How do you make a one-night stand into a two-night stand without seeming desperate, horny, or easy?
I'm gonna be that person and answer your question with another question: why does it matter?
Or, okay. You don't give us a ton of details, so let's whip up a sexy hypothetical situation.
You meet someone on OKCupid. Let's say this person's name is Sam. Sam is attractive and confident. Sam splits the mozzarella sticks with you and makes legitimately funny jokes about hipsters. Sam brushes your hand when reaching for the olive oil and you feel a distinctly wonderful rush of blood to all of the right places. In the lobby of your apartment building, Sam looks left and right to make sure no one is coming and kisses you, hot and sure and sweet, a little tongue but not too much. Sam asks to come upstairs, and you want Sam to come upstairs. In your living room, there is some pretense of drinks or coffee or something. Sam uses the bathroom. You pour glasses of whiskey knowing that neither of you will drink them. In your room, Sam teases you so badly that you have never wanted to fuck someone so badly in your whole life. Safe sex accouterments are procured from your nightstand, or Sam's bag, either, both. You fuck so loudly a neighbor bangs on the wall. You do that sex thing that you read about that one time but haven't been able to try on anyone since then. You drift off to sleep after Round One but wake up in the early hours and Sam wakes up too, and pretty soon you are fucking again, and then it's three a.m., and then it's dawn, and you realize that you have work, and Sam showers and dresses and in the doorway of your apartment you have the same kind of awkward small talk that can happen in daylight. Sam walks down the hallway, waits a little too long for the elevator, and then is gone. You go to work and you feel a little high and a little distracted all day. You have Sam's number in your phone, still a series of digits instead of a contact. I got here a little early, but I'm sitting in the lobby in a black button-down shirt is the last text from Sam before you got to the restaurant last night. You can't stop thinking about Sam's hands.
This is the kind of situation where you want a one-night stand to turn into a two-night stand. And why not? Telling someone you want to have sex with them again is not an act of desperation. (Unless the act of you and Sam having sex is a last-ditch effort to avert an invasion of prudish aliens who are hell-bent on conquering our planet but cannot do so while a certain number of orgasms are happening at any particular moment. In that case, yeah, it's a desperate act—to save all of humankind.)
And "easy" (or easy's less euphemistic cousin, "slutty") is also a useless term to throw around unless you're a dating handbook from 1952. So you want to have sex? Guess what? So does everyone else. Including the person to whom you are so worried about coming across as easy. Sam saw your naked body contorted in paroxysms of pleasure last night. Are you worried that Sam, upon reading your follow-up text ("Do you want to, uh, hang out again? Tonight, maybe?") will say "My god, I know that we boned for six hours last night, but Charlie wants to do it again? For God's sake. What kind of an unrepentant pervert—"
You get the idea. Sam may not want to repeat the experience for private reasons, but those reasons are not going to include thinking that you're a horrible person for wanting to have more orgasms.
And "horny," wow, "horny" is a weird word. "Horny" is like "fat," a word which has negative connotations because of how society throws it around, but, when you really think about it, is actually a very neutral word with a very specific and judgment-free definition. In the same way that "fat" means "fat" and not "lazy," "ugly," or any of its other ostensible synonyms, "horny" just means itself. You're horny. You want to have sex. Just like everybody else in the world, including Sam, if last night is evidence of anything.
Anyway. The point is that if you want to have sex again, communicate with this person that you want to have sex again. You won't be able to do it by wishing or thinking at them. (And waiting for them to call is a really gamble if they're having the same worries as you.) One of my favorite sex bloggers, Cliff Pervocracy, calls this out every time it shows up on the pages of Cosmo: the idea that people should be psychically intuiting their lover's desires instead of just, you know, talking about them.
To sum up: you can either both sit in your respective houses, urgently wanting to repeat the previous deeply-satisfying sexual experience, but if you're both angsting about coming across as "wanting sex" (gasp!) to the other person, you'll just end up in a puddle of your own sexual frustration watching reruns of Flavor of Love. And that's no fun for anyone.
Make it happen! Olivia
CONFIDENTIAL to Writer Lover: All of writing involves some amount of ego. What you have to figure out is if his ego is higher than normal for a writer, not compared to your average Joe. And if he makes you feel like shit? Forget about it. I mean that. Forget about him.
Olivia Glass is not a doctor (but she is the author of Five Stages of Grief, an erotic novella published by Fleshbot Fiction. This column is for informational and entertainment purposes only. For more advice, head over to the Heart of Glass archive. If you have a burning question, email her at email@example.com. If you have a question about burning, call your physician. See more photos like this one at X-Art.