A good F*ck Buddy is hard to find…

This contribution is brought to by guest writer Cruella DeVag.

I recently had the opportunity to talk to an old friend on the phone. And by old friend I mean a guy I know through my ex boyfriend of two years.  This friend and I were catching up on the latest news in each other’s lives when he asked, “So what about you? Are you seeing anyone?” Like any self respecting woman without a boyfriend and zero prospects on the radar I responded, “Definitely not!  I’m just playin the field.”  “Glad to hear it,” he said, “‘bout time you finally caught on to the benefits of being single.” 

Yes, there are some wonderful benefits to being single, and believe me, this HotHotMess has no business getting into a committed, long term relationship right now, but where the hell are the short-term fuck buddies in this town?!  I know they exist, my friends have managed to find a few.  I’m talking about those good old, normal guys that just wanna spend a little time with a lady and be inside her on the reg.   The guys you date for a few months, have some fun, and then go your separate ways with some good memories and some new moves.

So what kind of guys have I met in the last month? First there was the Cupcake Marine, a ridiculously good looking GI Joe who was saccharine sweet.  The flowers on the second date were thoughtful, but when he showed up to meet me at a bar later that week with pre-ordered, custom-designed cupcakes and an authentic jersey for my favorite NFL football team I knew he wasn’t just “DTF” but “DT get married and have 2.5 kids”.  After two more dates and even more gifts, I had to pull the plug.  Then there was the Silver Fox, a handsome and debonair 39 year old who I immediately wanted to bone and probably would have by now if he didn’t live in Texas.  That’s right, a few days at a time in DC does not a fuck buddy make. 

                  

And then there was the pièce de résistance of my recent romantic follies; the resurface of the dreaded ex two full years after I stopped communicating with him.  Though I took a certain amount of pleasure in him saying that breaking up with me was the biggest mistake of his life (duh) and that he was still in love with me (who wouldn’t be), whack job has more issues than Vogue and I’m just not into good sex with a side of crazy.

                  

So if you know a guy in the metro area who is good in the sack, under 35 and not totally fucking insane, send him my way.  In the meantime, I’m glad I have my vibrator.  

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In true hothotmess fashion there will be no true rhyme or reason to the postings so you should be happy to take what you can get.

Are You a Sex Machine?

A computer can win Jeopardy and a vibrating battery operated...well to be straightforward, dick can get your girlfriend off – so maybe machines really will take over the world?

On a casual Friday night a group of reserved and not so reserved white girls gathered in the very white and beautiful Chevy Chase neighborhood as Cruella deVag and Betty Cocker hosted a sex toy party! Yes, we freaky white girls prefer to have our sex toys brought to us as opposed to schlepping to the neighborhood sex shop.

Our sales consultant informed us that her orgasms were tax deductable and phrases like, “I’m into the crotch-less thing,” and “My ex-fiancé gave me my vibrator...I got rid of one of them,” were spewed. Girls secretly spilled hints about their sex lives by showing too much interest in the products like “Anal Ease” and not so secret bedroom behavior was exposed when girls openly admitted things like “…but I do that with regular candles,” when referring to a heatable wax that won’t burn you during your Ricky Martin ‘livin la vida loca’ video foreplay.  

The end result of our little sexscapes left our hosts with a whole lotta empty wine bottles in their house and their guests with $50 - $300 less in their designer wallets than when they walked in the door. What? You thought sex toys were cheap? 

Of course us girls could not be more excited to try our new goods out, the funny thing is that some of the boys, upon hearing what we had invested in were not so into it. Granted I think there is a normal mixed reaction to sex toys among men, but I’m always interested to know the reasoning behind why a boy would be freaked out or shockingly appalled by a girl getting her lovin’ on all by herself. I mean boys start yankin it in what, like middle school? Not us. In middle school we are awkwardly getting hair in places it’s never been and sprouting boobs and hips. Then in highschool it’s all boy crazed chit-chat and blowjobs until that Vcard goes and then for most it’s a slippery slope as a few years spent as a slore that leads us into college where most girls then find the sexual confidence to start having sex with themselves. I even know a few late bloomers just getting into it now...poor things.

Ultimately I think it is important to keep a healthy balance in your sex-to-sex toy ratio. Girls, while your vibrator can get the job done oh-so efficiently it can’t take you to dinner or tell you that you look hot so don’t pull a Charlotte (boys, you will have no idea what I’m referring too so don’t worry about it). And gentlemen, get the fuck over it. We masturbate. It happens. And it’s great, so drop the weirdness and join the freakin party, if you’re lucky enough to be on the guest list that is. 

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In true hothotmess fashion there will be no true rhyme or reason to the postings so you should be happy to take what you can get.

Is anyone in their mid twenties really that satisfied with their body?

As girls, we are constantly talking about how fat we are. Sometimes we mean it, sometimes we don't. Sometimes we talk about it while at the gym, sometimes we talk about it while eating a Five Guys cheeseburger after a night of heavy boozing. Needless to say, these bodies are a changin'. And while we twenty something girls might not be the smoking foxes we were at 17, I’ve noticed that a lot of the boys I know aren’t exactly rockin’ the tightest bodies either these days, even publicly admitting they need to hit the gym.

How come when we were all sporting those cuter, tighter bodies we had no idea what we were doing in the sack? I can speak for myself and a few others when I say the sex in my life just gets better as I get older; I wish I could say the same for my body.

Not that any of us look bad, just more…real. You know real. Real in that we are at the point in our lives where there are 24 hours in the day and you have AT LEAST 25 hours worth of shit to do. Lets be honest, sometimes the gym is just not as important as happy hour if I have two free extra hours. These days if I get to the gym for 45 minutes 4 times a week I think I deserve a reward…Preferably in the form of a piece of chocolate and/or some booze.

Now that we do actually know what we’re doing and what we want in the sack, I wonder if those flaws that we think are so important really are? And are the flaws that we see in ourselves what the other part of the equation sees as well? Does our 'we've got this figured out, I know what I want and I know how to give you what you want' attitude and skill make up for these flaws? Is this just how it is until we have the resources/mentality to go back to being the tighter-fitter version of ourselves? And if so will the sex be even better? Hell, maybe we do have something to look forward too...

Click here to follow HotHotMess.

In true hothotmess fashion there will be no true rhyme or reason to the postings so you should be happy to take what you can get.