Today, after hanging out with two friends, one confessed she had a crush on the other. So, I was talking with said friend about said crush she has on our mutual (female) friend. (I didn't want there to be any pronoun confusion.) As we were talking, as I was listening to her angst-ridden voice talk about all the inferences she makes. As she ran through all the ways she could see that our other friend didn't like her. "She definitely doesn't like me. But maybe she does. Do you feel the sexual tension?" As she ran through all the different looks they had given each other, (all the underlying meanings), I wondered if I had just been in the same room with them? Had I just been in the same conversation she was in? It didn't feel awkward to me at all. I didn't feel any sexual tension. Am I just oblivious to the romantic nuances between others? Doubt it. The mind makes things up when we have a crush. We read way too much into things and we lose sight of reality. Crushes are interesting all around.
Not only do we make things up in our minds, but there has to be a perfect formula of like, and/or oblivion in order for a crush to exist. If both parties have crushes (and are aware), then it's not a crush for long. In this situation, a crush quickly goes from a crush to something else, like a relationship or bad sex.
Wednesday, January 26, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
All Of My Boyfriends
There's a new guy. Not just any guy. He's not my boyfriend. But, he is giving off all the early warning signs. We all know that when I started this blog, I was in no place to even entertain the idea of a boyfriend. I was open, honest and out for nothing more than a good time and new friends.
I have gone on dates with somewhere around 30 men since the beginning of summer and the start of this blog. Some of the dates have ended in new friendships, some have ended in sex and others have just ended. I have walked away from dates, never looking back or speaking to the guy again. And, I have walked away from dates to return to the scene of the crime over and over ... Either as friends, lovers, or just daters.
Train Guy was meant to be a one time fling. But, recently he told me he loved me and we have stopped talking. I don't believe he ever loved me, nor did I lead him to believe that love was even a possibility. Lewis has become one of my best, most trusted friends. I thought I loved him for a while, but now, I know I was moving too quickly and I was mistaken. One thing I know about myself is that I can jump the gun and move too quickly. The Beautiful One has been purged and resurfaced, but is now gone for good. Todd only lasted a few dates. The Player and I recently talked about making babies together. Not in a romantic way. I was having some I'll never have babies thoughts. And he was just putting my mind at ease. He's an interesting type of friend. We are not having babies together. I talked to The Soldier again a few times after our date, but nothing ever came of it. The Powerful One was scared away by the blog itself. I wasn't too sad about this. Nothing would have ever come of that.
The Repeat Offender and I talk occasionally and we play with the idea of seeing each other again, but that was just another case of me jumping the gun. We got physical quickly and we created a false intimacy. There were times when I had no problem drawing the line between sex and love. Like I have said, I think sex involves some level of emotion regardless of where that emotion lands. Sometimes it falls on the partner you are with currently, sometimes it creates an internal conversation. I had a one night stand once and the whole time we were together, the man talked about his ex. He even showed me pictures of her and a video of them on vacation. (For better or worse, people find it really easy to talk to me.) The point is, the emotion that our sex stirred in him was emotion for someone else. Sex can lead you astray if you don't have a clear understanding of what you want.
Then there is Marlon. He was different. There was a definite connection. Sex with emotion. I fell for him and I didn't even try to keep it a secret. But, I never thought I would be with him. We had covered that ahead of time. There would be no relationship. It's not what either of us wanted from each other. We still talk and we might see each other again, but we will never be more than what we are right now. I think he's amazing, but I don't want to BE with him and he doesn't want to BE with me. We are fine with things the way they are.
A few nights before I left Houston this last time, I found myself bored and I scanned my cell phone contacts for someone to preoccupy my time. There were guys that I knew just wanted sex. There were guys with which I had past experiences. A few days before, I had gotten a flat tire and realized that of all the men I was dating/seeing, I had no one I could call for help. No one that I would call for help if I could. And on this night, I realized that I didn't even have anyone I would call for a good time. I had reached a wall. Maybe I had used them all up or maybe they had used me. I have no hard feelings for anyone I have dated in the past months. But, I don't want to date them. So, I returned to my online profile for what felt like one last time. I sent three messages. One of the guys stood out. They all messaged back within the hour. Over the next 3 days, I went on 3 dates. But, they were all with the one that stood out. There was no sex. There was no kissing. There was a lot of laughing and since I have come back to New England, there have been endless hours on the phone. I haven't been out with anyone else, but I'm not going to jump the gun on this one. I will be away for the next 4 months, so all we have is time. As always, I'll keep you guys informed.
I have gone on dates with somewhere around 30 men since the beginning of summer and the start of this blog. Some of the dates have ended in new friendships, some have ended in sex and others have just ended. I have walked away from dates, never looking back or speaking to the guy again. And, I have walked away from dates to return to the scene of the crime over and over ... Either as friends, lovers, or just daters.
Train Guy was meant to be a one time fling. But, recently he told me he loved me and we have stopped talking. I don't believe he ever loved me, nor did I lead him to believe that love was even a possibility. Lewis has become one of my best, most trusted friends. I thought I loved him for a while, but now, I know I was moving too quickly and I was mistaken. One thing I know about myself is that I can jump the gun and move too quickly. The Beautiful One has been purged and resurfaced, but is now gone for good. Todd only lasted a few dates. The Player and I recently talked about making babies together. Not in a romantic way. I was having some I'll never have babies thoughts. And he was just putting my mind at ease. He's an interesting type of friend. We are not having babies together. I talked to The Soldier again a few times after our date, but nothing ever came of it. The Powerful One was scared away by the blog itself. I wasn't too sad about this. Nothing would have ever come of that.
The Repeat Offender and I talk occasionally and we play with the idea of seeing each other again, but that was just another case of me jumping the gun. We got physical quickly and we created a false intimacy. There were times when I had no problem drawing the line between sex and love. Like I have said, I think sex involves some level of emotion regardless of where that emotion lands. Sometimes it falls on the partner you are with currently, sometimes it creates an internal conversation. I had a one night stand once and the whole time we were together, the man talked about his ex. He even showed me pictures of her and a video of them on vacation. (For better or worse, people find it really easy to talk to me.) The point is, the emotion that our sex stirred in him was emotion for someone else. Sex can lead you astray if you don't have a clear understanding of what you want.
Then there is Marlon. He was different. There was a definite connection. Sex with emotion. I fell for him and I didn't even try to keep it a secret. But, I never thought I would be with him. We had covered that ahead of time. There would be no relationship. It's not what either of us wanted from each other. We still talk and we might see each other again, but we will never be more than what we are right now. I think he's amazing, but I don't want to BE with him and he doesn't want to BE with me. We are fine with things the way they are.
A few nights before I left Houston this last time, I found myself bored and I scanned my cell phone contacts for someone to preoccupy my time. There were guys that I knew just wanted sex. There were guys with which I had past experiences. A few days before, I had gotten a flat tire and realized that of all the men I was dating/seeing, I had no one I could call for help. No one that I would call for help if I could. And on this night, I realized that I didn't even have anyone I would call for a good time. I had reached a wall. Maybe I had used them all up or maybe they had used me. I have no hard feelings for anyone I have dated in the past months. But, I don't want to date them. So, I returned to my online profile for what felt like one last time. I sent three messages. One of the guys stood out. They all messaged back within the hour. Over the next 3 days, I went on 3 dates. But, they were all with the one that stood out. There was no sex. There was no kissing. There was a lot of laughing and since I have come back to New England, there have been endless hours on the phone. I haven't been out with anyone else, but I'm not going to jump the gun on this one. I will be away for the next 4 months, so all we have is time. As always, I'll keep you guys informed.
Saturday, January 22, 2011
Hindsight's 20/20
Over the past three years, a lot has changed. I've lived a dual life, traveling back and forth between Houston and New England. I've seen the end of a 5 year relationship. I've mourned that relationship. I've had one night stands. I've had trysts on trains. I've made resolutions and stuck with them. I've made mistakes and I have atoned, only to turn around and make the same mistakes again. I've learned lessons and ignored them. But, I eventually get the hint and I generally end up the better for it all. Recently, a friend asked me "If you could go back, what would you tell 20 year old you?" The truth is, if I could go back, I probably wouldn't tell her/me anything.
I might hip her up to that warrant in Austin. The one she didn't know about/remember. The one that got her a lovely two day stay in a Travis County jail. That would have been good to know. I might tell her to get her driver's renewed before it expired. Tell her not to laminate her social security card. Or tell her that when she was 30, her mother would win 5 of the 6 numbers on the lottery, coincidentally enough, the sixth number was 6. I might tell her she to keep being safe and stop worrying, until at least 30, because she doesn't get pregnant or get any STDs. Or I might tell her to go to always look both ways when crossing intersections. (She would get hit by a car at 24 and then again at 26. I never claimed she was the sharpest tack in the drawer.)
What I couldn't tell her is not to slap him when she found out he'd been cheating for 3 of their 5 years. I couldn't tell her not to worry so much, that her GPA would be fine. I couldn't tell her not to sit in the front lawn and cry or to try to keep it together when everything was all changed in an instant. I couldn't tell her that sex isn't love. I couldn't explain to her that moving in with him to try to make it work was a horrible idea. I couldn't have told her that even though it never goes away completely, the pain of losing a sibling does diminish over time. I couldn't tell her that drunk sex is almost always a bad idea. She/I wouldn't have listened. And even if I did, I wouldn't have really understood. Because, all of these things are learned in a different way. In order to get the lessons here, the challenges had to be walked. Their is emotion that has to be felt and a memory stored deep in the tissues. I had to feel these lessons. They couldn't merely be retold by a third party. The rewards and payoffs were to big for that. These lessons had to be earned.
I know this to be true for myself, so I suppose it to be true for others as well. When my best friend, sister or mother does something that I find to be seemingly foolish, I know that it's not. I know that while it might be a lesson I understand, it is one that she needs to walk through. And the fact of the matter is, I don't understand it. Because she has a history and experiences that are different from the ones I have. Her life is hers to walk through and my life is mine. Our jobs for each other is to be there to listen, cry, hug and support along the way. I can offer advice and help them reason, but I can't point out a solid solution or say This is what you should be doing.
This is easier with friends than it is with lovers, because we look at them as partners and we invest the future in partners. We see their actions as an indication of what our future will be like. We lose a level of autonomy when we enter into this "partnership." Lines become blurred and the idea of sitting back and letting them make their mistakes and walk through their lessons becomes a possibility for burden on us.
In past relationships, I felt that pressure. I've lived with men and worked hard to be in a partnership, but all I could do was think about myself as a member of this "pair." At nineteen, it was intense. I felt like I gave up parts of me to be with someone. In a small way, I felt that way up until the end of my last relationship. As I grew older I felt less and less lost in the pairings. But, I could never really figure out how to be me (100%) while in a relationship. So, I am walking through the process. It is a lesson and a characteristic that I hope to one day possess. I want to be able to love someone and be with someone, but it wasn't something I could rush. And it wasn't advice I could take. This can't be learned that way. So, if I could go back and talk to 20 year old me, I would probably just listen to what she had to say. The advice and lessons from the past me are far greater than ones the present or future me could offer.
I might hip her up to that warrant in Austin. The one she didn't know about/remember. The one that got her a lovely two day stay in a Travis County jail. That would have been good to know. I might tell her to get her driver's renewed before it expired. Tell her not to laminate her social security card. Or tell her that when she was 30, her mother would win 5 of the 6 numbers on the lottery, coincidentally enough, the sixth number was 6. I might tell her she to keep being safe and stop worrying, until at least 30, because she doesn't get pregnant or get any STDs. Or I might tell her to go to always look both ways when crossing intersections. (She would get hit by a car at 24 and then again at 26. I never claimed she was the sharpest tack in the drawer.)
What I couldn't tell her is not to slap him when she found out he'd been cheating for 3 of their 5 years. I couldn't tell her not to worry so much, that her GPA would be fine. I couldn't tell her not to sit in the front lawn and cry or to try to keep it together when everything was all changed in an instant. I couldn't tell her that sex isn't love. I couldn't explain to her that moving in with him to try to make it work was a horrible idea. I couldn't have told her that even though it never goes away completely, the pain of losing a sibling does diminish over time. I couldn't tell her that drunk sex is almost always a bad idea. She/I wouldn't have listened. And even if I did, I wouldn't have really understood. Because, all of these things are learned in a different way. In order to get the lessons here, the challenges had to be walked. Their is emotion that has to be felt and a memory stored deep in the tissues. I had to feel these lessons. They couldn't merely be retold by a third party. The rewards and payoffs were to big for that. These lessons had to be earned.
I know this to be true for myself, so I suppose it to be true for others as well. When my best friend, sister or mother does something that I find to be seemingly foolish, I know that it's not. I know that while it might be a lesson I understand, it is one that she needs to walk through. And the fact of the matter is, I don't understand it. Because she has a history and experiences that are different from the ones I have. Her life is hers to walk through and my life is mine. Our jobs for each other is to be there to listen, cry, hug and support along the way. I can offer advice and help them reason, but I can't point out a solid solution or say This is what you should be doing.
This is easier with friends than it is with lovers, because we look at them as partners and we invest the future in partners. We see their actions as an indication of what our future will be like. We lose a level of autonomy when we enter into this "partnership." Lines become blurred and the idea of sitting back and letting them make their mistakes and walk through their lessons becomes a possibility for burden on us.
In past relationships, I felt that pressure. I've lived with men and worked hard to be in a partnership, but all I could do was think about myself as a member of this "pair." At nineteen, it was intense. I felt like I gave up parts of me to be with someone. In a small way, I felt that way up until the end of my last relationship. As I grew older I felt less and less lost in the pairings. But, I could never really figure out how to be me (100%) while in a relationship. So, I am walking through the process. It is a lesson and a characteristic that I hope to one day possess. I want to be able to love someone and be with someone, but it wasn't something I could rush. And it wasn't advice I could take. This can't be learned that way. So, if I could go back and talk to 20 year old me, I would probably just listen to what she had to say. The advice and lessons from the past me are far greater than ones the present or future me could offer.
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
What Was That?
Head should not hurt. It should never hurt. I hear people joke about really bad head and I think, These hefas just want something to complain about. Head can't ever be THAT bad. I stand corrected and I owe all those hefas a huge apology. I recently had a run-in with a man that could not give head. It wasn't even that I was just bored or that he couldn't get me off, but he actually hurt me.
He didn't bite me. It wasn't anything that blatant. (I still don't believe that there are men or women out there that bite the genitals of their partner in hopes to get them off, but I keep hearing about it.) This pain was sneakier than that. Dude didn't just chomp down on my lady parts. He was sly with it. He kind of just eased the pain in on me.
There he was, fumbling around with his hands. I was not even sure what he was doing to my vagina, but I gave him a minute. Maybe he was going to surprise me with some technique I wasn't ready for. Maybe he was just going to pull some magic out of his bag for me. So, I waited patiently, with high hopes. What I got, was not what I had exercised all that patience for. His hands were like puppies fighting over a bone. I wanted to say Just stop!
Just as I was ready to put a stop to the whole ordeal, I felt him moving down. Okay. Here we go. Surely his mouth would have better clitoral GPS than his hands had. So, I got a new glimmer of hope. I perked up a bit and got ready for some improvement. It started off odd. He was clumsy. His hands were working down there too, but he wasn't using them to penetrate me. I wasn't really sure what the hands were still doing down there, and I was starting to get a little pissed off. When the mouth goes to the vagina, the fingers should either enter the vagina, or vacate the premises, immediately. They should not continue their battle with the tongue joining in.
So, after about two minutes of this nonsense, I was irritated. Then it happened. It came on slow and fast all at once. It was like he had hooked a vacuum up to my vagina and he was trying to suck my soul through my clitoris. Don't get me wrong, I like a little soft sucking. It's good. It's great. This was neither soft, good or great. It was awful.
I pulled all of my composure and patience together and I gently pulled his head off of me as my body quickly jerked away. Sweetie, it's just not going to happen. As awful as it was, I couldn't be mean to the guy giving me "head." That would just make me a huge asshole. But, for a split second, I wanted to punch him in the top of his head just as a defense.
Afterward, my vagina didn't feel quite right for a little while. But it's been a couple of weeks and its better now. I have had talks with my clitoris and I have promised her that I won't ever let that happen to her again. She understands, but I will say ... If I was ol' dude, I wouldn't want to run into my vagina in a dark ally. Revenge would be swift and sweet.
He didn't bite me. It wasn't anything that blatant. (I still don't believe that there are men or women out there that bite the genitals of their partner in hopes to get them off, but I keep hearing about it.) This pain was sneakier than that. Dude didn't just chomp down on my lady parts. He was sly with it. He kind of just eased the pain in on me.
There he was, fumbling around with his hands. I was not even sure what he was doing to my vagina, but I gave him a minute. Maybe he was going to surprise me with some technique I wasn't ready for. Maybe he was just going to pull some magic out of his bag for me. So, I waited patiently, with high hopes. What I got, was not what I had exercised all that patience for. His hands were like puppies fighting over a bone. I wanted to say Just stop!
Just as I was ready to put a stop to the whole ordeal, I felt him moving down. Okay. Here we go. Surely his mouth would have better clitoral GPS than his hands had. So, I got a new glimmer of hope. I perked up a bit and got ready for some improvement. It started off odd. He was clumsy. His hands were working down there too, but he wasn't using them to penetrate me. I wasn't really sure what the hands were still doing down there, and I was starting to get a little pissed off. When the mouth goes to the vagina, the fingers should either enter the vagina, or vacate the premises, immediately. They should not continue their battle with the tongue joining in.
So, after about two minutes of this nonsense, I was irritated. Then it happened. It came on slow and fast all at once. It was like he had hooked a vacuum up to my vagina and he was trying to suck my soul through my clitoris. Don't get me wrong, I like a little soft sucking. It's good. It's great. This was neither soft, good or great. It was awful.
I pulled all of my composure and patience together and I gently pulled his head off of me as my body quickly jerked away. Sweetie, it's just not going to happen. As awful as it was, I couldn't be mean to the guy giving me "head." That would just make me a huge asshole. But, for a split second, I wanted to punch him in the top of his head just as a defense.
Afterward, my vagina didn't feel quite right for a little while. But it's been a couple of weeks and its better now. I have had talks with my clitoris and I have promised her that I won't ever let that happen to her again. She understands, but I will say ... If I was ol' dude, I wouldn't want to run into my vagina in a dark ally. Revenge would be swift and sweet.
Casual Sex
Turns out, I am not a serial dater. I know. Upon realizing, I was just as surprised as you are now. The fact of the matter is, I chose the name and just ran with it. I mean, it is what I am doing. But, I am really just on a mission to find out all I can about me. Serial dating will not be a permanent lifestyle. It's not who or what I am. I didn't start dating again to try to reach a certain number. I didn't start it trying to bed as many men as possible. I just wanted to get to know myself. I wanted to get to know my likes and dislikes.
Originally, I saw this as a challenge to see what I enjoyed from different partners and to explore my sexuality that way. I think knowing yourself sexually is important. Knowing your likes and dislikes will help you to know yourself fully. The thing is, getting to know myself sexually didn't come with a laundry list of sex partners. It came with putting real thought into what I was doing and how I felt about it.
Some sex is deeper than other sex, but there is no "casual" sex for me. Regardless of how I feel about the other person, there is always an emotional process involved. I always feel different after sex with different people. Sometimes, I regret it. Sometimes, I enjoy it, but I don't particularly want to be with that person again. Sometimes, I love it and I want to be with the person again, but I don't get what I want. Some things vary. But, one thing that remains constant is me.
In the days following sex, I am always in a different place. I have to reflect. I have to think and acknowledge how I feel. Sex can't just be empty. It does something to me. Some sexual experiences are more profound than others, but they all have some sort of impact.
If I have sex with someone while I am drunk, I usually regret it. It's just the way it is. It was still totally my decision to do so, but the fact of the matter is, and this is going to be shocking ... I make bad decisions when I am drunk. And I think they are genius. So, I try to do 2 things. I try to refrain from getting too drunk and I try not to have sex when drunk. Because, unless I am aware that I want to have sex with a person before I get drunk, it usually winds up being someone with which I would not have otherwise shared the time.
If a sexual experience is really good, I usually have to take a day or two to sort out my real feelings. I have said a thousand times before, I get confused after sex. If it's really good, I think I am in love. Not really, but if I am not careful, or I don't take some time to simmer down and think it through, my emotions get a little tangled.
So, I think that I have come to realize that every sexual experience with a new partner is different. It's only when you start having steady partners that you get to relax a bit and just go with it. While having multiple partners can be great for sexual exploration and a better understanding of how I personally deal with sex, I think it is important to remember that sex (for me) can never be casual. I don't have to be in love, but it's an important act, nonetheless, and it can have an impact. For me, it almost always does.
Originally, I saw this as a challenge to see what I enjoyed from different partners and to explore my sexuality that way. I think knowing yourself sexually is important. Knowing your likes and dislikes will help you to know yourself fully. The thing is, getting to know myself sexually didn't come with a laundry list of sex partners. It came with putting real thought into what I was doing and how I felt about it.
Some sex is deeper than other sex, but there is no "casual" sex for me. Regardless of how I feel about the other person, there is always an emotional process involved. I always feel different after sex with different people. Sometimes, I regret it. Sometimes, I enjoy it, but I don't particularly want to be with that person again. Sometimes, I love it and I want to be with the person again, but I don't get what I want. Some things vary. But, one thing that remains constant is me.
In the days following sex, I am always in a different place. I have to reflect. I have to think and acknowledge how I feel. Sex can't just be empty. It does something to me. Some sexual experiences are more profound than others, but they all have some sort of impact.
If I have sex with someone while I am drunk, I usually regret it. It's just the way it is. It was still totally my decision to do so, but the fact of the matter is, and this is going to be shocking ... I make bad decisions when I am drunk. And I think they are genius. So, I try to do 2 things. I try to refrain from getting too drunk and I try not to have sex when drunk. Because, unless I am aware that I want to have sex with a person before I get drunk, it usually winds up being someone with which I would not have otherwise shared the time.
If a sexual experience is really good, I usually have to take a day or two to sort out my real feelings. I have said a thousand times before, I get confused after sex. If it's really good, I think I am in love. Not really, but if I am not careful, or I don't take some time to simmer down and think it through, my emotions get a little tangled.
So, I think that I have come to realize that every sexual experience with a new partner is different. It's only when you start having steady partners that you get to relax a bit and just go with it. While having multiple partners can be great for sexual exploration and a better understanding of how I personally deal with sex, I think it is important to remember that sex (for me) can never be casual. I don't have to be in love, but it's an important act, nonetheless, and it can have an impact. For me, it almost always does.
Friday, January 14, 2011
A Response From The Stranger
This morning, I awoke to this in my email. Looks like I might get my fantasy, plus a little more. This is a direct copy and paste.
________________________________________________
"Wake up, Wake up! How can you sleep at a time like this?" was all I could think as I laid quietly on the right side of the bed. I love it when the sun rises early, and gets me to wake up just slightly before the surrounding world. I enjoy waking up, walking to the window, and observing the nothingness that comes with false dawn. If it was spring, I'd already be standing in the ocean, rocking gently with the waves as I dream of chasing that trophy fish. But it's not, it's winter. It's cold outside and fishing is not an option. A morning walk in the park is not an option. Hell, standing on the porch and freezing my ass off while I wait for the sun to wake fully? Definitely not an option. So what do I do?
I turn and climb back into bed, why not try to get some rest. I rest my head on the pillow as I try to convince my body to relax, I even repeat it aloud, "sleep, sleep, sleep." It doesn't help and now my mind is as alert as my body. I look around the room and there's not much there. The lamp on the desk, the latest book I've been reading, the bowls of dog food and water, the clothes on the floor that I stripped myself of before climbing into bed the first time - in reality, it's just a towel, but it's a big towel so it looks like clothes, it's early still - and then there's........you....
The debate begins. Should I wake you? How will you respond? How'd this go for me last time? What are your plans for the day? Will you get back to sleep? Am I worth waking you before you need to be awake? I sit quietly in thought and let my mind race, accompanied by a long, deep sigh, and it hit's me, "you can't win if you don't play"...I'm on to phase 2, the how...
I haven't done this in a while so I'm short of ideas. Who doesn't like the back of their neck kissed? Or the area behind your ear lobe where your ear touches your neck? Or a gentle bite on their collar bone? That's too easy tho, I know I'll wake you with one of them, but I don't want to. I need to get creative, something new, something that will wake you but not too much. You're stretched out beautifully, beneath a blanket, legs bent up as though you were posing for Playboy, arms wrapped around your smaller pillow because I'm just too big and you enjoy being wrapped tight in my arms each night. I remove the blanket from your body and rest it towards the end of the bed. I lay next to you. The room is cold but you can sense my warmth as you slowly move towards me, pressing your chest against my back and tucking your ass into my crotch. A cute, gentle squiggle and your back to sleep, this time with my breaths rushing down your neck, laying on one of my arms. I lift you up as I reach for the sheet, it's now cold and it bothers you just enough to make you moan quietly in disapproval, but you press against me again, this time even harder and I wrap both arms around you and give you a squeeze.
Your back to the window, I run my hand down your left thigh, and cup your left breast with my other. I pull you closer and take a deep breath of you, your hair and skin smells amazing and arouses me even further, now that dick that's been resting between your thighs is growing, slowly splitting your thighs and moving naturally up towards your pussy. I want you to be wet, and I'm not using anything artificial. I want you moaning, and dripping before I slide my hard dick in your tight wet pussy. I continue to run my hands along your thighs and squeezing your breasts, tickling your nipples, and running my hands down your stomach, avoiding your pussy at all costs. Your eyes are still closed and your mouth is still quiet, nothing from the back of your throat has cum out yet. I grow more excited. You know I'm here, yet you're not responding. I move back and forward just a bit, to rub my dick on the insides of both of your thighs and already, your butter soft skin has convinced the my dick to release just a tiny drop of precum. I feel it as I continue to move back and forth, the amount increasing dramatically. If I keep going, I won't need sex because the cum will be all over your thighs, but that's not what I want, is it?
You stir. You're awake. You haven't turned, you haven't made a noise, but you're awake. Now the real fun can begin. You switch the position of your legs. Your once straight right leg is now bending upward, and our bent left thigh is not straightening. I know you feel me and I know you feel the clue I've left on your thighs. I know you feel my hand on your breast and I go crazy when you take your left foot and slide it behind you, up against my leg and down to my ankle. Your pretty feet push me over the edge, I have to know how long you've been awake, I have to be inside of you, I have to, have to, have to....you reach down between your thighs and run your nails across my head gently, it almost spits as you continue to brush your nails back and forth. You rub my fluids back on me, a wonderful lubrication and you place all five fingernails at the base of the head, moving up slowly to the tip and back down the shaft. My body tenses as I pull you even closer.......
I open my eyes, it's still dark out...what happened to my sunrise? What happened to my blanket? Where did you go? I reach down and my body remembers you being here, the precum is still oozing. The sheets don't show you've slept here, I don't think you left in the night. Then I release the pillow. I roll over onto my back, I trace the hair on my chest and stomach down to my dick. One slow, long, firm stroke and i want more, but why waste it? I'll see you shortly, just say the word......
I hope you enjoy your day :) And maybe if I'm lucky, I'll even hear from you.
The Stranger
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Sexting
Sex is something that used to happen in person. A man and a woman, a woman and a woman, a man and a man or a group of folks used to have to be face to face or face to ??? in order to have sex. Then, technology started to see advances. It started quickly. I am sure of it. Only days after the first cave drawing, some guy was asking his gal to hold still so he could etch her form into the wall of their one-bedroom cave. That way he could look at her and rub one out while she was out with her girls cleaning fish or an elk or something. (I don't know this to be fact, but I am almost willing to bet an ovary on it.)
Since the beginning of literature, there have been forms of erotica. We might read it today and think "What tha?" But, at the time, it was provocative and steamy. And, since the beginning of the photograph, people have been taking pics of genitalia. Google it and get ready to see the fullest bushes you have ever seen. It's great for "us," because it's a look at the history of erotica and porn. It was great for "them," because it was something to look at while they spanked it.
Soon, there would be moving pictures and not long after, there was silent pornography. Since, we have seen pornographic magazines, mass-print erotica and millions of millions of pornographic "films." And that was just up to the early 90's.
The past 15 years have brought about a plethora of new ways to see and experience sex without being in the presence of another person. A combination of the internet and cell phones have brought us endless ways of sharing ourselves with others. Now, we can log on and watch strangers have sex or masturbate. For the right price, we can even direct the porn we are watching, typing instructions from the comfort of our own beds and watching the story unfold somewhere on the other end. I can snap a picture of my breasts and have it on the internet in 2 minutes. I can snap a picture of my vagina and have it sent to a man in one minute.
And, I have. I am guilty of sexting. I have sent nude photos and videos of myself out to men. I don't know many women and men that don't do it. (Though I know there are women and men that would NEVER. There is no need to send an email or write a comment. I know you nonsexters are out there.) I keep my face out of the pics for the most part, but I have tattoos and birthmarks that clearly show it's me. For a select few special men, I have sent a full nude with face included. But, for the most part, I leave men to play the role of a mental Frankenstein, working to piece it all together.
I am both a photographer and a writer, so my sexting doesn't end with the sending of nude pictures and videos via text and email. I have shared stories of fantasies with the readers of this blog and I have traded erotica with men via email. The exchange of words is a huge turn on to me. I don't do it often. I have had the rare experience of sending some pretty intense messages via Twitter DM. (This only happened once and it was a big surprise.) And, I have had one man write an erotic response to a post I wrote about him. I actually got that email tonight and it was a great surprise. I am sort of feeling this guy something extra.
In the end, sending naked pictures and videos of myself around to multiple men is probably not the smartest thing I have ever done. I have a phone full of my naked body and the bodies of numerous men. (I actually just went through and deleted all of them accept the ones of the email author mentioned above. Like I said, he's the current crush.) So, maybe it's a bad idea. But, just like I own my actions and my words, I also own my likeness and the idea to send it out to men (and more recently allow it to be published in a magazine) is my decision to make. I would hate to see myself on www.amateurs-gone-wild.com, but I can't control that, at this point. It would feel like a violation if someone posted or made public the nudes of me, but it happens. People have wound up nude on the internet in more deceptive ways.
So, I am sure if I should (for some unlikely reason) find fame in the future or if I should attempt to run for office, the pics of me in the bathtub will surface. There might even be a video or two. I will deal with that day if it comes. But, for now, I will continue sending out pictures and getting pictures in return from the men I miss or am curious about. I have done very few things that I regret. All of the things that I have regretted ended in me hurting another person. Never, have I regretted something in my life because it embarrassed me. Embarrassment happens. The main thing I think about is "could these pictures ever hurt anyone?" The odds of that are very slim. So, for now, I am going to adjust the lighting, get a good angle and press Send.
Since the beginning of literature, there have been forms of erotica. We might read it today and think "What tha?" But, at the time, it was provocative and steamy. And, since the beginning of the photograph, people have been taking pics of genitalia. Google it and get ready to see the fullest bushes you have ever seen. It's great for "us," because it's a look at the history of erotica and porn. It was great for "them," because it was something to look at while they spanked it.
Soon, there would be moving pictures and not long after, there was silent pornography. Since, we have seen pornographic magazines, mass-print erotica and millions of millions of pornographic "films." And that was just up to the early 90's.
The past 15 years have brought about a plethora of new ways to see and experience sex without being in the presence of another person. A combination of the internet and cell phones have brought us endless ways of sharing ourselves with others. Now, we can log on and watch strangers have sex or masturbate. For the right price, we can even direct the porn we are watching, typing instructions from the comfort of our own beds and watching the story unfold somewhere on the other end. I can snap a picture of my breasts and have it on the internet in 2 minutes. I can snap a picture of my vagina and have it sent to a man in one minute.
And, I have. I am guilty of sexting. I have sent nude photos and videos of myself out to men. I don't know many women and men that don't do it. (Though I know there are women and men that would NEVER. There is no need to send an email or write a comment. I know you nonsexters are out there.) I keep my face out of the pics for the most part, but I have tattoos and birthmarks that clearly show it's me. For a select few special men, I have sent a full nude with face included. But, for the most part, I leave men to play the role of a mental Frankenstein, working to piece it all together.
I am both a photographer and a writer, so my sexting doesn't end with the sending of nude pictures and videos via text and email. I have shared stories of fantasies with the readers of this blog and I have traded erotica with men via email. The exchange of words is a huge turn on to me. I don't do it often. I have had the rare experience of sending some pretty intense messages via Twitter DM. (This only happened once and it was a big surprise.) And, I have had one man write an erotic response to a post I wrote about him. I actually got that email tonight and it was a great surprise. I am sort of feeling this guy something extra.
In the end, sending naked pictures and videos of myself around to multiple men is probably not the smartest thing I have ever done. I have a phone full of my naked body and the bodies of numerous men. (I actually just went through and deleted all of them accept the ones of the email author mentioned above. Like I said, he's the current crush.) So, maybe it's a bad idea. But, just like I own my actions and my words, I also own my likeness and the idea to send it out to men (and more recently allow it to be published in a magazine) is my decision to make. I would hate to see myself on www.amateurs-gone-wild.com, but I can't control that, at this point. It would feel like a violation if someone posted or made public the nudes of me, but it happens. People have wound up nude on the internet in more deceptive ways.
So, I am sure if I should (for some unlikely reason) find fame in the future or if I should attempt to run for office, the pics of me in the bathtub will surface. There might even be a video or two. I will deal with that day if it comes. But, for now, I will continue sending out pictures and getting pictures in return from the men I miss or am curious about. I have done very few things that I regret. All of the things that I have regretted ended in me hurting another person. Never, have I regretted something in my life because it embarrassed me. Embarrassment happens. The main thing I think about is "could these pictures ever hurt anyone?" The odds of that are very slim. So, for now, I am going to adjust the lighting, get a good angle and press Send.
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About Me
- Poly Amory
- 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.