Tuesday, July 26, 2011

Cheating On Me

We've all had boring sex. This isn't something that only some people go through. If you are over the age of 19, sexually active and have been sexually active for longer than a year, you have had sex that bored you. We are all familiar with this subject, especially those of us that have been in monogamous relationships.

This isn't always a sign of a bad partner. Sometimes it just means one or the other of you wasn't totally into it. In relationships, this happens from time to time. People have real lives. Sometimes you are sidetracked by something that happened at work. A certain time in my cycle leaves me less than aroused. So, there are those times when one person wants it and the other person takes one for the team. And, then there are just boring lovers. It happens. 

What does not happen, what should not happen is boring masturbation. But, it did. It happened. I would like to put the blame on someone else, but ... I was the only person there. Here's the issue. I have been having great sex. I've been sleeping with a man that is just about 8 years older than me and he falls right into, what I have deemed, that perfect sex age. People talk about how young guys get harder (I find this to be a unicorn tale) and can get hard immediately after coming (I find this to be unappealing.) Once you have been with a man over 30 (especially those over 35), you realize that most men in their early 20s just haven't had the years. So, the idea of a man getting hard 10 times a night and never once bringing me to climax seems akin to sitting at the DMV while someone loofahs my vagina. Yeah, it's the best I could do. Anyway, it seems very unappealing. I don't need you to keep getting hard over and over again if you are just using me as a pin cushion. I'd just as soon you come in 5 minutes and call it a night. 

Experience has the potential to make a man a better lover. However, there will always be older men that couldn't be concerned less with pleasing a woman. And there will always be younger men that are ahead of their time. But, this isn't a post to debate if older men or younger men are better in bed. This is a post about how the man I am currently sleeping with is such an amazing lover he's got my full attention. He has made other lovers far less appealing. Unfortunately, one of those lovers that has lost their luster is me. Somehow, this man has (momentarily) fulfilled me to the point where I'm bored with masturbation. 

The trouble is, I have built this relationship with myself. I give it up to me nightly. And if I don't, I feel like I'm losing touch with me, so to speak. I have sworn allegiance to masturbation. I have written, on many occasions, that I need to masturbate regardless of whether I am having routine sex with a (or many) partner(s). Sex and masturbation are two different things and have always had two very different roles in my life. 

So, you can imagine my confusion when I slide my hand into my panties and close my eyes tight to imagine whatever my "heart" desires, and all that comes to mind are replays of past evenings. This can be great. It's like being able to close your eyes and have a full interactive show. A show that is always in the cue and ready to play. Unfortunately, I slide my fingers (or my toy) into myself, only to suffer disappointment. It's not a lover. It's not him. It's just me again. This must be how it feels to have an affair. To be hyper turned on by something new, only to return to the same person day-in and day-out. 

You might think I am thrilled with this new lover. Someone that can fulfill me to the point where masturbation loses it's necessity sounds wonderful, right? Wrong. Because, when this guy is gone, I am going to be the one left picking up the pieces in my failed relationship with me. I am the one that is going to have to explain to myself that it was a momentary distraction and I really do enjoy making love to me far more than some man. I just needed a change, some variety. I only hope, when that day comes, I can forgive me.

In the meantime, I go through the motions, getting just wet enough and pushing just far enough to ease into a willing orgasm, tuck my toy away and fall asleep. Masturbation used to be one of the hottest parts of my sexual life. It used to be something I looked forward to. I would sit in lectures and dream about going back home for a long midday session. Lately, it's just not what it used to be. Like all other things, I am sure this is a phase and, soon, I will be back to my daydreams about self-love. For now, I am going to drift back into daydreams about last night. More to come on that ...

Sunday, July 17, 2011

Don't Pose

I could feel the grain of the wood under my nails. I was trying my hardest not to dig in and create gouges, driving splinters into my nail beds. I'm nothing if not respectful. If I leave a mark, it will be left on his body, maybe his sheets, but never his furniture. The restraint was not so overwhelming as to drown out the sensation of my hips spreading with every backward push. I could feel the stretch through my lower back and down the insides of my thighs. The pain was subtle and good.

I was poised, back arched, looking back to see what he could and could not see. I looked back, stretched my arms long and arched my back more, so I could see over my own ass. My left leg and arms were perfectly straight, right leg was bent up, with my foot propped on the same wood rail that my nails fought not to devour.  He brought his mouth close to my body and I twisted my spine more to raise my right breast to his lips. I twisted my right arm around the back of my body and shifted my ass up to give him a straighter shot in. Then, I looked into his eyes and, with a smile, he said said the words, "Don't pose." I could feel the shocks being absorbed by my spine and then ... nothing. The hands that had gripped my waist and hips were gone. I turned to see him standing two feet back, fighting what would inevitably come, putting off the final burst of pleasure, in order to stay in the moment. But, the moment was gone.

I had been working to see, working to feel. I wanted to feel him pushing deep inside. I wanted to feel his mouth on me and I wanted to see his arms as he gripped tighter. I hadn't been trying to pose. But, in a flash, my want for him had pushed his want for me to a place that neither of us could take. He pulled away from me and I shot up straight. I wasn't expecting his absence. So, there we stood, breath heavy and bodies tight, almost ready to strike.

"Lay down." His words were not a request. So, I slid over the wood rail and met the bed with my back, continuing to slide up the bed as he climbed on top of me. He didn't enter me immediately. He brought his mouth to me and slid his fingers inside me. He started by kissing me, but then his motions grew more nondescript. I could no longer distinguish his actions, only my sensation. His mouth was firm against me and his fingers were deep inside me. The sensations were all running together and, in order to not pull back, I had to release my thoughts and just feel.

Pain. It wasn't constant. It drifted in and out. Most of the pain was inside me. And it wasn't a pain that brought about thoughts of an inexperienced fumbling partner, knuckle deep, trying to feel his way around me. It was direct and deliberate. Every sensation was calculated. I drifted even further out of mind, sinking into my body. My hands made their way to the back of his head and pushed his face into me, as my pelvis pushed against him.

There was an impulse to push away from the pain, but my body was not connecting with my brain. So, as my body pushed harder into him, he pushed harder into me and the pain started to melt into pleasure, the lines becoming blurred and melting along with my thoughts and inhibitions. Slowly, the pain invited pleasure and I sunk into the pain, into the pleasure, into my orgasm.

My brain switched back on and words washed over my mind, devoid of structure. The word "complete" lingered just as the orgasm had. His mouth flooded my body with pleasure just as my body flooded his mouth. There were small bursts, each pushing me to higher levels of pleasure. I did not pull away. I waited for that moment when the orgasm would become too intense, and while I waited, time elapsed and the word "pure" drifted to mind. The sensation was just that, it was both complete and pure. My body relaxed and the feeling that began as pain became the purest pleasure I had ever felt.

I was radiating from head to toe as I pulled at his shoulders. He received the message and slid up my body. He pushed himself deep inside me and the orgasm shifted, but didn't stop. I was full of him and could feel my muscles contracting hard against him. I pulled at his lower back as if begging him to push harder. At this point, my body was begging his to come with me. I tightened against him as he fulfilled another wish. I felt him harden inside me as he came. Over the next few minutes, we finished together. I can't quite recall those last few moments. It's almost as if it were a private moment between our bodies, to which memory is not privy. His lips met mine to soften the blow of my body losing his and he pulled out of me.

When I told him it was the best and longest orgasm I had ever had, he laughed a "really?" and kissed my forehead in a way that suggested I had made this claim to others before. If I had, it was true at that time. But those earlier claims were no longer true. As his lips touched my cheek, I realized this couldn't be the last time I felt him and I smiled, as one more word entered my mind ... "More."

Saturday, July 16, 2011


Recently, James sent me a clip of me giving him head. He had shot it a few months back, on the ill-fated night of heavy drinking. The trouble with that evening wasn't the video. If you don't remember that evening, you should read this.  Yeah. Well, one other thing I didn't remember about that night was that James and I had made a mini-sextape of me fellating him. I was surprised when he told me about it and sent the clip over. I wasn't surprised that we made it, I was just surprised that I didn't recall making it. He was shocked that I didn't remember, as well. At any rate, I was happy to find out that there was a small piece of memorabilia from that hilarious, cloudy evening. I was excited to see what he and his iPhone had captured of our lovemaking that evening, but disappointed when I opened the clip and found little more than a soundtrack of his pleasure. The video was dark and shaky, but from the sounds of it, I was killing it. I'm pretty sure James owes me dinner for that one. At the end of the 30 second clip, the camera steadies a bit and the shot lightens. And, there I am, dick in mouth. I caught a 2 second glimpse of the spit glistening on my lips and on him. Then, the image froze and I was left to wonder.

Since getting that video, I have been wanting to video more sex acts. I imagine my reasons are similar to those of most people that want to do it. I want to see myself. I want to see what I look like, I want to look at my partner. I want to hear the sounds we make. Part of it is pure vanity. I am quite positive that this vanity will bite me in the ass when it comes time to watch. Everything that feels so hot and steamy probably looks a bit messy when not engaged in the act. But, nonetheless, I want to see.

Another reason the urge to video the act is so great is that I am currently having sex roughly once or twice a week. This is great. I don't mind this, at all. However, there are 7 days in a week. And, I have been thinking a lot about those 1 or 2 days on the remaining 5 or 6. It would be nice to have something to reference back to when I'm handling up on those lonely nights. The idea of being able to create an ideal scene, in which I am the leading lady, is a little more than exciting to me. For once, I don't have to pretend that the coked-up white chick is me and the tattooed 'pool guy' is my lover. Well, I might keep the tattooed pool guy.  But, alas, I can avoid those dumbass plots. Who wants their sex to have a plot, anyway?

So, I want to make a sex tape. But, I'm not talking about any of this grainy, Paris Hilton, night-vision bullshit. I'm a photographer. So, you better believe I am showing up with camera equipment, lighting equipment and a tripod. It's going to be done right. I'm shooting this one in RAW (pun-intended) and editing it down in FinalCutPro.  Part of me wants to make a series with all of my lovers. But, somehow, I think a spotlight and video release form might kill the mood, occasionally.

Unfortunately, I am not quite sure who would play opposite me. I hadn't thought that far into it. I have videoed so many solo missions I had to buy an extra hard-drive to store all the masturbation. And, that just doesn't really do anything for me. The idea of masturbating to myself masturbating creates a mental wormhole of narcissism that leaves me Serengeti dry. So, I guess until the world rights itself and I find my way to The Stranger, this one will remain an unrequited fantasy. Maybe it's for the best. Who knows, possessing such a video might be the last straw, throwing me into a downward spiral of masturbatory hermitage.  ... Doubtful, but anything is possible.

So, until my porno prince charming comes along, I will just keep streaming my temporary lovers through my slow internet. And, Pornhub will keep my loyal business. Woe is me.

Thursday, July 14, 2011

One Year

A full year has passed since my first post. It was an introduction of characters. And upon looking back, I was surprised to see how many of the 'characters' still remain in my life. So, in honor of the one year anniversary of My Life As A Serial Dater, I have decided to give a recap of the year, with a small look at the future. I'll start with Train Guy. Where else would I start? He was the person and a train was the location where it all started. I'll list person, position, present and future/fantasy. Here goes!

Train Guy: 

  • The Positions - My ass on a counter in a train changing room. He was standing in front of me, on his knees giving me head to start. Then, we had sex with my back pressed against the mirror, hips slid forward to the front of the counter. Afterwards, he picked me up and moved me to the sink because it was oddly high. This is where he went down on me again. He came from Dallas to Houston to visit me once last summer. We had sex all over his hotel room. He picked me up, I rode him and he hit it from behind standing. I really found my orgasm with him. He was great in bed. I still stand behind the fact that he was the best yet. 
  • The Present - He still calls and texts. He says he wants to be with me. He's said that for the entire year. I tell him I'm not in a place to be with anyone. But, I never fully cut it off. Part of me really cares about him. I think it's my vagina. 
  • The Future/Fantasy - I want to see him again. I think I will. Ideally we will have sex for days, until I'm sore. It's best with him on top. He's got all his power in that position and he's very strong. He's in his late 30s, early 40s and he's perfected his movement. We are a good fit, physically. But, I would never be with him. 
  • The Positions - Lewis and I had polite sex. We were always destined to be friends. The sex was fun, but we were never overridden with passion. 
  • The Present - We're good friends. Nothing more. There will never be anything romantic or sexual between us again. 
  • The Future/NO Fantasies - We will be friends forever. Nothing more. He's like a Ken Doll to me, now ... smooth down there. 
  • The Positions - Yes! There weren't many. I gave him head while sitting on his couch, as he stood in front of me. I love giving this man head. Love it. He has the best dick. I don't know what it is. His body is amazing. He's tall and strong. We had sex a few times: missionary, doggie style. But, the head. I love kissing his body and feeling him in the back of my throat. I've said head way too many times. But let it be known. I love having this man in my mouth. 
  • The Present - Lately, it's been hard to get him off my mind. I've been thinking about him a lot. We had a little moment of disagreement (sort of). Then, we didn't speak for a few months. But, he hit me up when I got back to town and I am sure I will see him again soon. 
  • The Future/Fantasy - I texted him last weekend that I needed to see him soon. I do. I want to be on my knees in his bedroom. I want to feel his body. This is one man that I like being intimate with. But it's all false. I can kiss his body and touch him and get lost in the moment with him inside me. And the reality of it is, there is nothing there. Nothing at all. I have no idea what he's thinking and I never will. But I know how he feels ... and I guess that's really all that matters with us. But, I do love the farce that we have created. 
  • The Positions - He had a gigantic penis. I think he might have the biggest penis in the world. And his body was unbelievable. We had sex once. And we had sex all night. We did it every way we could. Honestly, I remember that it was pretty good. But, I don't remember much else. It wasn't great. I had been drinking a little, but not a lot. But, I hit some weed with him, so that night was lost to the goodness of the herb. I do know that weed makes me wet and I definitely get more randy (I hate the word horny)... So, I am sure it was great. But, I don't remember. 
  • The Present - There isn't one. This is one of the few men that I never talk to. Never really talked to him after that night. Not sure why, but I never really cared why. But that dick. Man. HUGE!
  • The Future/Fantasy - The future probably looks a lot like the present. I won't talk to him. If I run into him, I will say hello. If he were to text or call, I might even agree to see him. But, I wouldn't contact him and I don't expect to ever see him again. But that dick, though. Yeah ... Big. I may let his penis (and him) make a cameo in tonight's self-love session fantasy. 
  • The Positi ... You know what .. No. I don't even want to talk about Todd. The sex was weird. The communication was weird. I hate to say it, but if he reads this blog, that's weird too. So, I'll just say it. Todd was too weird for me to wrap my brain around. I liked him, but he made me feel like shit. So, fuck Todd. Next!
  • The Positions - We did all kinds of things. He's probably the second best behind Train Guy. They actually remind me a lot of each other. They are both athletes. Simple men. Sweet and very well built. Strong guys with similar builds. But, the thing that stood out most about The Player was he was great with his hands. Like oddly great with his hands. When he had his fingers inside me, I'm not sure what he was doing, but it was one of the best things I've ever felt. His head was amazing too. And, in my belief, if you aren't using your hands, you are only half-way giving me head. He taught me what good head was. And he taught me that fingering isn't just for high school! Bless him. 
  • The Present & The Future - I can just combine these two. He has a girlfriend now and I congratulated him on that and don't expect to talk to him again. I wish him the best. I would have never wanted to be with him. Pretty sure the last time we had sex he tried to impregnate me. I took the morning after pill. He also might have injured me. But it was all done in the act of sex, so no harm, no foul. That was over 6 months ago. I've had all my STD tests and I'm clean as a whistle. I wish him the best and I hope, for the sake of my body, he stays in his relationship, stays happy and away from me. 
Just click the hyperlink above. He hated that I wrote about him, so I won't write more. But, it was fantastic. Just read what I already wrote. He's amazing. Sorry, sir. I won't write any more. You were great in bed, though... really. Great lay, with all due respect, of course. 

  • The Positions - This guy was so hard to get into the sack. I mean, not really. We started out just chilling in my bed. But, it always seemed like he was saving himself. I mean, we always had sex, but it just took more. He was a tease. That's the word. Or is it? He played hard to get. That's it. This one liked to play hard to get. As far as the sex goes, I liked him. I liked him a lot. It was like making love. I've always had a really good feeling about him. If he didn't live in New England, we'd still see each other occasionally. He's good people. The sex was good, because there was a lot of feeling. 
  • The Present - We tweet each other. He lives far away and I still love him with all my heart. So, I tweet him. That's all 'all my heart' has to give someone that lives across the country. 
  • The Future - I hope he visits me one day, so I can hug him for hours. He's really that sweet y'all. You would all love him. He's great. 
  • The Position - Missionary and with me on my stomach, legs together. We knew exactly how to make each other come. Our sex, was overall the best I have ever had. It was mutual though. I know I said Train Guy was the best, and he was if you take sex and suck out all the passion and emotion. If you are just animals that are pleasing each other, then Train Guy wins. But, If you overload it with emotion and passion, talking and kissing, then no one has ever come close to Marlon. He was the best. We were the best together.
  • There is no present or future with Marlon. Because, as soon as I moved away from New England, that fucker (that said we would always talk) stopped returning my texts. This dude uses the powers of his dick for evil. I hate Marlon because he's like me. That charming magic dick having ... Ugh. From the moment he was inside me, my vagina felt like it was on fire ... in a good way. It's hard to explain. He was brilliant and he had the best dick. It was so thick and wonderful, I actually thought I was in love with him. For the months that I knew Marlon, I thought I was in love with him. I really did. Having him inside me and his lips on mine was one of the greatest things I have ever felt. So, yeah, fuck Marlon. He's like a magic-dick-spell casting witch. I hope he reads this. I might email him the link to make sure. Fucking beautiful, wonderful asshole. I haven't thought about him in months and I wish I had just glossed over him. I hate angry masturbation. 
  • The Positions - We did it on the dresser. He picked me up. We did it doggie style. We did it missionary. We did it with me on my stomach and my legs together. We did it all kinds of ways. It was a lot like having sex with your boyfriend. Well, not your boyfriend. But a boyfriend. We talked a lot and the sex was fine. It was just fine. 
  • The Present - We're friends. Not much to say about it. He was cool. Still is. We're friends. 
  • The Future - We'll fade. We aren't real friends. We are just friends until one of us meets someone else. We text occasionally, but as soon as it fades, neither of us will really care. It was fun tho. He's sweet. 
  • The Positions - Drunk. And awesome. James is a man that I am beyond comfortable with. I got drunk with James. Like really drunk. I've cried to him. I let him video me giving him head. That's love. I can say this with all truth in the world. I love James. I talk to him daily. He's one of my best friends. I don't even know how it happened. I adore this man. That's our present, our past and our future. He is just a great person. The sweetest man on Earth.  He's just a good man. And the sex was great. Always fun and playful, while managing to still be hot. And he has the prettiest penis I have ever seen. It's just really beautiful. It's big and it gets really hard. It's just great. Everything about this man is great. I want to buy a ticket to go see him right now. He's one of the best men I know. Did I say he's great? He is. 
  • The Positions - Well, there haven't been any. Not in real life. He and I have still never had sex. I talk to this man every day. He's perfect for me. He's everything I want in a man. But, he still lives in New England. And I have no plans to move back up there. We Skype, text and talk all the time. It's like a fantasy that will always be there, until it's not. It's the closest I can get to any real emotional commitment and that tells me something. The man I choose to fall for lives over a thousand miles away. And, we'll probably never touch each other. But, I have a weak place in my soul for this man. If he asked me to fly up, marry him and have his kids, I would probably do it. Even though it's an awful idea. We've never had sex, but I have no doubt that it would be great. I don't know what it is. Since I first laid eyes on him, I have called him my dream man. He sent me a text tonight that said "I love you." I don't know if he was joking. He says he wasn't. But, it hit me hard. It made me sad, because I want to love him. I don't know him well enough. But, when he talks about his job, about his friends, about fishing, about anything, he just seems so kind and wonderful. I wish with every part of myself that he was here or I was there. That's the fantasy of it. I can think he is perfect, I guess. It feels more real than that, but when I think about it logically, I guess it's just me loving in a dream, because that's easier than loving in reality. 
I don't know what to tell you guys. My dream man is a farce. My intimacy is made up and I am no closer to a relationship or settling down now than I was a year ago. But, I'm okay with that. That's not what this was about. This was a journey I was taking with myself and it's been fantastic. I am glad you guys came with me. This was so much less lonely than it could have been. And sharing the ins-and-outs (so to speak) of my sexual experiences was all the intimacy I need right now. I love you all. And, most importantly, I love myself. Through all of my mistakes, all of the rejection I have felt over the past year, I have been given the allowance to be human. I am allowed to make those mistakes and own them and keep moving. 

We are all just trying to make it. I say, do more. Enjoy life. Don't just make it through. Embrace it and embrace all the aspects of yourself. For me, this past year has been about embracing a part of myself that I had always been made to feel ashamed about. I used to think that my sexuality made me different and unhealthy, but through sharing my stories, I realize one important thing ... I am just like most of you all, and ... Y'all are some freaks. Embrace it, people. We all love sex. It's just good stuff. So, I raise my glass to another year of exploration, safety, love and acceptance. Thank you all so very much. Happy reading. 

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

The Weekend

This weekend was a mix of all things good. My Friday started the weekend off right. I had an early coffee date. It was simple, good conversation and nothing compared to my Saturday night. Saturday was a mess. No date. I went out with some girlfriends. And, somehow, on a night that was meant to console a heartbroken friend, the 7 of us managed to pull off something just short of the movie The Hangover, that should have been coupled with a soundtrack by T-Pain. Yeah, the evening was fully equipped with stripper AND bartender love. I didn't have any sort of rendezvous, but I still ended the evening with champagne soaked panties. Hold on folks, here's the tale of my weekend.

I'll begin with Friday night. There's not much to tell there. The dating has been kind of slow, because I am kind of digging one guy. But, he and I just started hanging out. While I have made no sort of agreements with anyone, there's a natural feeling inside me that doesn't really want to see anyone else, at the moment. But, I had already made plans to have coffee with this other guy, so I went. We met at 6, because he was on-call that evening and I was planning to spend a night with my best friend. He was smart. He liked challenging me on my views, which I don't mind. There was some innocent flirting. We were at a coffee shop, on a couch, so our arms touched a bit, but there was no overt contact. This was fine with me. The guy was nice enough. I would even consider hanging out with him again. But, there wasn't a strong sexual or flirtatious charge. I flirted, because I am flirtatious in nature, but in the back of my mind, I wanted to be in bed with my current crush. We decided to head out around 8:30ish and I headed over to (my best friend) Lynn's place.

Lynn and I simply did what we normally do. We sat and talked about politics, women's issues, race relations, child's rights and the state of the world until we passed out from shear mental exhaustion. This is how we spend most of our evenings together. When I say I need some time with her, people don't really get a full grasp of what it is I need. I need to talk. I need to talk about things until they can't be talked about anymore. I can't really do that with anyone but her. That's what we normally do. However ... On Saturday, it was a different story.

Saturday morning, we went and got our eyebrows done and bought Lynn a dress for the evening. We went with a super fantastic little red number. The goal of the evening was to cheer up our heartbroken friend. And, our heartbroken friend had asked that we all dress like ladies of the evening. So, we went back to the house and I slipped into a low-cut colorful dress. Then, we painted Lynn's red dress onto her.

We are going to call the heartbroken girl Patty. Patty showed up in a cute purple dress that showed off her cute figure. We were set. We got to the first bar and our other friends started arriving. We looked like the United Nations in heels. Our friends are a diverse group. No matter what a man likes, we have it covered. And, we are all smart women. So, we set out to have a good time. And, being the women we are, we made sure that happened.

There was little talk of the heart break. Patty had decided she didn't want to discuss it, so we didn't. Instead, we got tanked and went to a gay bar to watch male strippers. This is where the story got good. I'll go ahead and say that after this, nothing big happened. A sober friend drove us to a couple more bars and Lynn kissed a bartender and I just danced and talked to friends. That was that. This story is not about me. This is the love story of Patty and The Stripper.

So, apparently not all male strippers at gay bars are gay. Some are straight. So, a friend and I bought Patty a lap dance from the man of her liking. I slipped him the money and pointed her out and he acted funny about it. He acted like he didn't want to dance for her. He asked if it was going to be okay with her and I reassured him that she needed it. So, he made his way over. He danced up on her for a minute or so, then he turned to me and with a pained look, he tugged at his lil draws and mouthed the words "I have to put on more clothes." Oh. Okay. As he turned to leave, his profile revealed a little underwear tent. Apparently he had enjoyed the dance as much as, if not more than, Patty.

When he returned, he had a business card. He came around behind Patty and I and slipped the card into her hand. His name and number were written on the card. He whispered something to her and she whispered something back. And this is how Patty fell in love with a stripper. Later that night, I helped her formulate a text to him. It went something like "You gave me the lap dance earlier tonight. Here's my number." And, it worked. He texted her that night. Then, he texted her again the next day and they texted back and forth and ended up talking on the phone for hours.

Lynn and I were sure that this wouldn't be anything serious, but turns out they are going to have their first date this week. And, you guys will never guess where they are going. I can't make this stuff up guys ... He asked her to go to church with him. So, Patty and The (Straight Gay) Stripper are going to church. Think anything you want. Last week, Patty was pining away over her asshole fiance, but come Wednesday night, she'll be reading scripture with Mr. Washboard-Abs. Life works in funny ways.

Oh yeah, the champagne soaked panties. Well, that wasn't as interesting. Patty spilled a drink on the bar, and the champagne stream flowed perfectly onto my crossed legs and right to the promised land. So, most of the night, I walked around looking perfectly dry, but in actuality, I was champagne wet. The next day, Lynn and I donned our shades to our favorite diner and downed 12 glasses of water. It was a good weekend.

Saturday, July 9, 2011


As I sit here with my best friend, reading sex and dating advice columns, one response keeps ringing loudly in my head ... "BULLSHIT!" What is with this blanket advice? Are we living in a world of Barbie and Ken, still? Do we really believe that some lonely person sitting in front of a computer somewhere far away really knows what ALL men and women are thinking, feeling and going through?

I know what you are thinking ... "Aren't you a lonely person sitting in front of a computer?" Yes. Yes I am. The difference is, I don't claim to know what is best for anyone. Not even me. I am merely sharing my journey of exploration. I don't claim to know the universal ways of dating. Anyone that does is a liar. And they are, most likely, trying to sell you something.

We live in a world of affirmations. Close your eyes long enough and tell yourself something long enough and it will become your truth. I say open your eyes. Look around. Take a good look at it. That's your truth. It's right there in front of you. Your truth is all around you. And the things you are being told will make you happy in the future, by someone that does not even know you ... Those things may very well be a lie for you. Don't follow someone else's truth in hopes that it will make your future look more like it "should."

I can't tell you what you should be doing. If you are single, then I guess you should be single right now. But, you can't will something into existence with your eyes closed. If you have a partner that is cheating, then maybe at this moment in your life, there isn't a right or a wrong. But you won't see any of it with your eyes closed in the fetal position looking for how things "should be." How they should be doesn't really matter. This is how they are. How do you make that look good? How do you enjoy the moment and enjoy your life?

I know we don't want to think about it, but you could die today. Do you really want to spend your life preparing for tomorrow? I don't mean to say that you shouldn't make smart decisions or be prepared for your future. Only that your entire life shouldn't be a struggle of trying to meet societal expectations and your life isn't a means to an end. And the only people that can help you answer questions about yourself are you and the people that actually know you. But, no one can tell you what you should and should not be doing. Or where you should or should not be in life.

We spend our lives preparing for the next step. Preparing for our glorious future. But, what about right now? How do you feel right now? If you feel good, feel it, sing, dance around. If you feel bad, feel that and listen to yourself. But do it with your eyes open. See yourself as you are and love that. But most importantly, don't listen to me or anyone else talk about the way things should be. Just live, love yourself for who you are and enjoy the moment every once in a while. Instead of trying to build a perfect future, realize that you are living in the perfect present.

Wednesday, July 6, 2011

Judgment and Rejection

Dating many men over the past year, I have frequently been faced with a plethora of good and bad qualities. Dating can be about having a good time. It can be about the funny circumstances, both positive and negative. But, it cannot be denied that a good part of dating is about judgment. Whether you are looking for one night of passion or a lifetime with a person, you are sizing them up and judging them.

We often think of judging someone as a very negative thing. But, when dating a person, you look at the details of their being. You look at all of the good and bad qualities and you make a decision on whether you want to spend a night with them, or build a future with them. You are opening yourself up to a person, whether it's just your body or your life, and it's important to make an educated assessment, or pass a judgment.

Having had a large dating pool over the past year, I have been on both ends of this judgment. It's not an easy place to be on either side. Especially, if you are concerned with the feelings of others. So, I have found myself in a constant battle of evaluation, not just of those that I am dating, but, of myself.

Dating, for me, has become equal parts rejecting and being rejected. You would think it would be easy enough. I am honest from the beginning and I openly say that I do not want a relationship. That should be that. But, somewhere along the way, I started realizing that it wasn't as easy as it sounds. I have never been completely shut off to the idea of a relationship. And, I have realized that a lot of men will say they are just looking for something casual or friendship, and then they change their mind. Or, they weren't being truthful in the beginning.

I, myself have developed feelings that I did not foresee. In most cases, I found it best to shift from romance to friendship, as I was in transition and not ready or able to settle into anything long-term. But, there were those cases when I was forced to reject someone, because I did not feel they would ever settle for friendship, or because I did not feel they were a healthy part of my life in any capacity. This is never easy to do.

I used to just stop responding altogether. I rationalized this as the most humane way. Make it quick and painless. Then, I realized, this method was only painless for me. So, I have started giving the person a reason. I never give a person a list of reasons why I feel we aren't a good pairing, just that I don't think we are. I usually just tell them what I am looking for at the moment: a friend, a partner, a good time. And then I tell them that I don't feel we are suited for what I am seeking. No one needs to hear a list of their faults. Occasionally, if the person was disrespectful or lied to me, I will tell them the specific reason. I feel that is my duty to whoever else comes along. Maybe if enough women tell him they don't cut for liars, he will change his ways. If not, I did my part. And I wash my hands of the whole thing.

But, in the end, this is how it all boils down. There is, in fact, someone for everyone. That someone for you is you. You may never find a match. It's a big world and that one person that can stand you might be in Switzerland. So, you have to be okay with whatever may come. I have rejected and been rejected ample times. Never once when I rejected a person did I think, "They are no good for anyone." I only thought, "They aren't good for me." So, when I've met someone I actually liked and then I don't hear from him again, I could start to think, "Damn, no one wants me" ... Oh yes, I have my moments ... But, instead I remember that this was just one person. We are all just individuals. Relationships can't be forced and they can't be waited on to validate one's entire life. Each experience has it's own value. So, when I start to get down over a loss on what seemed to be a good thing, I have to remember that there is a whole big life out there and this is just my dating life.

Monday, July 4, 2011


How have I not addressed the beauty that is mutual head? Have I really not spoken on this yet? Correct me if I'm wrong. I'm not going to go back and check. I have over 210 posts. And the impulse to write about this glorious act is so strong, I need to do it now.

So, I won't say what sparked this post. But, I will say I had a very comfortable experience recently that will not be shared with you knuckleheads. I'm done with empty sex and I am venturing into less-frequent and more meaningful sexual experiences. This is just my own personal journey. I'm not going to be one of those people that gets past a certain phase of life and looks down upon it. My year of sexual exploration was wonderful and is very much still a part of me. But, being with multiple partners simultaneously is not what I am doing these days.

My sexual exploration is still kicking and alive, but I am looking to explore with one person at a time and taking time to reflect in between partners. Some may think it's lame that I am slowing down and others may think that I should have been doing it all along. I say, sit down with your opinions. I do what works for me and I still encourage everyone to get to know what it is that works best for them. This takes exploration. It takes trial and error and it cannot be preached to you. I don't get to explore my sexuality and then tell you what you should do. That's not how this works. I only hope to encourage the knowledge of oneself.

That having been said, 69 is a beautiful thing. It's one of those things I can really only do in a perfectly comfortable situation, because it offers a very intimate and up-close view of my butthole. I was going to try to find a better way to say that, but it is what it is. It's upside down head and instead of looking up and seeing me squeezing my breasts, dude is going to open his eyes to have a bird's-eye-view of my ... well ... bird's eye.

Sorry, you read '69' and clicked the link because you thought it was going to be sexy. It is sexy, but in all things sexy, they start out feeling a little awkward. Part of the sexiness is the fact that you wouldn't do it with everyone. It's not a wave at an intersection, it's dual-oral sex. It's intimate in all ways possible. And it's wonderful.

There's nothing quite like doing it early in the morning. Right when you wake up. You are still all fresh from your morning or evening shower. In my case, I like to lay on my side, or be on top so I have the full range of motion of my neck. And, I always enjoy the ability to hover above or take a seat on the face of my lover.

It's great for a myriad of reasons and like most things sexual, those reasons are hard to articulate. The intimacy and trust are both great things. Being able to clench your lover's thighs. The fact that the moans that come from receiving pleasure, while giving pleasure, actually serve to create more pleasure. I know, it's mind-blowing.

Personally, I have a thing for giving head. I don't placate people. I don't fake orgasms and I don't say I like shit because I think it might please a man. I like giving head. There is a very real feeling of the head of a penis sliding across my tongue and into the back of my throat. The grain of my taste-buds against the soft skin and hard musculature gets me wet every time. So, if I am being stimulated (aka getting head) at the same time, I can reach orgasm at record speeds and the odds are good I will get two in before he reaches his first.

Maybe this is a testament to my head giving abilities vs. theirs, but who cares. This is no contest and if it is, I still win. My pride is never bigger than my want to reach the promised land. You can take that to the bank. I'm not a selfish lover. I will give it my all. But, I am not mad that I can take just as well as I can give and I have yet to meet a man that was mad that he made me come 4 times before he came. It works for everyone.

So, what is my conclusion? Here it is. If I let you gaze upon my butthole, it means I trust you. Pleasure x pleasure = more intense pleasure. And, your penis in the back of my throat means a guaranteed orgasm for me. Who could ask for more? It's like infinite pleasure reciprocity. It's no wonder the sign for infinity and the sign for the dual head (69) are so visually similar. It's the circle of life people, this is the kind of stuff dreams are made of.

Also, is butthole one word or two? Butt hole ... or butthole? The mysteries of life never cease. 

About Me

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I am the product-child of the Women's Lib movement. I have a grade A education, a promising career and no immediate goal for children or a spouse. I will be 30 this year and I have spent many years in monogamous relationships. In and out of 1 to 2 year relationships, I always dated with the goal of meeting someone special. Most of the time I didn't date. Most of the time I found myself falling into relationship after relationship. These relationships were doomed to fail. They were all built on expectations that were, for me, unattainable. I love meeting new people. I find sex enjoyable and empowering and I am not happy when I am monogamous. So, after my last break-up, after taking some time to grieve, I decided to cut my societal puppet strings and get back in the game. I set out on a mission to spend the Summer of 2010 dating as many men as possible. My only initial criteria was attraction. My only limitation was - no love and no structured relationships. This is my date by date tale of what life can be like outside of the goals of relationships and love.