We have all been there, even if we don't want to admit it, we have. Now when it first happened to me (and yes, I have been the victim of this kind of 'hit an run' on more than 1 occasion) I had to admit I had no real basis for comparison. Fresh out of a relationship that spanned longer than the average prison sentence for murder yet bore a striking resemblance to being incarcerated, my sexual road trip had only taken me from teenage cherry popping lane to the mid twenties motorway of monotony with only ever having one passenger along for the 'ride'...literally. So with this in mind accompanied with an extremely low moral threshold I embarked on what I had hoped was going to be my sexual revolution of carefree, mind blowing casual sex with newly acquired passengers that I would pick up along the way.

I packed my personal vehicle with positive thoughts, a brand new wardrobe and a whole heap of cheap rose wine and set off with great enthusiasm in pursuit of my first dalliance into the world of great, satisfying sex.

This was it, I had made it to my very first pit-stop with a brand new passenger and I was so so excited. I had waited so long to experience the sheer all consuming passion of great sex and the moment was finally here.... and so, as I lay there with this new lover I continued to wait and wait and wait some more.

At first I put his awkward fumbling down to nerves, then I dismissed his inability to put the key in the door to the actual vehicle as him being slightly geographical disoriented, however when the jack-rabbit style hammering began I was clean out of explanations. As I lay there with my head banging off the wall to an incomparable rhythm, I looked up at the sweaty, squirming specimen on top of me and wondered..is this it?

As he continued to pound away as if he was drilling for oil with a look of stern concentration on his face I tried my best to embrace the situation and go with the flow. Unfortunately this was not to be. I was in what I can only describe as a vice-like grip somewhat reminiscent of the hold a dog has on your leg when it is humping it. In fact I began to surmise that this is actually how your leg feels when it is being humped by said dog.

There where no hands caressing, or soft lips kissing, no thrill of arousal, just a crazy penis on a pot holing expedition through my cave. I began to hope that I would be knocked unconscious by the repeated hammering of my head against the wall. When this didn't happen I just closed my eyes and began to plan what I could make to eat out of the blue molded cheese, half a chill and tub of mayonnaise that was currently residing in my fridge.

I was so caught up in my thoughts that I hadn't realized that the ordeal was over until I heard a voice exclaim 'awe man that was awesome, I wrecked that!'. I lie to you not, those where his actual words. And as I lay there with my hopes, dreams and lets face it my dignity shattered (as my abandoned cave was embarrassingly on show) I couldn't help but feel so disappointed and let down.

There is nothing as truly awful as 'bad sex'. It kind of creeps up on you unannounced, slaps you up the face and runs off into the night leaving you feeling hollow and disappointed. The most important thing is not to let it put you off for life. Just chalk it up to yet another experience on the road to true sexual fulfillment.

As I threw myself back on the bed, moist with sweat, tingling from head to toe I looked at it and couldn’t believe it was still standing, still wanting more! My back ached and my hands where throbbing from exploring new crevices and previously uncharted territory, yet the feeling of extreme jubilation and euphoria could not be described.

It looked like it could take more, be straddled one last time but I wasn’t sure if I could take much more...................................................

After all I had just spent 4 hours erecting a flat pack TV unit and subsequently hooking up my DVD player and proudly securing it a place on top of the fore mentioned work of art. To have it collapse due to overloading would be more that I could bear at this point. (But then you had all guessed that already from the opening paragraph)

Yes that’s right, moi, of the female origin had obtained her very own personal set of screwdrivers and completed her very first piece of DIY in her newly acquired home and boy did I feel chuffed!

My head was buzzing with empowering thoughts such as, ‘I don’t need no man to pay my rent or build me furniture!’ In fact with the right strength of AA batteries and a little gift from Miss Summers herself I didn’t really have much need for a man at all. And so I set about my self-sufficient life happy in the knowledge that I did not, in any sense NEED a man... for anything.

Then disaster struck, I got the kick-ass flu to end all flu’s!!! I am talking high temperature delusions, a runny nose of Olympic standards and of course the obligatory dose of self-pity. Now don’t get me wrong my ever loyal army of friends where immediately on hand to run to the chemist, make hot drinks and replenish tissue supplies. However it just seemed like something was missing and I couldn’t figure out what, after all I had everything I could possibly NEED.

It suddenly dawned on me that in my quest for a happy life I had only focused on what I needed to merely make my life function as opposed to what I wanted and what in turn would enhance my life. If truth be told what I wanted was a man...yes I said it. I wanted a brand new shiny one of my very own, not to put in the draw with my newly acquired tools but one to lay there in my flu-soaked sheets with me and cuddle. One to tell me that even thought I looked like something out of a Freddie Kruger remake I was still the most beautiful girl in the world to him. This was not some cold and flu remedy straight off the shelf that I NEEDED to get better, no it was what I wanted in order to feel better.

Deep down we all want that plus 1 to be there to hold our hands. It doesn’t mean that we need them so we won’t fall down it just means the walk feels better with them next to us.

1 can work on its own but it can be the loneliest number and we all know that 1 plus 1 makes for something bigger, stronger and better, after all it’s simple math!