Dreams

Occasionally, and not nearly as often as I would like, I have these very vivid dreams.  They involve a man and most of the time they involve sex. While sometimes it's just a touch, others are downright X rated.  As I said, the dreams are very vivid and when I awaken, I am left feeling every emotion and impulse related to the dream as if it was real.

I generally walk the rest of the day, sometimes the rest of the week with this longing for the man that played the main role in the dream.  Sometimes the feeling only lasts a matter of moments and some have lasted to this day.  I remember when I was young (a child) I had a dream about David Hasselhoff, and to this day, I get uneasy when I see The Hoff.  I don't have any attraction to him and the feelings I get aren't that of attraction, but of a strange familiarity.  One I am not comfortable at all.  Now I have to wipe that feeling out of my mind in order to finish writing this. One moment.

Okay, the first time I had an orgasm, I felt that feeling of familiarity.  I realized that I had had orgasms in my dreams, which had manifest into a real physical orgasm.  I just hadn't remembered it when I awoke, until I actually had one.  If you remember the story of Sean, you might remember that the night before we had sex, I had a dream about him.  That dream took over my thoughts.  I couldn't shake the sexual attraction after that.  It was almost like a spell had been cast, like I was cursed.  I would get warm and wet when I thought about him and I ha to have him.  I had known him and been attracted to him for almost 2 years, but once I had the dream, 24 hours wouldn't pass before I put my lips to his for the first time and fulfilled my desires.  What could be suppressed in the waking life, could not be suppressed once my desire entered my dream state.  What was once an attraction had become a hunger.

Lately, I don't have these dreams as often as I would like.  However, I had one a few nights ago.  It was very simple.  I walked past him as he was sitting and he touched my hand.  It was like a novel was written in that one touch.  If a picture is worth a thousand words, that touch in my dream was worth every word ever spoken.  After 5 years, the dream was about Sean.  He has invaded me again.  I can't help but wonder why it's him in the dreams.  I don't think I am that out of touch with my thoughts and feelings, but I don't remember ever wanting him this much before the dreams started.  He not only plays the lead role in most of my fantasies these days, but he's even been known to text or call while I am masturbating to thoughts of him.  How am I supposed to think about anything else if this keeps happening?  Apparently, not even 1000 miles between us can break this hunger.  I need to see him again.  I am resourceful... Especially when I am determined.  Stay tuned ... Dreams can come true.

Distinction

When I tell people that I am not monogamous, they often think that I am not interested in repeat dating, or seeing the same person more than once.  They think that I somehow manage to evade, escape or deny the emotion that creates a bond between two people.  This is not the case.  Though, I often wish it was.

It's a fine line I walk.  As I have said in the past, I am not into sex for the sake of sex.  It doesn't have to be love, but it does have to be loving.  I think sex devoid of a connection is sex devoid of passion.  It all goes back to being a good lover, putting forth effort and putting yourself into your sex and into your partner, for whatever amount of time you choose to spend with them.  

With some, this can be a one time act.  It can be performed without words, with only looks, smiles and touch.  You can have a sexual connection with someone, feeling their movements and reading their body to discover and fulfill their wants.  This can be a one time act and still be beautiful and fulfilling.

Or, it can be repeated and consist of more.  Sometimes, you meet someone and you have all of the things I mentioned above, while also having a connection on another level.  You can have that amazing sex, while also being able to carry on a great conversation and make each other laugh.

I think it silly to forsake this because you don't want to be monogamous.  Some connections are physical and fleeting, while others are lasting and more substantial.  They can be confused at times, but as long as honesty is the key element, I see no harm in blurring the lines a little.  I also see no point in forsaking a good thing for the sake of variety or out of the pride that comes out of knowing that you are not the only one.  Each connection is different and unique and some need to be explored longer than others.

A Call To Action

Yes.  This is a message to you.  If you want something interesting to read, give me something interesting to write about.  My job is not to entertain men.  It's to offer 50% of a bomb ass sexual experience.  

I go to an all women's college, situated in the lesbian capital of the country.  I don't know if I remembered to tell you that, but it's important to know that my lack of dating has a very good reason behind it.  That being said, this is not the solitude phase.  Just to be clear, I am not okay with this.  Something has to give.  I have been on a few dates and I am still talking to some guys.  But, these days, the bulk of my passion is spent on masturbation and dreams.  We know I love my masturbation.  Masturbation is the only sexual thing I do better than giving head.  If the men were here, I would be dating more and have more interesting stories for you.  I blame the men.  But, I am quickly discovering that location and workload can put a damper on the dating/sex life of even the most driven dater. 

I got a text last night from one of my New England suitors and he wanted to drive out and see me.  The trouble was it was already 10pm when I got out of class and he is an hour away.  The thought of him showing up at 11:30 to be entertained was less than appealing.  I suggested that we plan on hanging out on Wednesday (his next day off).  And he said "possibly." Unacceptable.  If you can't make a plan one and a half days in advance, you don't deserve the ass. 

Another suitor hit me up today saying that I seemed like a different person than the one he had originally met and been captivated by.  The problem there is, he's not been that captivating and I am not in the business of entertaining someone via text and Skype.  I would love to meet up with him and have a great time, but this want has not manifested in anything tangible.  Only texts about possible plans.  Again, I need delivery people.  And I need it at a reasonable hour or on the weekend.  I need sex at night and I need my days free to work and create.  Is this too much to ask?

The truth is, if either of these particular men could get their schedules together and make their way out to me, I would gladly have my way with them.  (Insert big smile at the thought of it.)   As I have said, my libido doesn't get the message that we are not in Houston anymore.  She's still under the impression that the penis is plentiful.  I don't have the heart to break it to her.  There's no penis around.  Hopefully, this weekend will hold more in store than just taking nude pics on my cell phone and sexting with my friend that is working in Georgia. 

But, don't fear people.  I got a full night sleep and things are looking up.  I have a prospect coming out tomorrow night and another possibility for the weekend.  We'll see how it goes.  The unseasonably hot weather and fatigue won't keep me down.   For now, I need less feedback and more action from my text buddies.  I'm not looking for pen-pals, folks.  I'm from Texas, so I have a plethora of great sayings.  One of my favorite is "Don't let your mouth write a check that your ass can't cash."  Right now, I have a text cache full of written checks.  Where's the ass???

Another one of my favorite sayings is "Want in one hand and shit in the other and see which one fills up first."  But I'm not shitting in my hand.

Support The Troops - Part 2

Aside from the smack on the leg, The Soldier and I hadn't had any physical contact.  It had been a night of good clean fun; studying, pinball and conversation.  I didn't necessarily hope to change that.  I haven't been feeling as sexual as I did over the summer.  I happily accept the changes in my mood.  One thing I do note is that it is a change in mood and not a change in libido.  I'll explain.

Right now, I am looking to get to know people more.  I have started getting a little lonely up here and I am not feeling a connection with any of the guys I am talking to, like the connections I felt with guys back home.  I guess Todd was right about that part.  I am homesick.  And, in that homesickness, I want a connection with someone.  I don't need to have monogamy with them, just something more than a warm body.

Maybe it's too soon to tell, but I didn't sense that connection I am looking for with The Soldier.  However, he is a warm body.  And, once we settled in to watch a movie, physical intimacy took over and my longing for a connection was temporarily suppressed by my longing for him.  He was tall and when he put his hand on my hip and pulled me against him, his grip was firm and his embrace warm.

After we had sex, we talked for a long time.  The sex wasn't phenomenal.  It's no reflection on him, there just wasn't that spark.  Perhaps there was too much alcohol.  Perhaps there was too much thinking.  But, I just wasn't in it.   The talking afterward was nice, but after he fell asleep, I found myself sneaking downstairs to talk to call Lewis.  This is a problem.  I had hoped that coming back to school would put a healthy distance between me and Lewis.  Instead, the loneliness has overwhelmed and I find myself relying on Lewis for that connection, while simultaneously growing emotionally distant from him.  I don't feel the way I did when I was there.  I think it's natural that you lose excitement for someone, if you never see them.  I am losing that excitement everyday and it's making for a bad combination.  He's still just him, but I am changing.

Things with The Soldier indicated that change.  I have been doing a lot of thinking.  Maybe I am just tired.  Maybe it's PMS.  Maybe I am tired of dating.  I did hang out with a guy a few days ago and he was promising.  There is opportunity for that connection.  There is opportunity for him to be a friend and  a lover.  After we hung out, I got a little high from spending time with him, and though we didn't have sex, the chemistry and attraction was there.  Of course, afterward, he never called again.    

This isn't an end.  I will still be writing.  Too bad my libido is still raging even though I'm not feeling the dating scene.  Who knows, I might wake up tomorrow with a renewed inspiration.  I still need you guys to listen and give me feedback.  So, with my head in a book and my thoughts on my work, I am moving on, with no idea where I am going from here.

Support The Troops

The past few posts have been very emotional.  It's the kind of mood I was in, I suppose.  But, I feel that I have neglected a great part of my duty here on the blog ... That is, to tell you about my wonderful sex life!  So, here's more of that goodness that you have come to expect from yours truly.

I met a guy here.  Yep.  A southern boy living up here in the sticks of New England.  He actually lives in a big city about 40 minutes from me.  Glad he's willing to make the drive. I have mentioned him once before.  I called him The Soldier and I think for the purpose of this blog, he will retain that name.  It was a simple beginning and a simple date.  We agreed to meet up at my place and study together.  It was a Saturday night and I had some reading to do.  I know it doesn't sound like the most exciting of dates, but I had to catch up after being sick and he had to take a test the next day, so we did what we had to do.

He showed up around 8:00pm with a text book and a bottle of Southern Comfort.  Not really my drink of choice, but hey ... it was free and I am in college.  Age be damned.  I live in a dorm.  I have study dates.  I'm in college.  Anyway, we went over to the campus cafe, grabbed a couple slices of pizza and settled in to study.  We agreed to study for an hour and a half, then he was going to open himself up to an ass kicking on our campus pinball machine.  I have been a little bit addicted to pinball.  So, after our hour and a half of studying, I showed him how to take an ass whooping like a man.  He wasn't expecting it.  I spend a lot of my free time on that machine.  Like I said, this is the sticks and there's not a lot for a girl to do up here.  Might as well come out of college with some baller pinball skills.

After I schooled him on the ways of pinball, we went back to my room and cracked open the bottle of SoCo.  He entertained me with stories of high school thievery and his cunning ways of escaping charges.  He's quite the swindler.  There were funny stories about his family and friends and then there were stories of his time in the military.  Some of those were funny, as well.  He is charming and he has a way with a story.  His stories of his tour in Iraq were a mix of two worlds.  He would go from a smile to a straight face all in the same sentence, then back to smile.  He was in Iraq for a year.

He was warm and gentle.  He has a big smile and a simple charm that made me feel comfortable.  Did I mention that he is from the South?  That might have something to do with it.  He's a sweet guy.  He didn't make any forward moves on me.  At one point, I got up to make us another drink and I made some smart ass comment and he smacked me on the leg.  That was the first physical contact we had.  SPeaking of physical, he was cute.  He is about 6'3" and he has a sincere smile.  He's got a nice amount of tattoos and nice skin.  If you haven't realized by now, I like 'em tall.  Tattoos and a good smile never hurt, either.

Then we had sex and went to sleep.  Psshh.  You know I'm not going to do you like that.  But, I am going to make you wait for it. Until next time....

Privacy

This post is dedicated to Lewis for always being my biggest supporter and for being a true friend, without judgment.  I don't know how he does it, but I am glad he does.  He makes me remember my backbone when I am cowering.  He kicks my ass and tells me I'm brave when I need it.  He showers me with respect and good loving and he shows me what a confident man looks like.  Love to Lewis.

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It has been brought to my attention by more than one man (3 to be exact), that my sharing of "everything" is "too much."  I do note that men have told me this, because I have yet to hear this from a woman.  I have been told by an ex, a current and a friend that I have lost their respect or any ability to be taken seriously as anything more than casual sex or casual dating.  I have accepted what they say and tried not to pay it too much mind.  Every once in a while, in the depths of night, I worry that I might be alone forever.  That in writing this blog and making my sexual experiences known to all, I might be sealing my fate to never deserve the love and respect of that special someone.  It should also be noted that sometimes late at night I worry that the soda I drank earlier in the day will give me cancer.  Late at night, I am quite positive that I am going to fail all of my finals that are months away and I am sure I will never get a job.  This is the time when my mind plays tricks on me.

In the light of day, I remember that the reason I am not in a relationship is because I am not looking for one.  And that even though people tell me that I am fighting the instinct to settle down or that I am fooling myself, I know what I want.  Irrational thoughts have a time and place, so I save mine for the dark of night.  These are private moments.  Privacy.  This is what these men have told me I should be clinging to.  I should be retaining some scrap of privacy and maintaining some dignity.  So, I decided to take some time and put real thought into this argument.  Am I losing something by giving so much of my privacy away?

The conclusion I have come to is; I don't know that privacy really exists.  Think about what would happen if you died today.  Just suddenly.  No warning.  Bam ... Right now ... Dead.  Someone would go through your things.  Maybe your mother or your husband.  Someone would have to throw out your half used bottle of lube.  Someone would sort through your papers, go through your computer files, delete your naked pictures, erase your history, read your journal.  This might happen out of necessity to clean up or it might happen in an effort to get to know you better or to hold on to you once you are gone.

Letters Jefferson and Madison shared are actually referred to as "The Private Letters," yet, they are published and used in every lecture regarding the creation of the Bill of Rights.  They were only private in intent.  They were meant to be private, but eventually, it all comes out in the wash.  People read text messages and emails to find their spouse is cheating.  Kids stumble upon their mother's vibrators.  Parents search their kid's rooms for drugs and condoms.  Journalists and campaign workers work to uncover the 'dirt' on the opposition.

Young women have sex, believing that it is a private moment, only to have sex tapes revealed, pictures passed around school, stories told behind their backs and a whole slew of violations on their trust.  When their secret moments are revealed, they are called sluts and hoes.  They are laughed at and belittled.  And for what, for enjoying sex, for trying something new or even making a mistake?  Well, my sexuality isn't a mistake and it doesn't have to be that private.  I will wear a scarlet letter for some, but for others, this blog is just good clean fun.  I'm not the butt of anyone's joke.  I'm not disrespected and I'm not here to disrespect anyone.  

People have different reasons for keeping things 'private' and people have other reasons for digging that privacy up.  Sometimes it's intentional and sometimes it's accidental, but it can always happen.  I have spent my entire life hiding things and deciding that it wasn't worth it.  We all do it.  I hid smoking pot from my parents when I was a teenager for a bit, but eventually I just let it be known.  It was easier than hiding.  I knew they didn't approve, but hiding it didn't make it any less true.  I hid cigarettes from my sister for a bit, but then I just smoked in front of her and eventually I quit that altogether.  I have never cheated on anyone, because I can't fucking hold water.  I spill everything I do.  It's just me.  My sexuality and my love for sex were just the last thing to go.

I could have waited to be found out.  I could have written it in my journal or kept it in my head.  I could have acted like I don't love sex, but then I would either have to hide it or ignore that part of myself.  I didn't have to come out like this, granted, but why not.  My mama knows I am sexually liberated and she doesn't judge.  She doesn't read the blogs that are sexually explicit, because she doesn't want to know the details.  But she doesn't mind that this is a reality that exists, it just makes her a little sick to think about.  She doesn't judge it, it just grosses her out.  Fair enough.  So, if it makes you sick to hear the details, get smart like my mama and stop reading.  Otherwise, just enjoy it.  It's not a violation of my privacy.  If I want something to be totally private, I will keep it to myself.  But, for the most part, I want to share and I want to be open.  This is a learning experience for me and it's mine to share with the world if I choose.  My body is MY temple and my 'private' parts are mine to do with as I choose.  And, until Blogger says otherwise, I can share all I want. :)

So You Lost Your Virginity, Huh?

The following is a repost from a blog I recently discovered, called Trying to Find Me.  I haven't read anything that hit me like this did in a long time.  I really hope you enjoy it as much as I did.  I teared up while attempting to discreetly read it during a lecture.  Oops.  Check out the blog.  It's well worth it.

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There’s no way to go around it. I’ve been thinking about it a lot (not perverted thoughts about people losing their virginity but how people, particularly people that grew up in similar situations as me, have done it or if they have at all.) So, I’d like to explore the subject.

How did it happen? Was it a conscious decision? Did your conscious kill you after? Were you happy? Did it change your life? Did your parents find out? 

If you haven’t had sex, why not? Religious purposes or are you just terrified of getting pregnant before getting a ring on that finger?

My road to adult activities was a fairly slow and boring one until shit hit the fan.

Middle school consisted of me lusting after three guys; leaving “anonymous” notes in my main crush’s locker; writing in my little diary about those crushes, how “fine” they looked and how badly I wanted to marry Ryder Strong. Terrible. (Next time I go home to my parents’ house that little baby is coming out of retirement for some comedic relief!)

My first kiss was horrible. I was forced into a “relationship” by my acquaintance/friends in 11th grade with a senior that was obese, liked questionable music and was just unappealing in every sense of the word. He would hang around outside my classes and try to hold my hand when walking down the hall when all I wanted to do was run in the other direction. 

Anyway… We were hanging around outside after school with some friends and everyone was paired up. I was sitting as far as I could get from this guy and someone just haaaaad to ask if we had kissed each other yet. We said no. That escalated in everyone pressuring us to do it right then and there. I kept refusing but of course this guy wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to lay his wormy, greasy lips on me in front of witnesses. Somehow, while trying to escape the situation he caught me in a giant bear hug and planted his lips on mine for approximately 5 seconds…it felt like 5 days of torture. I squirmed my way out of his arms and promptly excused myself to do some chores at home. I think I ran. I hate running.

I spent the whole next day avoiding him at all costs, crafting a note that would effectively break his heart enough to hate me and never talk to me again for the rest of the year. I consider that a silver lining to the grey cloud of his affection.

My next encounter was in 12th grade with a friend. He was nice and loved the Smashing Pumpkins, (just like me!) and I felt comfortable with him. I just really needed to kiss someone else so that grease-ball wouldn’t be the only one on record. We made out all the time for maybe three days. Then it was over. I got paranoid about my parents somehow finding out so we just needed to end it. Plus he was kind of sloppy.

Then came RH. I didn’t like him at first. He was some guy that started talking to me online and eventually got on my good side. He wrote me poetry, got me into underground hip-hop and really introduced me to Sonic Youth, Jesus and the Mary Chain, Built to Spill and so on. We talked for months and months online and over the phone (which was risky business since I’d call from my parents’ land-line on a phone card). I ended up genuinely loving him and would write swoony things about him on my livejournal.

The opportunity to meet finally came. It wasn’t long at all and it wasn’t easy to make it happen either. (The full story probably won’t make it here but trust me, state lines were crossed and family double crossed.) But I just knew that he was it and that I was going to marry him (I was 19) so it made it really easy for me to say yes when he asked me if I was ready. You know, ready.

He asked me twenty times if I was sure and that we didn’t have to and all that because he knew he would be my first. I just kept saying yes. We made out all damn day and I didn’t know if I would survive after my parents found out so YES. We did it. It was uh, not exciting, but I didn’t care. I don’t think I ever really got a good look at his penis either so that area of a man’s anatomy was still a mystery to me when it came to seeing things in person. He was the one and I gave my virginity to him. This all sounds very “moronic teenager” but it was super romantic to me when it happened. After all, I was in love!

My parents never found out. Well, they found out about him two months after we broke it off but they never found out that he took my virginity. No, they found out about that a year later with someone else.

Ah yes, someone else. I refuse to say his name because this guy is a genuine regret. I’m not getting into his story because that would be long and sordid and a waste of time but I will say these few things about the situation. I was living at my university dorms for the semester, he stayed with me for a few weeks and I skipped most of my classes because of him effectively failing nearly every class.

Anyway, my parents found out I wasn’t a virgin any more! Good God Allmighty, I do not wish that experience on anyone.

I was called out of the room I was in, told to sit down and then they barraged me with questions and accusations like:

“Did he take your virginity?”

“Did you let him undress you?”

“Did he sleep in the same bed as you?”

“How long was this going on for?”

“Do you know how heart broken your mother is?” (She was standing right in front of me with tears on her face, yeah, I had an idea.)

“I’m going to call him right now and tell him to marry you, nobody will want you, do you love him? Then you should marry him and never come back here again.”

Things like that. Then I was dragged up to my room, my mom whipped out her Quran and made me swear on it that I would never have sex again until I was married and then I had to take a bath where I was to recite a special du’a with her standing outside and listening to make sure i said it! Apparently it’s some du’a that you’re supposed to say after you lose your virginity? I don’t know. Most of those months were blocked out of my memory.

I was called a slut and many other things. It was hell living at home. They withdrew me from the school I was going to and made me take classes at the community college down the street from where we lived. Things were bad for a very, very long time. Nothing like those Hollywood movies with supportive parents telling you to stick your crotch into freshly baked pies.

Normally I think an experience like that would just permanently fuck someone up for life but I kept going. I was a love sick girl with overbearing parents that would go ape shit at the mention of a boy after that day. I just had really bad luck. Being muslim with a nosy Paki/Indian community didn’t help.

I also think that whole experience made me say fuck what my religion says, it’s not healthy to not know anything about your body and what it likes and have your parents berate you for it. I am responsible when it comes to sex, never unprotected and always sober. Yes, I am terrified of getting pregnant, but I’m also not into repressing something that I know I like. It’s healthy and a fun activity even when you’re in a relationship that spans years.

My experience also makes me wonder how others have gone about it. If they’re muslim, do their parents know? If they do, what was their initial reaction? How has the relationship changed between parent and child? Do they even know about their kids’ relationships? It intrigues me. I don’t want to know about specific sexual encounters, but I do want to know how everyone else deals with this subject because my experience was sufficiently terrifying.