Editor’s note for this series: Times are weird right now. Confusion. Anxiety. Panic. It’s been a rollercoaster of emotions these past few days. There’s a lot to observe when we’ve been forced to take a long collective pause. For our writers, they are working on their classic vulnerable OOM stories, and they are also bringing the funny, the reflective, and the weird bits we’ve all been experiencing during isolation. This new series, “Isolation Observation,” is meant to bring you into the very real worlds of our writers. Some go deep, some very light, and some in between. We’re all here in this together. xo Alex
Yesterday, my husband and I had sex before our daily 8 a.m. walk, and by 11 a.m., I was already having thoughts about round two. As I was sitting in my office, listening to him yammer away on sales calls in his office next to mine, I had vivid thoughts about knocking down his door, completely naked, tossing his phone to the side, and pleading with him to cum inside of me again. (Mom + mother-in-law, remember when I told you not to read any of my articles? I warned you. You have no one to blame but yourself.)
Amidst a pandemic, global chaos, and financial uncertainty, I’ve never been hornier. For reference, last month, my husband and I barely had sex, predominately because I was never in the mood. I had an awful period, lots of travel, and overall just felt really shit about myself. Sex was the last thing on my mind. Ironically, it took the world to come to a halt for me to be consumed even just by the idea of sex.
Besides the pulsing desire for physical lust, my brain hasn’t been this sexually active in a long time. I’ve been imagining sexual scenarios, fantasizing about having outdoor sex, visualizing my orgasms, and polishing up my dirty talk lines. Even when I’m not having sex, my brain is dreaming up my next orgasm.
I’m at a loss for words to try and understand why my body (and mind) possibly chose this time to be so goddamn aroused. While most people are consumed with thoughts about our collective unknown future, I’ve entered into a weird sexual twilight zone. I’m not kidding, the sound of birds singing could get me off right now.
When I turned to Google to find answers, I read an article highlighting a study on middle-aged women that indicated that “positive physical contact” helped reduce stress, while emotional support alone didn’t have the same impact. While that doesn’t necessarily explain why I’m so horny, especially during the most illogical of times, it does comfort me knowing that maybe what we all collectively need is physical human touch, to reduce our stress and remind us that the world is going to be okay. That we are going to be okay. I mean, we have nothing else to do, right?
Even if you don’t have a partner to isolate yourself with, not to worry, there are plenty of reasons to masturbate as a stress reliever.
As for my vivid sexual thoughts at 11 a.m. yesterday morning…. I walked over to my bedroom, dusted off my giant vibrator, and went to town in my bathroom. The world may be ending, but goddamnit, I’ll make sure to savor every bit of orgasm I can before it does.