I Confess: I Broke Up With Someone Over Sex

Many years ago I went out with a man that really turned me on — until we got into bed. He was beautiful to look at. He had a great body. His voice made me shiver. He treated me well. We had a good time together.

But when we got into bed — he had a few moves and none of them made me reach orgasm.

First of all, foreplay was so minimal that if I blinked I would miss it. A little nipple play and he was ready for penetration. I was not.

And he was fine with oral — as long as he was receiving it.

There were two positions. Missionary and me on top. Both are fun and I’m fine with them being part of sex. In fact, I do love being on top. But even when I was on top, it was his show. He wouldn’t just relax and let me get my groove so that I could reach orgasm.

We talked about it. I swear, I tried to get him to understand that I was having fun but I needed more variety and I needed an orgasm. At least most of the time. I’m fine with sex without an orgasm — if there’s lots of other stuff going on. But I don’t see why I shouldn’t have one when he’s having one and mine is not that difficult to obtain. I just needed him to listen.

Oral is one of my favorite sexual activities. I like giving. But receiving — that’s one of the most intimate things someone can do to me. And it is the way I find my orgasm about 95% of the time. So, ya. It’s pretty important.

After the first few times we were together and he didn’t go downtown, I came right out and asked him to. He did a little finger play and then pretty much ignored my request and moved on to penetration. I wasn’t really good at asking for what I wanted back then so I let it go.

I got frustrated though and so I talked to him about it again — this time, out of bed. I explained that it was really important to me and I needed that. Later that night, he actually did what I asked.

It was horrible. It was pretty obvious that no one had taught him how to go down on a woman. There was way more teeth than anyone could possibly be comfortable with. It actually hurt. I tried to gently tell him to go easy, softer, more tongue.

And then he rolled off and said, “If you’re going to tell me what to do and be all bossy I’m not doing that again.”

The other thing was anal. I love anal sex with someone that I am comfortable with. He said he’d never done it before and he wasn’t gay so it was never going to happen.

I tried talking to him about sex several more times but he cut me off every time.

So, I ended it.

The thing is, I didn’t end our relationship because sex was so bad. I ended it because he was so closed minded about sex that he didn’t want to have a conversation about it. I ended our relationship because he wasn’t willing to try new things. I ended our relationship because, as he told me, “You know way too much about sex.” He didn’t want to be taught anything. He didn’t want to learn.

Ultimately, he didn’t care about how much I was enjoying sex with him. He just wanted to get off.

I’ve never had sex that bad since. I’ve had mediocre sex the first couple times I was with someone. And we’ve talked about it. We tried different positions. He was willing to do what I wanted and I was willing to do what he liked. And the sex got so much better.

But I have no guilt about breaking up with someone because of sex. No one should have to put up with bad sex or even mediocre sex because if you have a good relationship you should be able to talk about your needs and desires and what works for you and your partner should want to talk about it and do things to make you happy. And vice versa.

If you can’t talk about it, where is your relationship going? Eventually, you’re going to have a problem outside of the bedroom that needs to be discussed. There’s a good chance that they won’t want to talk about that either.

So, I figure I did us both a favor. I ended it before we both got too involved. I ended it before we could come across more serious problems that could have made both of us miserable.

I confess — I broke up with someone over sex and I feel not even the tiniest amount of guilt about it.

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