Monday, November 30, 2009

Canceled

I was supposed to go back for more testing, but my doctor cancelled it.  My dreams of seeing my beloved nurse-man are over.  I'm sure he doesn't work "regular" hours, so I undoubtedly couldn't count on seeing him this time, anyway.  But I'd hoped.

When I got the call cancelling my 2nd appointment my heart was heavy in my chest.  I'd already had a bad day and knowing I'd lost the chance to see my handsome man was very disappointing.  It all reminded me of living on the military base, hoping the hot boys I adored would come in and visit with me.  I miss that.  A lot.

I like the feelings the hormones give me.  I excitement, the happiness.  I crave it.  I was never so happy as I was during that time those years ago, surrounded by crush-able men.  I'm a flirtation junkie.  I can't deny it.  Is that wrong?

Friday, November 27, 2009

Hoooospital

I spent the night at the hospital last night.  No surprise, it was a planned thing.  Nothing to worry about, more preventative medicine than anything.  As with every other time in my life I have visited a hospital, I had a terrible night's sleep.  If it's not someone wandering in to take a temperature or check a vital then it's someone coming in to check a wire or prod at a sore spot.  Good times.

I was put in the capable hands of a gentleman who, well, he was kind of hot.  He put his hands in a lot of places and I tried very hard to make sure neither of us was uncomfortable about it.  However, after he left the room and I lay down to sleep I found my brain linger on him.  Instead of sleeping.  While he'd been setting me up for my evening at the hospital he'd described his own experience having similar work done.  And it made me envision him shirtless.  Naked.  OMG how I am supposed to sleep like this?

I forced myself to think of something else.  After all, my heart rate was being monitored.  But all night long I found myself drifting back to thoughts of him getting naked.  Getting me naked.  Oh, my.  I mean, he was at my god damned beck and call.  ALL NIGHT LONG.  When I needed to get up, he was right there, offering me a firm hand (to make sure I didn't disturb the equipment), so gentlemanly.

I lay back and imagined doing so many things to him and with him and... slept almost not at all.  Well, I can't say it was because of him.  But he certainly made the insomnia bearable....

And then I came home and had to masturbate while thinking about him.  It's been a while since I've felt that way about anyone.  I don't know what he thought of me, but I hope he'd be flattered to know he gave me a very nice orgasm.

Sunday, November 15, 2009

Sixty-something.

So I'm sitting there, masturbating to some nice porn.  A guy going down on this (very porn-looking) chick.  And I'm thinking "Oh, here we go again.  Rush through the oral sex so she can get to you" and then I did what I often do, which is skip ahead to see if I'm right... and... I was wrong.  He was down there a long time.  Granted it was still very fake porn head... but I'll try to settle.  Skip ahead a little more and... oh, 69.  I can get into that.

I've never been a big fan of the simultaneous oral sex thing.  There's something about the idea of "sitting on" someone's face that just totally skeeves me.  I cannot cope with it.  Give me another position (side by side for instance) and I'm there.  Of course, it's not hard to flip things around once the fun has started, but just don't mention the sitting thing.  Distract me, please.

I've heard other people talk about how they DON'T like 69 because it really is distracting.  Apparently it's too hard to both give and receive at the same time.  Or hard to enjoy either.  I fully admit my experience is limited.  But one of the times I've experienced it, I really did get distracted while sucking his cock.  Not enough to stop, mind you.  I mean, that'd just be wrong.  But distracted enough to become a mindless, deep throating, sucking machine.  All the things that usually bother me about sucking cock (teeth biting into the tender skin of my lips, for instance) were suddenly non-issues.

I won't lie, I didn't get off.  Maybe that mindlessness turned him off.  Or maybe he realized he was going to blow and I wasn't there, yet.  All I know is that I like to suck cock while I masturbate... so why NOT 69?