’m staring at him, wondering what his kinks are. Does he like to be spanked? Tied down? Choked? I have a really bad habit of imagining what people are like in bed. People I have no desire to fuck. People I’m not even close to attracted to. It happens a lot when I first meet people. Or when I’m sitting in boring meetings where I can’t focus.
- 3:15. Smoke break with the Good Girl. She tells me that she hasn’t had sex since July (!?!). She is so excited because her boyfriend is coming home from Korea next month. She’s never talked to me about sex, but last week we went to lunch. I mentioned I wrote… well, you can read the post. Apparently now she’s comfortable talking to me about sex. I don’t mind. I’m comfortable talking about sex. With just about anybody.
- 3:55. Get a text from M. We flirt back and forth a bit. I mention the good fucking last night. He agrees. I ask for a recap tonight. He responds, “Sure.”
- 4:30 to 4:50. Driving home from work. Thinking about the Good Girl asking about my
reviews. I said I would show her. I think about the review I wrote on this outfit. It came with a paddle. I start thinking about the paddle. I’m thinking about being spanked. Feeling the tingle, the burn, on my ass. By the time I get home, I’m horny.
- 4:55. Get home. Have to take one of the kids to dance. On my way out the door, I lean up to give M a kiss. As a back away, my hand drops and runs over his cock. He gets pissy. My grandmother is in the next room. I roll my eyes and leave.
So there you have it. A typical day in my head. It seems to have gotten worse (better?) since I’ve started blogging. Now I can justify my thoughts about sex. It’s brainstorming for posts. It’s my blogging duty to think about sex. 🙂 Who couldn’t ask for something better to think about? I don’t know, dear reader. How much do you think about sex? Keep track. You may be surprised…