Guest Post: When getting fucked changes its meaning

Dear Sexless,

Let’s be honest, Peace Corps is not for the weak, and I’m not talking about the life-changing, child-serving white savior our kind of nonsense. I’m talking about being in my late 20’s in a town full of ‘almost-old-enough-to-drink’ boys that think yelling ‘bonjour’ at me is foreplay. Getting laid here is no joke, or no, it’s exactly that, the only fucked I am is the kind when I make five trips to my Gendarme and no one has apparently heard of a Carte de Séjour. When you live in a town the same size as your high-school, you know the pickings are slim. And beyond the kiddie sized pool of peach fuzzed prospective suitors — when you live in a town this small you can hardly say the word sex without every khalti, tata or khiti knowing what you’re thinking. Plus trying to sex someone here comes with a side of, ‘Can you help me buy a motor?’ Or ‘Do you want to pay for my bus tickets to Agadir?’. So with everyone in a 50 mile radius out of contention, who does that leave?

Cordially,

Underwhelmed & Undersexed

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#1 Sexless in the Peace Corps

This past summer I topped myself. I slept with more men in one season than I have since I started having sex. Everything was in place for me to do so – I was recently single, aggressively confident, and weeks away from moving to a developing country (where I knew my skills in bed were not why I was hired).

Since joining the Peace Corps and moving to this arid country, I’ve heard volunteers tell the same joke over and over; whenever anything remotely sexual happens we say, ‘that’s the most action that we’ve gotten in days, months, years’ – you get the idea. If I had a dollar for every time that I’ve heard that joke I’d have enough money to fly back to the US meet up with some of my summer flings and get fucked until the next election cycle.

Prior to releasing us into the wild, we had our hands held and our asses wiped, meeting every few weeks for training, mostly to share gossip – our own form of social currency, wash underwear, and bathe as much as needed. During one of the countless presentations that we are required to attend, to help us better serve we’re told, we were given several statistics on global Peace Corps sex habits. Statistically, within the first three months a quarter of us will get laid, a little less than half of us will hookup with a local by the time we leave, and by the end of the twenty-seven months, ninety percent of us will have had sex at least once.

I’ve been in the Peace Corps for about 3 ½ months now and regardless of the statistics, I’m more likely to get engaged here, than engage sexually or romantically with someone. While some of my fellow PCVs have paired up or hooked up, even broken up, I have had no such luck. I have more sexual attraction to my right hand than to any of the volunteers and I have adopted the old adage of not sleeping with coworkers. Sleeping with locals seems like it will require acrobatics and a degree of espionage, that I neither have nor care to acquire. Sex before marriage is frowned upon, homosexuality is illegal, and finding hookups will require me to travel a couple hours to the nearest big city by bus and get a hotel – and no matter the size of his dick, it’s not worth my hard earned money.

Last summer I fucked a record number of men and now I am hitting a record number of months where I get off knowing porn is as close to the real thing as it gets. I am deprived, probably even depraved, for lack of a better term, sexless.

Sincerely,

Sexless