A Cheeky Hormone Imbalance – Mustn’t Complain

Feeling “hormonal”, a term usually considered synonymous with neurotic and unbalanced, this week has manifested itself in me in a different (and much more enjoyable) form.

As previous blogs may have ascertained, I am in a long distance relationship with a man who I have been with for 3 and a half years. Long distance relationships completely throw your sex-drive and so I have weeks of feeling deprived and sad, weeks of insatiable lust and weeks of downright menopausal frigidity. Because of the irregularity of the sex after such a prolonged period, although I adore very aspect of it, it can be somewhat of a lucky dip when it comes to my moods.

This week, however, I have been feeling… horny. Not deprived or frustrated. Just horny. I haven’t had sex in 10 days, I have gone much longer and gone off it completely or I have had to do without and become frustrated and tense. This week, I am feeling frisky but I am enjoying the feeling of being frisky even though I know that it is unlikely I will get to “spend” anything until next week. Its just a nice feeling really.

I am amazed, though. I feel like a fourteen year old again when the slightest thing can flip you inside only horrific acne and teenage awkwardness is less of a symptom. Driving through the army base this afternoon to have lunch with colleagues and a squad of very buff looking chaps all jogged past and it was like my sex organs went berzerk! Like a light switch being turned on, just the simple visual stimulus of seeing lots of very manly men was enough to make me grin from ear to ear and giggle like a girl (and tingle a wee bit too).

Its not just in day to day life, however. I have been having an obscene amount of very sexy dreams both at night and during the day which leave my head spinning. The fantasies never stop to give me a rest and I often feel that if a nice boy gave me an opening shortly following one of these dreams (the Milk Tray man through with window type of thing) then I’d be on him like cream on a bun! A sexy man-shaped bun.

This fleeting chemical imbalance inside must be like what it is for men. Minimal effort, just insant gratification, and its lovely. The more I think about it though, the more I miss orgasming. I haven’t had an orgasm in a while and I miss it, maybe this is my body reminding me why orgasming in such fun and I should force myself to enjoy sex more often with my boyfriend (which with the prolonged distance taking its toll on our sexlife and being reunited at the station platform not being quite enough to make me want to rip off my jeans).

Men are lucky if this is what they get. Maybe I am actually a gay man in a woman’s body? I know that this phase won’t last forever but surely it is a sign that my bits and pieces are a bit lonesome and bored and they’re reminding me int he nicest way possibe that sex is the most fun you can have in life… apart from getting roaring drunk and having a curry but you can’t usually be naked for that.


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