A lot of people who have read the article below about bad sex have said to me that the sentiments expressed ring all too true for them. In fact the overwhelming number of woman who can identify with this kind story is quite astonishing and so it made me think. Are we, as females destined to just sit there (or lay there) and let sexual fulfillment pass us by? Are we to hope that maybe we will be lucky enough to come across the rare and endangered specie of man, who actually knows what he is doing when it comes to sex and who is willing to put our needs before his? OR do we take matters into our own hands.......literally.

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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!

I am being constantly ridiculed for my extraneous over use of the phrase, 'back in the day'. It has, in essence, become a prefix or opener for the majority of my ramblings.

However, never has it had a more suitable outing than now, because 'back in the day' before computers, social networking and mobile phones where thrust upon us having an affair took more strategic planning and covert dedication than an MP's attempt to claim expenses.

Society is awash with extra-marital outlets. From websites targeted specifically to accommodate cheating to a culture that endorses a dependence on mobile phones to tweet, update status and generally exchange meaningless one syllabus messages, the world is indeed a 'virtual infidelity minefield'

I always used to look upon cheating as a physical act needing the actual presence of two people. However in a culture of information overload where our need for a 'technology fix' is ever growing this is no longer the case.

Some couples have a complete blanket ban on any kind of flirting while others see it as harmless fun. However when does it stop being innocent fun and move to something more sinister where there is a real risk of people getting hurt? We only have to look in our newspapers and see the despondent faces of some of the celebrities whose partners where indulging in a bit of virtual flirting to see that it can indeed be hurtful.

Does it really count as cheating though? Is indulging in a spot of textual intercourse, or having a facebook flirt with someone as bad as jumping into bed with them?

If you are answering with a resounding no then ask yourself this.......do you panic if you leave your phone unattended when your other half is about or has your so called 'innocent' facebook flirting moved to private messaging?

Your reaction to these questions will let you know if viral cheating counts!

The conservative 50's gave way to an era of sexual revolution and explicit freedom in the 60's, where sex was sex and people literally got into the 'swing' of things with the art of partner swapping alive and well, while the 70's saw us 'blowing' away our sexual inhibitions

We where told in the 80's that anal sex was a 'whole lot of fun' and in the 90's women 'came' out on top as the reverse cowgirl rode her way into bedrooms across the globe.

But the naughties saw a different type of sexual trend being born where 3 in a bed was no longer a crowd and people where literally saying roll over. Ménage a trois was the new dish on the menu for sexually indulgent people everywhere. Couples introduced a guest star to their beds for one night only, while saucy singles offered themselves up as the extra ingredient in a sex filled sandwich.

However the end of the naughties gave way to two new phenomenas; a decade that didn't have a catchy ring to it and a new twist on the idea of threesomes. No longer did this three-way adventure involve 6 plump butt cheeks, but instead those extra pair of hands where replaced with the not so softly touch of a hidden agenda.

Most notably this new sexual trend has become widely publicised in the lives of our illustrious celebrities, as laid bare in excruciating detail on the front pages of our newspapers. Enveloped between the 4 writhing legs of the entangled lovers is that bed partner whose caress is longer lasting than any sweet filled kiss and it can ruin marriages, careers and over all lives.

A hidden agenda can be brought to the scenario by any of the participants and it is there not to seek sexual gratification but to gain all else that it can. Instead of tasting skin wet with sexual excitement it is tasting its proposed 15 minutes of fame. While the embracing lovers are being swept away by each others passion the hidden agenda is being swept away by the idea of getting one over on a spouse they feel has neglected them.

The climax for the hidden agenda is not sexual fulfillment but the accumulation of notoriety, financial gain and personal gratification (while most of the rest of us think we are lucky to squeeze an orgasm out of the situation).

This new sexual trend pushes the boundaries even further than before and raises the stakes to a whole new level. It would appear that only the more adventurous and sexually confident of us would be indulging in it but when you think of it, are there ever only two of us in bed or are we always having a threesome, after all people always have hidden agendas!

When dating online remember that sometimes people have hidden agendas too so make sure to ask the right questions and plenty of them!

For years now there has been a debate raging between scientists and psychologists and more importantly between men and women. The question of whether we are inherently predisposed to cheat on our other half by our genetic make up or whether it is a subsidiary effect of our environment is widely known as part of the ‘nature vs nurture’ debate.

The under laying question is; presented with the right opportunity would the average person succumb to their environment and cheat on their partner or would they regardless of circumstances refrain due to intrinsic human nature?

When looking at illustrious public figures whose indiscretions of this kind are widely publicised we cant help but wonder whether they where always destined to cheat or was it merely due to the environment they where exposed to. Is the high octane setting of money, casinos, expensive champagne and the every ready montage of fame hungry individuals available for casual sex natures over-ruling nemesis? OR is this view merely a convenient means of concealing the essence of human nature in some people, after all regular Joe soaps like you and I also cheat.

Is it as simple as that if you come from a home where you have witnessed the longevity of marriage, you are more inclined to replicate this due to behavioural traits nurtured in you in your upbringing.

Or do we cheat on our partners regardless of the environment we are exposed to because it is human nature to do so. Just as we might cheat in other aspects of daily life.

When considering all the dynamics involved in the debate you cant help but wonder where the issue of ‘free will’ comes in. Is there a Tiger in all of us or is that just a convenient excuse for bad behaviour?

When it comes to dealing with the opposite sex have you had the misfortune to make the number one cardinal mistake? The one that brands you a whore quicker than if you where an alco-pop filled teenager with their knickers round their ankles pressed against a grubby wall. Have you indulged in the action that is the equivalent to verbal diarrhea?

Then you too like I have been emotionally slutty!!

It usually works hand in hand with two other devious culprits and that is extreme nerves or intense alcohol consumption. You know the scenario, you are on the highly anticipated first date with the dream guy and all is going well until you steamroller him with the entire back catalogue of your sordid dating history warts and all.

Ex boyfriends, emotional insecurities, graphically detailed break-ups and ensuing emotional break-downs are laid bare at break neck speed to your horror. The only thing more horrifying than this is the subsequent look of bewilderment and terror on your dates' face!! Realisation that back tracking will only intensify the disaster leads only to one thought... and that is 'I wish I had a delete button'.

This is why I would through personal experience advocate online dating. Communication online holds a multitude of benefits especially for those of us that are prone to a bout emotional sluttiness.

Firstly and foremost you tend to be in the comfort of a familar environment which automatically elimates a certain degree of nerves. Your correspondng online date can not see you therefore your concentration will not be waviered bys thoughts of fashion faux paus.

Moreover because you have to physically type your conversation as oppose to merely opening your mouth and expelling gas, you are afforded a few milliseconds to indulge in the little known thought process. Therefore you are more likely to correspond with something cohesive and possibly even funny (at a long shot)!!

In summary you can type, delete, re-type, edit and proff-read before you unlease your own personal brand of intellectual garbage on what could possible turn out to be the person of your dreams.