I'll admit it: I talked at length about sex with an ex, namely Behinder (the guy my friends say I am still in love with). I usually cringe when calling him an ex, because we only really dated for a couple of weeks, but whatever. Right? We dated. It was hot and heavy and surprisingly serious. He's an ex.
It started when I shared the comments of, interestingly enough, one of the same people who has been jeering me about still having feelings for the guy. "You need the sense fucked into you," he said. I might as well come up with a name for the guy, since I've mentioned him twice now. Er... yes. The Goblin, because it suits his personality well.
Goblin was harassing me about having hot and heavy sex talks with behinder on a semi-regular basis. Prompted by me? No, no, definitely not. Behinder would go out of his way to try and bring up past shared sexual experiences to gauge my reaction, or tease me with things he knew I found arousing. His coup de gras was getting me to masturbate after getting so excited that I couldn't help myself. Not in his presence mind you. Just online via chat. Of course, he was doing the same thing.
Was it wrong? It felt wrong, but oh-so-right at the same time. Later, much later, I found out that he was dating the STD nurse during this whole eight month long fiasco. She had no idea at the time what her boyfriend was doing with me, nor did she know of the overlap between us when they first met. Eventually she 'forgave him' his transgressions, because "nothing physical ever happened". Whatever helps you sleep at night, right?
When I found out about him having a girlfriend while seducing me yet again, I blew up. Wasn't pretty, but was drawn out. I felt betrayed in ways I couldn't describe - even more so than if we'd done the deed (again). Why? Because to me, the seduction was more intimate than any sexual encounter Behinder and I had shared - and we'd shared some intensely personal sessions. And so now, I won't talk sex with an ex - because I know now that (a) he's probably got someone else I don't know about, and (b) its so much more intimate for me to get in my head than get in my pants.