No sense...

Mason came in today. I talked to him a little. He was in his more approachable moods. It was nice. He did that thing he does where I feel like he has something else he wants to say but never really does. I'm really not sure what to think of it. But I imagine all sorts of dirty, wonderful things coming out of his mouth. They never do, though. And probably never will.

Trian came in again today and talked to me for a long while. He tells me sad things that make me think. I went home and talked to husband about some of them and how they relate to him and I and the way it hurts me even in such a hypothetical way to think about the things Trian talks about. I can't really explain better, I dont' think. But much of it has to do with being in love with someone who's manipulative and cruel and yet somehow still the one you love.

It brought back to me much of the heartbreak I felt when I broke up with the ex (or he broke up with me). Whichever it was, much as I still know he wasn't "good" or "right" for me it didn't matter so much to my heart. I think of all the people in the world I've known he's the only one who really broke my heart. That kind of love and heartbreak is really hard to deal with rationally. He's the only person I really think of as my "exboyfriend" because he was really that important to me. Thus he's the ex, though I never married him or even officially dated him. Heck, I doubt he even thinks of me as an ex.

Anyway, so between remembering so vividly the tears, loneliness, and pain of losing the ex whom I was only with for about 4 months, I can imagine what Trian's dealing with losing his wife....

So if it all seems disjointed it's the benedryl. But it all made sense in my head as I typed each sentence. Maybe I can make more sense tomorrow if I've failed so miserably tonight. I just needed the outlet.

Ha!

Recently, I wrote a entry in which I linked to some video samples. Keith went and looked and basically told me he didn't care for them. Which kind of annoyed me. Because it wasn't about getting off so much as referencing what I was writing about. So there.

So after mentioning the jack-off boys on youtube and wondering if perhaps there was a more xrated of version of the site where hiding their meat would be less neccessary I found xtube. I'm not convinced its as user friendly as youtube (nor do I promise they don't spam or do any other annoying things) but... it appears to be pretty much exactly what I was looking for. And hell, a ten minute amateur video for free is hard to shake a fist at....

Virgins with Virgins...

I was talking to this guy online. No interest in him, really. Well, I was once. But everyone makes mistakes.

I keep accusing him of being a virgin. Specifically a 16 year old virgin. It wouldn't surprise me if that were actually the case. He told me that being a 16 year old virgin would certainly put him into a good position to fuck other 16 year old virgins.

Which got me to thinking about my first attempts at sex. Specifically, with my first boyfriend (at age of 18). I won't talk about HIS age, but he was younger than me. Which probably technically makes me a criminal, though I don't feel like much of a pervert. He started it, dammit. Regardless, we shared a lot of firsts. He was my first kiss and I, his. The first time we kissed each other (with tongue) was... interesting. Afterward we stared at one another for a long moment and I think I said "that was really weird. I'm not sure we did that right." And he agreed, looking vaguely troubled.

Practice makes perfect and looking back I'm pretty sure our first tongue kiss was actually a real, normal kiss. It just felt so different from anything either of us had ever experienced. It took some getting used to. Time passed and we shared some really great kisses. I gave him all sorts of hand jobs and oral sex during that time, too, but when he came he always liked me to be kissing him on the mouth. Well. Not always.

Things progressed between us in that way, but he never agreed to us having "real" sex. I wanted to feel a man inside me for my first time and he refused. I put a condom on him once in preparation but he went limp very quickly and told me he'd changed his mind.

Eventually, we broke up, having never completed that particular transaction. Shortly afterward, I met a reasonably attractive guy about 10 years older than me who took my virginity. Were I to go back to him at my present level of knowledge and skill we'd probably be pretty fucking awesome together. However, because I was so inexperienced and he was so unprepared for my lack of understanding (and ultimately enjoyment) of sex, it ended up being pretty bad. He knew I was a virgin, I'm just not sure he really understood exactly how virginal I was. I think we ended up having sex three times. Maybe as many as four. And then he told me he thought I was getting too serious about him and he felt compelled to break things off completely before he broke my heart. I kind of think he just wasn't that into me and found the sex boring as hell. I wouldn't blame him.

It's my own memories of my crap-tastic showing during my early sexual experiences that makes it very clear to me that I definitely don't want to be anyone else's first time. Thanks but no thanks. That's just too much responsibility.

However, I do still find myself wondering what it would have been like to have had sex with my first boyfriend. The sharing and learning about our bodies and our bodies responses and the mechanics of sex might have been really special. Just the way our first awkward attempts at kissing led us to some really wonderful, passionate moments after the shared initial discomfort of not knowing what we were doing, I can't help but wonder if fucking him would have been similar. I wonder how my sexuality would have developed differently with him.

Anyway, I was thinking that maybe virgins with virgins isn't a bad idea. I'm sure there's something to be said for being a virgin with a more experienced man but looking back... I can't help but wonder how it could have been different.

None-for-you game.

A long while ago I read somewhere about women and men and sex. More specifically about married couples in which the woman wants sex less than the man. According to what I read (or watched on tv?) many of the women became increasingly physically isolated because they were convinced ANY phyiscal contact would lead to attempts for sex by the man in their life. It was easier to rebuff all physical affection than take the chance of sexually frustrating their partner further and starting a fight. I think of it as the none-for-you game.

I'm starting to think husband read the same article.

Last night I put him to bed, but I'm still excessively horny. Much as I attempt to keep my sexuality seperate from my relationship with him (because of the none-for-you game that I find so frustrating) sometimes I can't help but persue him. Last night, as I kissed him goodnight, crawled ontop of him and began kissing him more earnestly, moving my hips over his suggestively. Finally when we seperated he told me "but we can't. No matter how much you want a baby!" Which is of course NOT what I'm going for but rather his excuse to avoid sex. Fear of pregnancy. However, even when I was on the pill religiously he found excuses to say "no." (Which is pretty impressive since my libido rapidly disappears when on the pill, thus making my attempts at sex very few and far between).

The thing that I think irritated me most was the fact that I really wasn't trying to get him to fuck me. I still have my yeast infection (last night was the last night of treatment... please god let me be better by tomorrow!) and am therefore still off limits to sex. So I was really persueing the affectionate touching thinking he knew I was simply unable to follow through. Instead he wanted to play the none-for-you game. Which is really such a shame because I wanted cock so bad last night I would have happily given him a BJ without concern for getting anything back for myself (since he so hates to give it). Instead, I found myself kissing him again and persuing it no further. Wouldn't want to put him out, afterall.

Meanwhile, The Good Wife (her blog's somewhere out there) mentioned youtube. Specifically the fact that there are delightfully r-rated videos of various and sundry men masturbating. Specifically close ups of clothed, hard cock in hand. It took me a few half-hearted attempts to figure out "underwear bulge" was among the keywords that would unlock the mystery of what the hell she was talking about. Needless to say after several sexless days and much frustration... I found those videos very effective.

And it got me to wondering where the hell there's a more adult version of youtube. Where the underwear come off....

Irritated

I kept thinking of great topics to write about while I was at work but wasn't at liberty to do so. So of course now I've forgotten them. I suppose I could have written myself some notes but I have horrible visions of pieces of paper saying things like "sucking cock" falling out of my pocket.... I'm pretty sure sucking cock was NOT one of my topics.

I'm kind of expecting one of the guys I'm thinking about sleeping with to show up at work soon. I actually expected him to show up today but he didn't. Instead, this guy I really can't stand showed up at closing. After closing, actually. He's someone who comes on to me regularly and irritates the shit out of me while doing it. Because it's just... annoying. Since I'm at work I try to remain polite and offhand about it as he pretends to be, but mostly I want to smack him. He chose to be reasonable today and I didn't feel the urge to smack him at all. I wish the hot guys would come on to me.

I always wonder, though, if maybe some of them do look at me like that and I just don't realize it.

Trian has a work friend who comes into the store with him all the time, lately. I'm starting to feel like he's bringing his body guard. I've flirted with him a few times, not really intentionally. He's kind of cute. Latin. Sexy in that "he's not white!" sort of way. And he smiles a lot. Which is nice. I wonder, some, if perhaps he's actually interested in me more than I think he is. Or if I'm just the cashier who flirts with him occasionally.

So I wonder a lot when I look at some of my customers. Sometimes it's easy to see who is actually looking at me and who fails to notice I exist. Some of the guys, I can see that they're actually LOOKING at me... like I'm a real live person. And I always take special notice of them when they do that. Which leads me to wonder if perhaps that "LOOKING" that I'm referring to is something more than merely acknowledgement that I'm another human being but rather acknowledgement of me as a woman. Perhaps even as a sexual being....

Yeah, what do I know about guys?

Hopefully tomorrow I'll remember some of the topics I come up with to write about while I'm at work....

Not Immune

Like everyone else in the world, I too suffer from jealousy. For some reason, I tend to think my jealousy is more inexplicable and unpredictable than other people's. I seem to get jealous over very strange things. Although I tend to believe what I read in the book who's title escapes me right now. Namely, that we're jealous of that which we don't possess. Anything which we may technically "have" but not feel confident about "owning" causes jealousy. Well, something like that anyway.

In this particular case, Whit sent me a couple of pictures. Among them was one in which some girl was sitting close to his naked man-bits. In fact, it was pretty clear she was his photographer in his naked photos. So then I found myself looking for clues as to when, exactly, these photos were taken. And getting jealous considering that they might be very current. Are almost certainly very current.

The funny thing is, in some ways I'm not even all that into Whit. He's okay, but if something better came along I'd drop him like a bad habit. He's a nice guy (for the most part) and the sex is decent (I want GREAT!), and it's happens reasonably frequently... I really don't have much to complain about. But the infection pisses me off. I totally blame him. And then there's his aversion to condoms. Which is fine for oral (well, in my world) but when it comes to fucking... really mandatory. He can bitch all he wants, but I don't want a baby. Or a disease (never mind the infection).

So. Yeah. Jealousy? Inexplicable. Obviously the more I think about it, the more I'm able to deal with it and soothe it. Thus the reason I write.

Now with MP... yeah.. I'm pretty jealous. Because I'll probably never get another night with him and you know... much as I didn't want to do it... and put it off... he's a damned nice guy when it comes down to it. And his cock is pretty wonderful....

The less sweet things.

Being the sort of honest person I am, I was thinking about a few of the things that happened with Whit. The things that just make the whole experience so god damned... human. Things that bring a smirk to my face.

Like the fact that I'm very concerned about being caught out with Whit (and his apparent complete lack of concern) and him meeting me outside his place wearing nothing but jeans. Which I know I mentioned in the post. I mean, men don't generally go out to bring women into their "apartments" shirtless unless there's an expectation of getting more naked, I think. He has no sense of shame when it comes to his sexuality and apparently feels like it's really nobody's (or is it everybody's?) business who he's fucking.

Or the fact that when I went into his place it was completely dark save the light cast by his laptop screen. Which wasn't all that much since a movie was on with all it's dark scenes. And I got to find my way to a place to put my keys, wallet, and phone down.

Or that I lay down on his bed, trying to snuggle against him but found myself woefully unable to do so comfortably AND watch the movie... only to complain that he needs to get more pillows. "What? I have three," he said without guile, looking at me from his comfortably pillow propped position. I stared at him in the near complete darkness. "Right here," he finally said, reaching back behind the bed to where they were piled on the floor, uselessly. Moments later, they were knocked back into their home on the floor.

Or, after he came, the way he lay there for a few moments and I wondered "should I be touching him? should I NOT be touching him!?" trying to figure out the best way to help him recover from his orgasm without actually asking him. And trying to figure out which is worse, assuming he doesn't want to snuggle or being TOLD he doesn't want to snuggle? With me, anyway.

Or when he finally got up and walked over to the door and flipped on the glaringly bright light without warning, blinding me quite effectively.

Or a few minutes later when he flipped the light back off and led me out into the apparent pitch blackness of the living room, leaving me behind at his bedroom door as if I was going to find my way to the front door by myself. In the dark. Not knowing the layout. Thankfully, with my hesitantly whispered "umm... bye...." he came back through the darkness to help me trip over something indeterminate on my way to the front door.

It's the little things, really. Keeps me honest.

Also,

...I really want to snuggle.

Weird Dream

I had a dream. A very long dream. It involved being a guest at the Emmy awards (most of which I watched last night). I was staying in a Hilton which happened to be attached to the theater which was hosting the awards.

For some reason I was sharing a bit jacuzzi with a couple of other women (not hot, not overtly sexual types) as well as being looked on at by a couple of guys (hot, overtly sexual types). One of the two guys was supposed to be my "date." The other was Duane Johnson. The Rock. My fantasy man.

It was a long part of the dream involving the water being very murky and getting gradually colder and soapier until I started draining out the water while turning on the faucet to add some hot, clean water. Oddly, one of my tub-mates complained so I left it at something just above luke warm instead of letting to become more comfortable. And for some reason we were also cleaning out a fish tank. Except I was holding the air filter, trying to clean out the algae and gunk while in the tub, worrying all the while that the fish were going to die from lack of oxygenated water....

Eventually, bath time ended. I ended up standing face to face with my "date", a dildo inside my pussy (barely held inside, I'd occasionally reach down to push it's slipping length back inside myself). He was talking to me, wearing some kind of weird pharaoh or jester-like cap which extended out from and down the sides of his face, making our conversation seem somehow more private. I forget what he was saying, but it was kind of private... and extremely boring. Duane walked up behind me to take part on the conversation, moving very close behind me.

In the dream I suddenly felt my dildo being pushed firmly, deeply inside me. Duane had braced his knee against it covertly, still talking to the other man. His leg made small circling motions, rubbing the head of the dildo against my gspot gently but firmly. I tried to keep my face impassive, though I knew my "date" was aware of what was going on.

That part of the dream ended (no wet dream) and I was following Duane around trying to get a few moments alone where I could touch or taste him. Of course there never was a moment and eventually, I watched him, all apologies and disappointment as he was lead away in an entourage.

Then I woke up to pee. Kind of an odd dream. Rife with meaning, I'm sure. And sexual frustration.

Whit Again

I learned a few new things about Whit last night. Makes me almost feel bad about thinking about him as "the boy." While I don't think begetting offspring makes one automatically more mature, it does denote a certain level of responsibility. On the other hand, he's here and his kid's not... so whatever. He's still "the boy."

So, I went to see Whit last night. He apologized for sort of standing me up the night before. It really wasn't that big of a deal since I hadn't really been all that hot to come over that night. In fact, I wasn't all that hot to go over last night either. I still have my god damned infection and I still blame him for it. Knowing those two things I knew I wasn't going to get much out of going to see him. Nothing really personally thrilling. No orgasm. But he'd probably get his. Which is often okay with me. Except when I'm bitter and angry because he gave me an infection....

I showed up there, and he met me outside, shirtless. "Subtle," I said with a smile and a nervous look around for witnesses. It was mere minutes later, in his room that his mouth was on mine. He was less restrained this time than last. His teeth once again found their way to my lips scraping and biting them to swollen tenderness. His tongue swirled around my mouth as I tried to keep up with his excitement.

Whit's very good about nudging me around toward what he wants. A little shift here, a little pressure there and we're in a new position. Laying over me, he pulled me around so that I was on top of him, kissing him hard. His hands gathered up my loose hair in his hands, pulling it a little. No gentleness in the way we were touching each other. I moved my hips against his, feeling the pressure of his hard cock through the fabric of his jeans and mine. As I sat up to rest my hips and get my hair more thoroughly out of my face, taking some deep breaths, he pushed my shirt up, his mouth finding my breasts.

I arched into his mouth, feeling his teeth, again. I wrapped my hands around his shoulders, pulling him closer. His fingernails trailed down my back lightly at first. Each pass becoming harder. I followed suit, scraping my own nails over his flesh. I leaned down to bite his shoulder teasingly before he reached up to pull my shirt off.

Shirtless, I slowly made my way down his body, licking, sucking, and biting. I wanted to leave a mark on him since he's left several on me the last few times we've been together. However, I couldn't commit myself to that kind of duration or violence, being unsure as to exactly what he likes. I may have succeeded where I thought I failed, but unless he tells me, I probably won't know.

I let my tongue trail along his waist band, teasing him with the possibilities, but taking it no further. I moved back up to claim his mouth, rubbing my nipples over his skin, before moving back down to play some more around the edge of his jeans. He became impatient then, unbuttoning his pants. I laughed softly, then let my tongue slide over his now exposed cock head. He stilled, then letting my lips and tongue tease him some more. Eventually, I pulled his jeans down, trapping his legs in them before he could kick them completely off. I leaned over him and took slow barely-touching laps of his cock giving him just barely more relief than I'd shared while his pants were on.

Finally, I moved back up his body to let my breasts straddle his cock. He took them into his hands, pressing them together around his length and arching his hips. I licked the head of his cock when I could reach it, watching it disappear between my tits over and over. In his subtle but demanding way, he pressed against me, asking me to move my body over him, sliding his cock between my tits at my speed. I moved over him, licking and biting his skin gently until he urged me up to kiss him again.

The night was filled with much kissing, biting, and scratching. My body was alive with the sensations, though he made me cringe a few times so I had to stop him in his attack on my pierced nipples. But otherwise, I found the mild pain of the evening very hot.

At one point his fingers slid down to the crotch of my jeans, rubbing my clit through the fabric. I arched against the pressure, wanting so much to cum. However, experience has taught me I just can't get there and I wasn't about to take off my pants. "What can I do for YOU?" he asked me pointedly, making me melt in that moment. Fuck. That's a hot question. Especially from someone so reticent.

I shook my head, sadly, though, and said "nothing, unfortunately." He made an effort, making me writhe and moan with desire... but there was no release waiting for me at the end of it. It mattered to him, though. And he tried. But the lack of contact (and my disinterest in touching myself) made my orgasm impossible. But it felt so good to be touched the way he did....

Eventually, after much more time and effort on both our parts, he finally came for me. I barely tasted it, which made me briefly wonder what exactly he'd been doing all day, though I'm pretty sure I can guess. Shortly after, we both got up and reclothed ourselves, me heading home, him heading out to see his friends outside.

Slut.

I don't remember exactly what it was. But I suddenly thought "oh my god... I'm such a slut!" At least in my head I am.

It struck me the other day, at some point... in relation to something... that maybe most people don't think like I do. I was chatting up a hot guy the other day. I've chatted with him a few times before, online. We've never met. Never gotten too terribly serious in conversation, mostly superficial. He told me that he'd probably thought of getting me naked at least ten times during our very platonic conversation. And I thought "wow, I want to get him naked, too." At which point I thought to myself that if I didn't have certain circumstances (namely the infection) to deal with I'd most assuredly be trying to get an invitation to his place to get myself laid.

It was a few hours after that when I started thinking about the fact that most people wouldn't even seriously consider sleeping with someone they've never met previously. And then I started thinking about what it would be like to have those kinds of restrictions on my sexuality. Which aren't neccessarily BAD restrictions. Merely ones I've never really experienced for myself in a serious way. They're just not part of who I am, I guess. At least, not in that way. I do have some restrictions. But they're not exactly... laws, I guess.

I don't think badly of myself because I lack those controls. I think I'm fine. Great, even. There are those who're wilder than I am. And those who are more controlled in their sexuality. I'm happy where I am, for now. But it's interesting when these things strike me in that way....

Thing.

I've been debating for days but I finally decided I've shared with enough people that I might as well just write it here in the interest of being honest. I freakin' got a freakin' yeast infection. There's no doubt what it is. In this particular case, it's a classic case, though it's been years since I had one. And I'm super pissed.

I'm positive I caught it when Whit took it into his head to put one of his fingers up my ass and then (without my prior knowledge) used the same finger inside my pussy. I cringed when I realized what he did, but knew it was too late by then since he'd already done it. So I spent the next couple of days thinking all would be well....

Except it wasn't.

So now I've got a freakin' yeast infection. It's not hellish, at this point. Just annoying. And totally cramping my style. At least for most of this week. After that, though....

Meanwhile, I did tell Whit what happened and he apologized. Hopefully he won't pull that little trick on any other unsuspecting women. He's been asking me to come over anyway. "No sex" he says. I'm all for making out and fooling around. I suspect he's asking for a BJ, but he claimed last night that he was too drunk to even bother trying any of that. Maybe he really just wanted companionship. I can offer that. To a point. But then he fell asleep so I stayed home.

So yeah. Not happy.

Learning...

When I was last with Whit, he did a few things. And I learned a few things. I feel the need to recount them, now.

Among other things, I'm just not convinced it's a good idea for anyone other than myself to touch my clit. Further consideration has brought me to the conclusion that one of the main reasons I tend to have a hard time cumming, sometimes, is from the roughness and "wrongness" of the touch the men use, thus numbing my clit to my own "right" touch and attention. The idea of forbidding attention to my clit (and thus pretty effectively banning a guy going down) is really disappointing. But very possibly a neccessary request.

I really miss anal sex. It's unbearably painful, unfortunately. But having Whit's finger up my ass reminded me how very nice to used to feel. It's no wonder I used to be able to very effectively masturbate myself to orgasm when husband was inside me that way. Well. When it didn't hurt a bit.

I also spent the day eyeballing cute little boys at the store I don't like. And thinking maybe I shouldn't worry about age so much as attraction... except at least some of my attraction has always been based on age and experience.

Anyway.

Fuck

I want to. Just last week (or even more obviously, the week before) I was sure I wasn't going to get laid anytime soon. I looked to the future and saw months (maybe even years?) of sexual silence ahead of me. It wasn't a good feeling, but its something I can generally tollerate. At least to a point. Masturbation can do wonders.

And then Whit came along at just the right moment and broke me out of that. Sex with him was nice. Very. Being with him wasn't much like being with Keith... but who is? I loved the feel of his tongue, his mouth, and his patience. A man with his control is rare. And it's a beautiful thing.

Being with MP was delicious, too. I continue to look back fondly into my memories of that night together. Hearing, feeling, and tasting his reactions to my mouth on his cock. I love a responsive man. Someone who's learned to share their body's reactions through their words, or even just the catch in their breath. Fucking hot. Wrapping my lips around his cock, my tongue slipping back and forth over the skin as I took him as deep into my throat as I could, feeling his cock head pushing until it just barely gagged me I could hear his positive reaction. And it made me hot. I could have done that all night, if he'd have let me. Just to hear his breath catch just so, the whispered "yes" and "right there" all urging me to spend as much time as I could there, kneeling between his legs....

So with the recent memories of these two... I find myself both immensely satisfied... and completely wanting. I want more. Lots more.

Title Here

Keith told me I was taking the boy too seriously or something like that. He's not really wrong. But not really right, either. That night he really upset me. I took it kind of personally. I got over it. But then with the couple of comments I got, I figured I should at least give my thoughts on the matter. More and more, I think I should probably give up any thoughts of the boy. Because I remain pretty sure he's a great person but while I try not to hold a grudge I just have a negative feeling toward him. That could be changed but... does it really need to be? It's not like I have all the time in the world here as things stand. So, yeah. Not taking it THAT seriously. He just said the wrong thing at the right time for it to bother me is all.

Work today wasn't bad. I was in a very good mood since I get tomorrow off. I did have to go to one of the gates and get my god damned ID re-issued. Yesterday I went to do it and was told that, essentially, I could not and that the ID I had did not exist. When I explained the similar problem I had when I first got the ID, the woman gave me attitude and told me that there is NO way I got an ID with THAT particular problem. I took the problem to one of the people at HR and they took it to their point of contact and and went back to try again today. And got the same sort of attitude. I told them who to call and they tried to tell me I couldnt' have it, without calling. I insisted and... got my new ID. I really want to go back in time and smack the bitch that wouldn't give me my ID yesterday. But what with a pair of cops hanging around the building I suppose that could have been awkward at best.

Meanwhile, this guy who's been coming in and flirting with me a little came in today, again. It's been a while since he's been in and I found I missed him. This time he came in and was talking on his cell phone the entire time. The coworker I like was standing nearby as was one of the local workers. So while he was talking on his cell phone I started talking to the local guy telling him how very annoying and rude I think it is when people come up to the counter and talk on their cell phone the entire time when I'm trying to serve them. I think I repeated myself about three or four times, rather loudly. Everyone agreed with me, all of us looking at him pointedly. He never broke stride in his conversation as the local guy pointed out that this guy wasn't hearing a single word we said. As the transaction completed he hung up the phone and I smiled brightly, as if I hadn't been talking mean about him moments before and said "Hi! How're you?!"

He stared at me suspiciously, apparently completely unaware of the conversation that had been going on around him. "What?" He asked. I smiled brightly, saying nothing. "What... were you saying something to me?" he pressed. "No, sir!" I said, still too enthusiastically, and smiled again intentionally being very fake. The local guy, still waiting his turn laughed a little but said nothing. Finally the guy shook his head with a smile and said "gosh, she's so pretty" which immediately made me smile more genuinely and look away shyly, and then he left.

This guy is killing me with that. I couldn't believe he said that in front of other people. It's somehow the sort of compliment I'm used to getting on a one-on-one basis... in this case because there were witnesses, it seems much more genuine. He's got me thoroughly seduced. Seriously. He's done an excellent job of making himself excessively attractive to me and I'm totally give him credit for having done so. Bravo to him.

Run down.

I don't really feel like talking about the boy who finds me less attractive for having slept with some guy. I don't really know what he meant by it. I only know what I read from it. And I can only make my own assumptions. Maybe he is an ass. But I suspect He's just... young and inexperienced when it comes to "all that." Which probably means I shouldn't bother messing with him. Afterall, if he chooses NOT to persue that particular part of life experience it might cement that particular "bad" thought in his head. That sluts like myself are somehow inferior to their more prudish sisters. Or something equally unpredictable.

Luckily, I'm not really responsible for the life experiences of those around me. Everyone's big boys and girls and can live their own lives. It's merely up to me to decide how their life views fit into my life. So yeah. Whatever. Who knows what'll happen. Just because he's not exactly like me doesn't mean I don't like him. I'm just going to have to learn to protect myself a little more from that kind of thing.

On another note, I saw MP on my way home today. Just saw him. He was hanging out at a gate while I was driving past. He saw me (okay probably my car, first, then me) and yelled his nickname for me at me. Except he wasn't really AT the gate and was off to the side so I couldn't very well stop and have a conversation with him. Plus he was hanging with two other guys over there. So fuck that. I did yell back at him, though. Apparently he didn't hear me but the guy at the gate did and laughed.

Later on, I sent him a text which read "Begging." He responded with "For?" to which I replied "More. Of course." We texted a few times back and forth a few more times and he told me he didn't hear me yell back. It was really nice to see him again and have him at least acknowledge me. I really appreciate the "call back" or in this case... the holla. I like that kind of respect. And I kind of like MP. Damn. No danger of me falling in love, for sure.

I don't really know what else is going on with me these days. It's funny how I get a ton of sex one week and... nothing the next. Sure, I might still get laid as early as tomorrow. But somehow... I don't hold out hope. I'm working on making the house presentable. (Which is to say packing) and in so doing making it much more likely I'll be in a position to comfortably invite some hottie here while husband is away. Someone like, say, MP who lives ridiculously far away for me to go to his place.

Oh, and I found out the fate of Nils. It's.. not good. He was planning on quitting but apparently something much more umm... dramatic happened. Something dramatic and disappointing to me. And at the same time I would still fuck the hell out of him if he asked. So yeah, he's gone, now. Probably headed overseas or something. I'm so disappointed.

Frustration

So yesterday all day at work I had that happy, dreamy thing going on. I spent the day smiling for no reason. Grinning sometimes. Thinking about my weekend. Thinking about the fact that I managed to sleep with MP AND Whit, thus so completely breaking my celibate streak. Exactly what I needed. Which was great for the first half of the day.

The second half of the day I was still happy and smiling. But also increasinly horny. I found myself keeping an eye out for any number of men whom I have made eyes at or just generally found attractive. Many came in. And yet things never seemed to go as planned.

One in particular was this guy who's surely a couple of years younger than me. I think he's pretty hot. And he's always been funny and nice. Basically, I always kind of wanted him but never really figured it'd come of anything, so I flirt with him just a little. So he came in wearing a tank top showing off his rather lovely, military body. When he walked up to the counter I shook my head at him and said "what's up with your parading around here looking like some common street floozy?" He stood there, staring at me for a long moment a grin on his face and stepped slightly away as if flabbergasted. And maybe he was. But his smile belied his actions. I waited for a response momentarily before saying "I mean 'hi, how was your weekend?'" and smiled innocently. He said it was too short, an answer I get a lot. I mentioned that I got a bit too drunk on Saturday but I told him "I'm a very nice drunk." He smiled at me and told me, "yeah, I am too. A very touchy feely one." I stared at him, unable to respond, my thoughts swirling towards those possibilities. I SHOULD have said "we have to get you drunk!" Instead I continued to stare at him, unmoving. He put his finger on his chin and said "you're like 'hmm'" letting me know he knew exactly what was going through my mind. I laughed and finished the transaction. He left with a smile. It's only too bad he didn't wink.

Later on the guy that I accidentally flirted with a while back came in. I was already talking to Hawk (telling him FAR too much about my weekend activities) when he walked in... and as usual Hawk tends to stay too long. I really didn't get to have a conversation with the guy at all and he left before Hawk so I didn't get to even seriously consider propositioning him.

I kept looked at the people entering the store all night, still looking for Sam or another couple of guys. I knew MP wasn't coming in, but part of me hoped he would. I think today is the first day he'd be likely to come in. But probably much later in the evening. Damn. I was also looking for another AFF friend I ran into there. There's definitely some chemistry, although whether either of us will act on it, I can't say. Yesteday, however, I would have taken him into the back and done at least one or two dirty things to put a smile on my face.

Wade came in at the end of the day. The store was closed when I saw him walk into the lobby area to use the ATM. I stepped out and stared at him. "I'm stalking you," he said. Nevermind that I was the one looking at him. "You're doing a terrible job," I told him. We talked for a while. He asked me what my plans were tonight and I told him "to sleep." Explaining my schedule for the last week as well as my schedule for today. I asked if he wanted to come into buy anything and he smiled "how much?" I smiled back and said "more than you can afford." He grinned, "how do you know?" He got me there. So we talked a little more and I flirted a little more as he asked how my weekend was "VERY good," I told him. He asked about it and I said "if I told you, you'd be mad." "Mad?" He asked. "Jealous." "Ah, probably." I invited him in again to take out the garbage for me but he declined. No shock there. He asked if I was still moving. I said yes. He shook his head sadly and left just after that. I think if he would have come into the store I might have... made myself more available to him in that moment....

Trian came in, too. However, he pretty much came in and left, though I tried to be friendly. My coworker was there and we both try not to be too obvious of our more personal (if not intimate) knowledge of one another.

So yeah. Lots of "almosts" but too many "nots."

Lastly, Whit invited me over again last night but I declined. Which was the ultimate top off to my day. I turned down sex. But then again, it was after 10 and I had to be up in less than 7 hours. That's my story, anyway.

Morning thoughts.

My hips are thighs are a little sore from my get together with Whit last night. I apparently need to get fucked more often so I won't get crazy sore from stuff that shouldn't be terribly taxing. I'm glad I got some last night. I only wish it'd been more... passionate. I want more of someone like Keith and I'm frustrated I can't find him.

I feel like I'm willing to "settle" for MP. He and I could have some pretty fucking awesome vanilla sex. If I could just get it into my head that he wants me half as much as I want him. As things stand, I don't really believe ANYONE wants me which is making it a lot harder for me to get off than it should be, I think.

I'm getting all excited to head to work today. While some of my favorite men are gone and in some cases long gone (Nils, for instance) there are still a few I'm looking forward to seeing. I remain foolishly hopeful of seeing Sam. And even one of the newer guys who's taken to flirting with me.

Somehow I'm in super-slut mode. I want to fuck everyone I can get my hands on while I can. God forbid I wait too long and end up regretting missing out on some guy I could have been with. Though, despite my new found desire to fuck everything in pants, I suspect things around the house are going to start becoming crazy and tense in the next few weeks as our move cross country gets closer. Sex may be the only thing that keeps me sane... let's hope it doesn't stop.

Meanwhile, one of the guys I've been chatting up managed to offend me. I think I'm too easily bruised sometimes. Especially when it comes to sex. He's a cute, single boy whom I've been chatting up for ... well... not very long, really. Which makes it all even more silly. I've taken a personal liking to him. Like this is someone I'd like to keep as a friend, regardless of sex or distance. I told him I was pretty fresh back from seeing another man and he told me "it's too bad that makes you less attractive to me." Which somehow came across as being very mean.

Obviously, he has ever right to feel about things the way he wants to feel. However, I'm soooo thrilled to finally be getting laid even semi-regularly after 6 months of NOTHING... and it makes me less attractive? Fuck everyone anyway. I deserve good, regular sex and since no one's readily providing me with that outlet, I'm going to go fucking find it myself. Even if it means fucking my way through the state one man at a time. I mean, three times over the course of 7 days isn't THAT much sex. 3 times in the last 6-9 months is nothing. It's all about perspective.

Anyway. Today should be a good day. At least I didn't have to work the morning shift.

With Whit

So I cleaned myself up and headed out to see Whit. He was waiting for me in his room. I called but he didn't answer the phone. So I waited a minute and tried again. Still no answer. I was vaguely annoyed and unsure as to what to do. I checked his number to make sure I'd gotten it right and discovered I had. Finally, I thought to call husband and ask him to let Whit know I was waiting outside. Husband complied and then I laughed at how silly the whole thing was. There's something vaguely messed up about having to use my husband to get my hot date rolling. And so appropriate.

Whit came out and walked me into the room and I immediately worked to get comfortable. He lay down on his bed and I joined him, curling up in the crook of his arm. It always feels so good to me to lay in that position (so long as a guy's shaped right... which Whit kind of isn't but I was still happy to be there) so I closed my eyes and relaxed, waiting for his attention and relaxation.

It occurs to me now that maybe he's waiting for me to make the first move. But since I don't really HAVE to... I just haven't been. Maybe next time I will. Just to change things up a bit. Take over. Show him a small trick or two. Not that I appear to know many he doesn't already.

He turned toward me and started kissing me, his deep, hard kisses. Not so much teeth this time. I was vaguely disappointed. I bit his a few times, just to see but he didn't change his tactics. The kisses were deep and immediately passionate. He guided me so I was on top of him and removed my shirt. I arched my hips against his cock trying to get the pressure just right. His fingers were on my tits, his mouth still glued to mine. Eventually, I moved down to slide his shorts off and give his cock a single, short lick before moving back up his body to kiss him some more.

He flipped us over and took off my pants, sliding down between my legs to lick my pussy. I was kind of surprised and pleased when he chose to do it so early on. I'm very much not used to a guy going down so willingly and quickly. He's pretty good at it, but he's one of those guys who falls prey to bugging the shit out of the tip of my clit. I suppose I should have told him (to be fair) but I still find it awkward to be that forward and not feel like I sound like I'm saying "you're not good at it." Still, it was pleasant and I enjoyed it, arching my hips up against his mouth so I could feel his chin and tongue against the most sensitive spots.

Eventually, he moved up and I kissed the taste of myself off his mouth, licking and sucking the juices away. I love smelling and tasting myself on my lover. We turned over again so I was on top of him and I took him into my mouth. I sucked his cock for a while then let him fuck his cock between my tits while I tongued his tip as best I could.

I wanted him inside me so I moved up his body. After a few moments I took him deep inside me his cock filling me. I rode him for several minutes before he moved us around so he was on top. He leaned down against me, our mouths locked as he moved. He arched himself up, then, our bodies only connected by his cock inside me. I reached down to play with my clit a little, priming my body for the orgasm I was about to demand of it.

After a couple of minutes of steady fucking I asked him if he was okay with doggy style. With his assent I moved around and grabbed my lube, using it on my clit so I'd cum quickly. He put some on his cock for reasons unknown (hoping he'd get my ass?) and slid inside me from behind. His cock felt wonderful inside me. Except I kept thinking about MP's thick cock and how much better that thickness would feel inside me just then. Which was a terrible distraction.

Whit finally stopped fucking me and slide his fingers inside me to take over for his apparently very sensitive, tired cock. One of his fingers worked into my asshole and I was tempted to warn him to stop right then. But the single finger felt really awesome and I'm no fool. I pressed back against him as he fucked my pussy and ass with his hand. He tried to work another finger inside but it just hurt too much so he started concentrating on just my pussy. I don't know how many fingers he used (going for the whole hand?) but I could feel him stretching my opening to the point of pain. I kept fucking back on him, though, feeling his hand hitting my pubic bone slightly painfully as he raked his finger nails over my thigh with his other hand. I came after that, trying to bite back my cries. Knowing his roommate was awake and very close by. I suspect I was louder than I'd planned.

After I came I sat up and turned around, taking his cock back inside my body, me on top. I leaned down into him, holding his body close as I flexed my hips against him as fast as I could, biting his shoulder with the pleasure from my orgasm and the intense sensation of having him back inside. After a minute I asked him how he'd like to cum. "Where do you want me to cum?" He asked. One of my least favorite questions. I'm pretty sure there's a "right" answer which will surely turn him into a quivering mass of jelly. With MP he was pretty clear that his "right" answer was in my mouth. But not all men are the same, I think. Maybe I'm supposed to say "my face" or "my tits." I never know. I generally turn the question back on them, but obviously if they were confident enough to just fucking tell me they wouldn't ask me in the first place. Plus, there's probably something hot about having a woman ask for it. The right place. That place I get to guess.

So, having so recently returned from a lovely evening with MP I went for the same guess, "do you want to cum in my mouth?" I asked. I'm also aware this is not the correct way of expressing this request in order to best turn a guy on. Something more like "would you please come in my mouth? or Come in my mouth!" would probably be hotter. But since I'm playing the guessing game, it's a little harder.

He agreed and I moved down to take his cock back into my mouth. Occasionally he'd use his hand on my hair to guide my movements. One of the hottest things a guy can do to me.... and it wasn't long before he unloaded his cum into my mouth. I sucked and swallowed, losing not a drop this time. I swallowed and licked my lips, moving up to give him a very chaste kiss before curling up with him to dry off from the sweat we were both dripping.

A successful evening, indeed. I left shortly after that and came home to have a lovely message on my computer from him thanking me for coming over tonight. Certainly the way to my heart. I love follow up.

More thoughts on MP and getting ready....

I really decided to write about my night with MP because I had nothing bad to say about him. He's a handsome guy with a lovely body and a nice attitude. I think he acts pretty stupid when he's horny and just lacks sense when it comes to getting women into bed. But of all the flaws a man can have, that's certainly not a major one. Well, at least not from my POV. And while it was a turn off, when I considered what he NORMALLY acts like, it's much more forgivable. Clearly, given his shyness and inability to really take the initiative last night he's not terribly confident about getting to third base, although once he's there he seems okay. I'm no better that way and say and do some stupid shit on the way there, myself. So, obviously I don't have too much to say.

I'm still trying to figure out the "I haven't had a good blowjob in 5 years thing." I know he was in a very monogamous relationship with a woman last year which apparently lasted a few years, but since then he's had some time to get busy. And he's certainly attractive enough to get laid when he wants. I'm kind of floored. I'm not sure if his intended didn't actually go down or if she was just bad at it... but either way... why the hell would you even consider marrying someone like that? I remind myself I'm in a sexless marriage... but god damn, at least he lets me fuck around. And had I known we wouldn't be having sex like... at all... I don't believe I would have made the choice to marry him at all.

And then there's the condom situation. I absolutely adore that there was really no question that he was going to use protection. No question at all, he came prepared. But I'm also a little floored that he was really so ill prepared. I mean... I just don't think he realized that the condom simply didn't fit him. Looking at his cock essentially shrink wrapped, shiny and smooth.... that's just not how it should BE. That lack of like... texture isn't pleasant from my side of the latex, either. I can still feel the pressure, but there's a distinct lack of friction, which I value. So I've got this minor obsession with teaching him the fact that his cock is much wider than he must think it is, and that he needs to treat it like the valuable asset is and wear a proper condom.

Which really translates into a minor obsession with seeing him again. Which I suppose is really me begging him for more. Which is exactly what he said I would do. Fucker.

Meanwhile, Whit's waiting for me. I need to go freshen up and head over before he becomes impatient. I fear I need his cock far more than he needs my pussy.

On a side note, he left those couple of marks on my body and seemed to like the idea of hurting me a little bit. While I didn't give him carte blanche to use my body, I certainly told him he's allowed to mark me anywhere it doesn't show. He told me that he's "into a lot" which isn't terribly telling but I told him basically, that I was pretty open to whatever. So maybe, just maybe, he'll give me the violent fucking I so richly desire.

At the very least, I'm sure to have another story to share.

So I avoided MP's question as best I could. Suspiciously. And moved on.

We lay on one of the beds, both dressed, and talked for quite a long time. About some things and nothing and neither of us made much of a move. I was still drunk and giggly and he was quiet but laughing at me. A couple of times he started touching my nipples gently, playing with my nipple rings but I didn't respond all that strongly and he never followed up. I even went so far as to pull my shirt up, exposing my naked breasts but he didn't follow up then, either. Didn't even touch them. I think he said something like "you're not very shy about that". Which is true. Apparently the same could not be said for him.

Eventually, he got up and went to the bathroom and upon his return wandered over toward the chair. "Ah, I hadn't seen that before," he said excitedly, moving the ottoman, "these can be a lot of fun." I stared at it for a long moment and said "I hadn't thought about it..." suddenly considering the possibilities. He had said, after all, that he was going to fuck me and I'd be begging for more. Surely that'd be a good way to make that happen....

I thought for a second and said, "I meant to have you pick out a condom before we got started." My eyes drifted closed and I heard a small crinkly noise. "I can't see! Oh... I should open my eyes," I said stupidly and saw him holding a three pack of condoms. "Gotcha," I said.

He said something else then. Something about why wasn't his cock in my mouth or why was it taking so long. I forget what, but it was crass and sexy and impatient. I reached up snagging the sleeve of his shirt to pull him down in the bed, my intent to have him laying next to me so I could crawl over him and have my way. Instead, as I pulled him down his mouth found mine in a deep, long kiss.

His tongue was in my mouth and mine in his as his hand quickly and deftly slipped under my waist band and into my underwear. I knew how wet I was already and I knew he could feel it, too. Especially when he curled a finger up inside me, aiming for my gspot and finding it with no problem. I think I moaned into his mouth, arching my hips up to meet him as my own fingers found his belt. Already open. I smiled against his mouth, amused at his forethought, and quickly unhooked the button of the pants, reaching my hand inside to find his thick, hard cock.

I found myself pleasantly surprised by his thickness. I had expected something a little more... average... but found myself impressed. His fingers stayed inside me as I awkwardly maneuvered to play with his cock better. Finally, he started to pull of my pants so I worked at his a little before finally telling him, "look, I'm a little drunk. Help me." He slipped out of his clothes and stood naked and hard before me. I reached for him to draw him closer and wrapped my mouth around his cock while his hand went to work on my clit.

I knew he was being too rough with the poor girl, but at the same time he wasn't doing that terrible thing with the tip that makes my entire body cringe, either. I considered stopping him but decided I might as well let him try. It was ultimately my undoing.

I worked his cock over, tonguing his balls, licking and sucking to my heart's content while his breath caught and he moaned, whispering now-forgotten words to me. I strained my eyes upward to see him watching me, which always pleases me. By now we were both so focused on his cock I can't remember that he was touching me anymore. He probably stopped, though if he didn't I don't remember.

It wasn't so long before he was whispering "don't stop... don't... stop..." to me over and over as I brought him closer and closer to orgasm. Finally, he came. I swallowed his load, barely tasting it's bitterness, keeping my mouth wrapped around his cock for a long time, making sure he was well and truly done before drawing away. My fingers slid over his balls and up teasingly as he reached for a condom.

I stared at him in awe. "Umm... isn't it too... sensitive?" He stared back at me as I became more bold with my hand, rubbing up and over his cock head. "Not right now," he said after a moment of consideration, slipping the condom on. I watched, wincing as he slid the rubber over his cock head, pushing it down the length. "Doesn't it feel like... like it's cutting off some circulation or something?" I asked. "You get used to it," he said. Staring at his tightly encased cock I had to give a mental shrug. If that's what he was used to....

He moved on top of me and tried to slip inside but he was just that much too soft. "Turn over,
he told me. He tried again but was still too soft. "It'll be a minute," He told me. I waited for a minute before turning over and around to see what I could do to help. His cock was in hand, the condom long gone as he worked it, kneeling there on the bed. "If you turn on some of your porn it'll pop right back up," he told me. I smiled at that, considering doing it but instead took him back into my mouth, content to let him be soft so long as I had my cock-sized pacifier.

He got hard pretty quickly and asked "how do you want it?" "The same way," I said, moving onto my knees. He stood next to the bed, taking the time to force on another condom, and I took my place, legs spread properly to give him a nice angle of entry. He slid inside me again, and began to fuck me. His cock battered at my gspot delicously, but I had to pee and couldn't reach my lube. Finally I stopped him so I could run and pee. Upon my return we resumed, my lube in hand. However, with my bladder empty my gspot just wasn't getting the same stimulation and my clit was practically non-existant from the roughness he'd used on it earlier.

I internally sighed in frustration and gave up, "you don't have to wait for me," I said, adding, "I told you I was difficult." He began fucking me in earnest then, and I could feel his body building up to his second climax. "Do you want to taste it?" He asked in a strained voice.

I'm not the kind of girl who refuses a man's requests in such a situation. At least, not usually. Plus, it was pretty clear his desperately wanted the answer to be "yes." So I gave him the answer he wanted and he slipped the condom back off and slid into bed. I moved up between his legs and began working his cock again, with my mouth and with my hand. My hair kept getting in the way and he would shyly move a bit of it out of my face so he could see a little better (I couldn't see him) as I continued to suck, lick, and jerk his cock.

Eventually I moved looking for my hair-thing so I could tie my hair back and get back to work. He found it for me and I pulled my hair back. "That's better," he said as I returned to work on his cock, my eyes once again straining to watch the pleasure on his face. I liked seeing the effect I was having and listening to him muttering "right there... yes... don't stop... there.." over and over and over.

However, apparently I was doing it wrong because he eventually took his cock back in hand while I licked and sucked at his balls, letting him get himself to the point of no return. He let me know he was on the verge and demanded I "take it." It took me a second to figure out what he meant as I took over what he'd been doing, taking his cock back into my mouth as my hand slid up and down the shaft. He came for the second time that night and leaned back, spent, his body shivering.

I laughed at him, resting my head on his thigh, close enough to smell the fresh mix of pussy, cum, and sweat coming off his body and loving that scent of sex. "Sensitive now?" I asked, as he continued to shiver occassionally. "Yes, don't even LOOK at it," he told me as I smiled again, staring at his rapidly softening cock. I breathed across it and laughed.

We had a conversation then, about his body art as I lay there against his thigh. He told me it'd been five years since he'd had a good blow job. I considered his wording for a while, trying to decide if there was an insult or a compliment in there for me. I finally asked and he said that indeed, I was good. I smiled at that, "I told you," I said. He responded with, "and you said you were out of practice." Which is entirely true. Although I'd worked on it with Whit the other day and at this rate will be back into practice very quickly.

So now I'm thinking of devious ways to get MP to invite me over to his place. This might have been nothing more than a one night stand. It might only be great for his ego to have me asking for another invite so much like the one I refused months and months ago. Or it might end up becoming a night of rather stunningly good sex. I'm okay with the former but would vastly prefer the later, obviously.

With bigger condoms because I swear to god that man has no idea what he's packing....

With MP

So the night was wearing thin and I was expecting MP. Except I still had a few more hours. And I was getting impatient. I was tempted to schlep down to the bar and see if my breakfast flirtation was hanging out there, though he didn't seem the type so I knew it was unlikely. Besides, I already had a date with MP and I could hardly get out of it. And I was pretty sure I didn't want to get out of it. For months now I've been carrying the feeling that maybe I've been wrong to put MP off as long as I have. However, it's struck me as just slightly more of a good idea to tell him "no" than to tell him "yes" so I've continued to put it off despite my misgivings about it. Tonight I was pretty fucking sure he was going to prove to me my foolishness and make me regret all the wasted months.

My coworkers called me and invited me to go to the bar downstairs with them and I was kind of freaked out. How could I possibly sneak away from them subtly and still not make MP wait too long? I called MP and asked him how much longer it'd be until he arrive and I swear to god even as the phone was ringing one of my coworkers came walking out the door toward me. I walked away so she wouldn't be able to hear me and told him what was going on. He told me to think of an excuse (well, DUH) and he'd call me when he arrived.

So we went into the bar where I consumed a beer, another half a beer, and a martini-esque mixed drink. I was pretty much drunk (I'm a cheap date) by the time MP got there. He called and I made a hasty exit saying I'd be back. I took him up to my room and settled him down telling him I was utterly drunk and I was sorry and giggling a lot. I headed back downstairs quickly and told the girls I didn't want to be too drunk before I drove home nor did I feel like dancing so I was going back to my room and for them to have a good night and a good drive home.

Back up in the room I found MP watching TV. We talked for a while and it was during this time that he pointed out I'd changed my AFF name (shortly after he found me). I stared at him. Because I wasn't sure what to say. Any long time reader of my blog (who pays attention) will remember that the name I used on AFF and the name and blog title I used here were exactly the same. It was a thoughtless choice and one I rectified by deleting that AFF account and changing my blog info. Unfortunately, MP still knows that name since it's what he has my listed under on his instant messanger. A quick google will certainly tell all.

Anyway, there is much much more to be told, but I'm going to save that while I consider the possibility that MP might finally think to google me and find out my evil little secret....

Oh to lick...

The title has really nothing to do with the blog entry.

So, I expect MP to give me a call in about 3 or 4 hours to say he's in the area. I can't believe I'm actually finally going to have that man in my bed. Well, the hotel's bed. The hotel's full sized bed. But fuck, how big does the bed need to be?

I'm looking forward to it. Afterward, I might check out with him and head back home in the wee hours. Hopefully before all the drunks are on the road. I was thinking about getting a little drunk myself. Not before driving, mind you. Just in general. Because I can. Because it's my last night where I don't work the next day and god damn I need something.... Besides just the sex, I think.

Meanwhile, I came across an AFF ad in French. I took it to Babel fish and translated it there, wondering just how accurate my own pathetic attempt at translation was. It came up with the following:

I will not say large-thing on me... If I reveal all, it is not any more exciting... The mystery forms part of the seduction... Even if I seek for the moment only meetings without catch of head, because I do not wish to be posed for the moment... I will say just this: if you of enough of the infernal trio foot - beer and heaviness and that you are rather Basque ball - grenadine and sensuality, then one is likely to get along! ; -)

do not want to write what everyone already read of the hundreds of times as for only one seeks at a partner... What I seek, it is with you me to make it discover... The language of the body is much more speaking that the words...

I'm a little mystified by the Basque ball (not to mention the infernal trio foot). But I rather liked the bit about "the language of the body is much more speaking that the words..." Badly translated though it might be, it's still a lovely expression.

Also, I could NOT be more shallow than my searching the site for pics of big cocks. I loathe men who only have pics of their cocks. But I can forgive the guys with the really, really impressive members. I can forgive them just about anything, really.

Attempting to flirt

Last night in the middle of the night I listened to my two fellow out of town coworkers chatting up the manager whom we were working for. We were all sitting around wasting time and of course, since we're three females sitting there the conversation turned to sex. It was a really amusing conversation in which I was reminded very strongly of "how the other half lives."

All three women were very passionate about the fact that their man best not be cheating on them. In fact, one of the women had already left her husband under just those sorts of conditions. Anyway, conversation (which I was only listening to and not contributing to in any way) turned toward open marriage. I absolutely kept my mouth shut then and tried to look only as interested and disassociated as I had when they first started talking. The conversation went something like "oh, NO... NO NONONONO." Or something along those lines. To each his or her own, I say.

Conversation moved on to talk of cucumbers, bananas, and vibrators. Which had me laughing and blushing. I don't blush all that often but I turned bright red for that. Very amusing.

Lots of talk of STDs and AIDS, too. Misinformation (which I chose not to correct because it wasn't harmful misinformaton) and lots of stories of unfaithful spouses passing it on. It's a rather serious subject and it made me worry (once again) about the brilliance of my newfound sluttiness. On the other hand... I'm a big kid and I want my cock-sized pacifier, dammit. And condoms. Lots of condoms.

This morning I went down with my coworkers to enjoy the complimentary breakfast (which, it turns out is pretty damned good). I ended up in the center of a corner booth trapped by the two women around me. Before us was a middle-aged man wearing a white shirt, tie, and slacks. Very dressy compared to my pajama wearing coworker and the two of us who were more casually dressed. I was feeling pretty confident I guess because I spent much of the next half hour watching that man. I know he caught me a few times and I couldn't help but smile hugely knowing I'd been caught, though I only met his eyes a few times.

He turned his chair around, finally, to watch what was on TV, and in so doing turned more fully toward me. I kept my eyes pretty much to myself, which was probably a mistake. Eventually, he got up and left and I couldn't help but wonder if he was hoping that I'd follow him. Except I was trapped. So I sat there and mooned over the fact that he was probably long gone. The conversation flowed around me and I moved on.

But he came back, asking the waitress for another cup of coffee. I watched him come in and as he left, his eyes met mine again so I smiled flirtatiously and looked back down at my drink, shyly. Fucking shyness, here I was trying NOT to be so shy and there I was... being shy. Fuck. He turned and walked away again and I watched him go.

When I finally got up, I looked around the lobby for him, but he was already gone. I hope that at the very least, I improved his day a little. He helped improve mine.

Water, water... oh, whatever.

So, work is kind of messing with my mojo. The terrible graveyard shift hours are killing me and making it really hard to set up any kind of get together with guys. However, there are some realistic prospects awaiting me on the morrow. We'll see.

Meanwhile, yesterday evening I was headed down to the hotel lobby to meet my coworkers for our daily car pool when two guys came out of a room ahead of me. My room is as far from the elevators as possible while theirs was much closer. I was walking quickly, but they still beat me to the elevator and stepped inside well ahead of me. I'm not the sort who likes to share an elevator, however, just as the door was going to close one of the guys stopped it and leaned out to ask "going down." My immediate thought was "only if you ask nice." However, I instead said "yes." Somehow I ended up completely dismissing one of the men (didn't even look at him) and instead eyeballed the other. I'm sure they must have noticed. We spoke breifly in the elevator and I zoomed out to meet the girls since I was a little late. But I wonder what exactly is going on in that room and why I had an intense desire to seek a hot threesome....

Even earlier in the day (and probably a good part of the reason I was eyeballing the guy) I got to chatting up an on-again-off-again chat friend. I've been chatting with him off and on for at least a couple of years now. Maybe twice or three times a year I hear from him at all. He's rarely on. So we got to talking and he was asking about my interest in a threesome. He told me he's discovered some bi-interest in himself and thinks maybe a MFM threesome (with a hint of MMF) might be nice. I immediately thought of Keith. So the guy and I chatted for a while and finally I told him I needed to masturbate and head out. He begged me to let him at least listen to me cum. "You don't even have to talk," he told me. Although when I finally gave in and did call him he asked me a few questions. I got down to business and probably came within 3 minutes, his own moans very close behind. "Well, I should get going," I told him and that was pretty much the end of the conversation.

While I was at work MP finally gave me a call. Took him long enough. Unfortuantely, I was unable to give him a work schedule at the time so I had to basically put him off yet another day, much to my disappointment. While we were talking I said something like "You know, I hate to tell you, but nobody likes you." My coworker was in the room at the time I said that and she laughed and said I was bad, or something like that. At which point I got really embarassed because I'd been overheard, so I laughed it off. MP said something like "sounds like you're in a very good mood!" Which of course I was so I said something like "Yes, because you called" which was embarassingly true... and not really the only reason (as detailed above).

Anyway, it wasn't until close to 1 in the morning when our schedule was set. But hey, I get Saturday off. Or so I'm told. This is a very good thing with very much potential.

Water water everywhere but not a drop to drink

The men in my life are all annoying the shit out of me. Well, okay. Not really. But many of them are annoying.

I hardly hear from MP. I wrote him a message last night telling him that he's a bad man for ignoring me. He told me to call him Saturday and/or he'll call me "today or tonight." *sigh* As soon as I read that message I reminded myself I really am NOT desperate enough to be coming across like this to him. So fuck it all anyway. I've done my part and I COULD call him Saturday, but I'm not promising anything.

I did hear from another potential in the wee hours this morning. It's a guy I'm pretty interested in, but who dissappeared for a bit. Which is okay. Except, you know, when I was horny he was nowhere to be seen. He was the one I would have most happily gone to see Sunday. Alas, since he wasn't around and that charmer Whit was... well... he lost out.

Now, that fact that I did go to see Whit doesn't mean I can't see THIS guy. In fact, given the option I almost certainly will.

As for Whit, assuming I'm not still on crazy, insane schedule I'll probably see him again this Sunday.

Man Frustration

I spent my work day torn. Torn between work and thinking about men. Mmm. Men. Unfortunately, the men I'm working with right now are leaving a hell of a lot to be desired in the "hot" department. In fact, today one had BO so bad I actually started gagging. Luckily, it was after he'd already walked away. Although it might have served him right to know his stench was that bad. Then again, maybe he really can't control it. All I'm saying... it was rank.

So I was thinking about Keith and all the kinky things he's done and will do and what part I'd like to play in that. Of course nothing is "decided," it's all fantasy, really. But it amuses me. And it makes me smile to think about the really sexy, kinky guy lurking under the middle-class image he projects. Fucking awesome. I love that. And I love knowing these secret things about him.

I was also thinking about the boy from the other night. Whit, he'll be called. I looked in the mirror earlier and could still just barely make out the marks he left on my neck. They're mostly gone by now. But I still can't help but smile when I see them. It'd been so fucking long since I got fucked.

The fact that he got me really, really close to cumming still sort of floors me. Like there's almost no reason why I didn't, except I think it kind of freaked me out. I can't even express how close I was at least once, there. And then I was thinking if he DOES manage to get me off... oh my god. Here's a man who'll go down in history in my mind. Unforgettably. Not that I'll fall desperately in love with him or anything. Please. But he'll certainly have a special place in my thoughts. I was trying to think of some delightful reward I could offer him for such a gift. 600 thread count sheets? Something like that sounds like the sort of thing that'd be appropriate. Or my undying gratitude. Whatever.....

And I was also trying to figure out what to do about MP. I think my schedule is such that he just can't seem to find it in his heart to get up early enough to come take care of my needs and then get off to work. I'm considering suggesting he come spend the night in my hotel room after he gets of work. That way he can sleep here and when I get back from work I can wake him and....

But since he never writes or calls I suppose I ought to just write this one off as the bad idea I've always thought it was and accept that even though I have this damned hotel room for a WHOLE WEEK. I'm just not getting laid.

Fuck. Thank god I nailed Whit.

Remembering and looking forward.

I have to admit life's treating me pretty fine right now. At least on a sexual front. I keep trying not to get my hopes up. However, with this many willing men on the line it seems likely at least one of them will manage to keep up with me. The guy from last night (well, the night before... but my schedule's messed up....) has potential on that front. I've already heard from him again and it seems likely we'll get back together very soon. I'm fucking thrilled. I need someone nearby... and at least marginally available. Not that I think it's even going to last out the rest of my stay here on this coast. Or even the next whole month. But maybe. Just maybe.

Turns out, besides the scratch marks he left on my shoulder (which were faded by the time I started work this evening) he also left a few marks on my neck. While they're technically hickies, they're very small and spread out and look almost like a weird rash. I'm okay with that. Because I look in the mirror when I wash my hands and see them and smile. It suddenly hits me "oh, yeah... I got laid!" Which is a fucking awesome thing.

I only wish I'd been thoroughly fucked. I would have enjoyed feeling the full length of him buried inside me. It's that fullness that I'm craving most right now.

I'm almost certainly going to see MP in the next couple of days if our schedules mesh well enough. As things stand while I'm getting ready for bed, he's fast asleep, while he's getting ready for work I'm fast asleep, and while I'm getting ready for work he's already at work. Which is to say there's not really a time today or probably even tomorrow where we'll be able to effectively communicate let alone get together. (And here's the craziness when I say "today" I mean Monday and when I say "tomorrow" I mean Tuesday... except Monday was yesterday and Tuesday is today, therefore, you have to translate that today is yesterday and tomorrow is today. Good luck.)

So yeah, I don't know. It's all very weird. And I shouldn't really even be entertaining the idea of getting together with him because when I close my eyes and try to visualize touching or kissing him I get kind of weirded out. I've rather disliked him for a while and it's hard to set that aside. But I want to. Because I don't REALLY think my dislike of him has been fair nor kind. He's not a bad guy. Plus, I actually think he might be pretty good in bed. Or he's a good faker (not fucker).

Meanwhile, I was going to try to stay awake for the breakfast buffet thing they have downstairs so I could have a proper "dinner" but I'm fading far too fast and am going to bed to get the sleep I so richly deserve.

It's in the details.

Last night was a bit of a fluke, really. As many of my great sexual adventures often are. A very local young man emailed me and asked if I wanted to chat. Being the hormonal, horny, bored woman I was, I accepted. He's emailed me before and I've ignored him, thinking he's far too close, young, and hot for me to be agreeing to do dirty, dirty things with him.

However, last night, horny as I was, my inhibitions took a back seat and all I wanted was to get laid. Even if it wasn't great. I wanted cock. I wanted to feel it, wrap my hand... and then my mouth around it. I wanted cock.

So he and I chatted for a bit and I told him it was that time of the month for me (which is apparently a turn off to a lot of guys, and sometimes me, too) but he didn't seem to mind all that much. "We'll only do things you approve of," he told me. Works for me. I hemmed and hawed for a while longer, telling him all the excuses I had NOT to go to meet him. He promised we could just "hang out" and share a beer or something. (Gee, this sounds kind of like my first night with Keith). I considered a bit longer then finally agreed.

We met outside his "apartment" which was blessedly silent and headed inside to his very stark room. He had a small twin bed tucked into a corner, a mostly empty desk, and a laptop. And a room mate, one thin-walled room over, through the shared entryway.

I immediately sat down on the bed since it was really the only place TO sit. Not long after, I slipped under the covers in an effort to warm up from the chill room. He joined me, laying down, our feet the only parts touching. He invited me to lay down with him, but I somehow managed to miss the invitation (until later when it occurred to me what he'd said). Eventually I took it upon myself to lay down against him, in the crook of his arm.

I enjoy the slow build up that comes with a new lover, and in part this is among the reasons I rarely push things toward nudity and conclusion right away. However, it wasn't long before he turned toward me and his lips found mine. Our kissing styles aren't much the same and while I'm generally very good at matching my own to my lovers, his I found a little difficult. Though I liked it. A lot. His lips and tongue would take one of my lips into his mouth and then moments later I'd feel the sharp, dragging of his teeth against it. I clutched him harder, trying some of the same technique on him.

My hand explored under his shirt a bit, even has his began to do the same. He deftly unhooked my bra and smoothly switched our positions so he could take my shirt off with little interruption. He followed with his own and we lay against one another, skin to skin, hands exploring. While he began to remove my pants I took his belt in hand and found, without being able to draw back and see I was unable to figure out his fly. Irritated, I slid my hand into the surprisingly loose waistband of his pants and found his naked cock beneath hard. I gasped and said "oh" or something else when I realized he wasn't wearing underwear and was so incredibly hard.

Quickly he sat up and divested us both of what was left of our clothing. The rest of the events become vaguely muddled, the moments more like stills frames of a movie, strung together in no particular order. I could feel his cock between our bodies. I moved up so that it was pressed against my pussy, our lips still locked. I rubbed myself against it there, loving the feel as he scratched his nails over my skin, over and over. I moved downward to lick his cock teasingly, my eyes on his face. I took him into my mouth for a few moments before moving back down to lick his balls, and just beneath. I let my tongue snake into the crevice between ball and leg, eliciting a delightful gasp. I went back to sucking his cock before he pulled me back up to kiss me and turn us over.

Knowing he couldn't be inside me, he took his cock in hand and began rubbing it over my clit. Over and over he thrust against me. Three times I felt my body spasm into that intense preorgasm tingling, that feeling of heat and tightness and inevitability that precedes orgasm by a few moments. I think it was my shock and surprise at being brought to that point that kept me from actually cumming. Finally, no where near worn out or done but seeing the tension and concentration on his face I told him he shouldn't feel obligated to wait for me. "I can cum anytime," he replied. He let his cock dip lower so he was thrusting just barely in and out of my pussy. His hand still blocked the way, keeping him from thrusting all the way inside. He continued to tease both of us with the shallow thrusts, his hand guiding his cock to press against different parts of my inner walls. I moaned and arched harder into him, wanting to badly to take him all the way inside. I told him as much, but he continued to hold back. When he came he pulled out, letting his cum splash across my stomach. I reached down to caress his balls as he squirted, eliciting a load groan from him.

Quickly afterward, heedless of his cum still wet on my body he lay atop me, kissing me deeply. Normally I'm one for getting a towel and cleaning up the "mess" but his lack of concern about it (and willingness to share it) made it equally inconsequential to me. It wasn't too long before our bodies were cool and dry. We lay there talking for a while. "Would you be disappointed if I told you I didn't cum?" I asked him, shyly. He seemed unaffected by my revelation, telling me, "it just means next time I'll have to try harder." We talked a little more before he became distracted by his computer. Taking it as a gentle invitation to leave, I began to gather up my clothes. "I can't find my underwear," I said, looking amongst the blankets. He found them on the floor and put them with the rest of my clothes asking, "there. There's your underwear. Happy?" even as he drew me back into his arms, his lips finding mine again.

What followed was a blissful second round wherein much of what happened the first time was repeated, though this time he went down, his tongue licking my clit over and over. I'm terribly shy about receiving oral in the first place and knowing I was on my period made it a little more disconcerting, but he kept his mouth on my clit and I was able to relax into it, though all the clitoral attention quickly became too much. We kissed some more and then he knelt up on the bed feeding me his cock so I could suck it back to hardness. Then, he repeated his slow, shallow fucking of my pussy while I moaned as he pressed against the most sensitive spot. I let my hand drift down but by now I was just that much too dry to masturbate properly. And I'd forgotten my lube.

I quickly gave up and went back to exploring and licking his body. With each sweet thrust I found myself biting down just a little on his shoulder in retaliation for the way he bit my lips and scratched my skin, returning a touch of the delightful pain he'd offered me. Eventually, he knelt back up on the bed so I could suck him again, and it was that way which I made him cum his second time.

Afterward, we dried off and I dressed myself. There was no goodbye kiss, but he did ask when I'd be back from my trip. I'm sure I'll see him again. I hope I do. Because this could potentially be a really great thing.

I'm still really shocked that the sex was as good as it was. And I want more.

It's over.

And frankly, it's about fucking time. I've been very patient. I've waited. And hoped. And denied myself. And denied others. But it's finally over.

The streak has ended.

I got laid.

And it was GOOOOOOOOOOOOD.

Bitching.

I'm practically obsessed. I've been thinking almost non-stop about that damned Keith and what we talked about. I try not to talk toooooo much about Keith's really personal details for fear someone might recognize him from what I talk about. I tend to value his privacy too much. On the other hand, I'm also in an excellent position to "out" him about a lot of things and perhaps ruin much of his current life. Lovely to know, really. :-)

Anyway, not to put too fine a point on it, Keith is apparently bi and into the whole bdsm thing. Both of which are things I totally dig. I cannot express my pleasure and delight at learning that he actually IS bi. Because, holy shit. That's like... my fantasy. I specifically asked him if he was based on something I saw online and he denied it and told me he was "mad" that I'd seen that and of course it wasn't true. I totally understand why he'd be shy about it with me... but we'd already spent an incredible night together and this was during our second. It's not like I was about to walk out. But maybe he didn't really know that.

He should have known it since. Although last time he told me I didn't believe him. I wasn't sure he wasn't mocking me. Because he does that. Except, you know, this time he had proof and it was certainly convincing. And fucking HOT.

I wandered around the house, once again, BEYOND discontent with my life and finally explained to my husband about how god damned bitter I am that Keith is coming to live around right about the same time we're moving. I told husband a little of what Keith shared with me and I could see husband's face change in comprehension. He knows I want to be part of these things, though I'm not really sure he understands how badly. However, maybe he understands my frustration right now. Extreme frustration.

It doesn't help that my period is inevitably the most horny week of the month for me.

I'm probably going to go hunting for cosmetic sponges tomorrow. And bring my vibrator to try the idea out to see if it works for me. If stuffing a cosmetic sponge up there with stop me from bleeding all the hell over MP that'd be great.

Oh, and I'll probably be working ungodly night hours all week. Which will mean it'll probably be in the wee hours of the morning that I see MP. Which means he'll have to get up early and leave me to go to work. Not a bad way to start a morning. If you can get by without too much sleep....

More possibility

My shyness. I'm waaaay too fucking shy. They say fake it 'til you make it. But I pretty much fake the lack of shyness people see NOW. It's awfully hard to fake even LESS shy. Although I apparently pulled it off with Keith, that was an almost perfect lack of shyness. Once we got naked. But up until then....

There's this guy who comes into the store on a mostly daily basis. He's very gregarious and funny. It would appear that he has no shame. He informed me the other day that he was looking really good that day. He told me he looked in the mirror and just knew today was HIS day and I should feel free to tell him so. I laughed and told him he did, indeed, look beautiful today. Using the word "beautiful" intentionally, of course, and teasingly. Of course, this conversation forced me to look at him a little more closely than I might have otherwise. He's not super hot. However, his attitude absolutely is. I'd totally do him.

He came in another day last week and was very quiet and didn't really respond when I tried to talk to him. I wasn't sure how much of it was based on the fact that it was ass-early and he had clearly only recently showered... which meant he was probably fairly fresh from bed. I'm not a morning person either, so I didn't hold it against him.

The third time he came in, he complimented me. And said something about me being pretty. I smiled and laughed and replied flippantly, "I know, aren't I?" Or something like that. I'm such a loser because we all know I don't REALLY feel that way. Correctly, I should have said something like "thank you," but for some reason that's very hard... and just feels even more lame than being flip about it.

So obviously, his attitude and yes, even his looks (which aren't super hot, as I said, but still attractive) make him very fuckable to me. I figure I'll be flirtatious and play the non-shy person and see what happens.

Although I have to admit, in some ways the things that makes him most attractive to me is that his attitude reminds me of Keith. That complete and utter lack of shyness reminds me VERY much of the way Keith acted both in and out of bed. Obviously, Keith has since proven that he's been very shy and reticent about a few things. However, I don't care if this guy is doing the same thing since I only want to use him once or twice.

On second thought, I kind of do care. Because it might have been much more interesting to be able to do a little kinky exploring with Keith....

Perversity of the Body

So much going on lately. I got a call yesterday from work asking me if I wanted to go work an hour away for a week. Of course, I get a hotel room. Fuck. Okay. Send me. Because it's only an hour away, I'll likely take my car because I loathe the feeling of being trapped, even if I don't go anywhere.

I started looking around for someone to come see me. Last time I stayed in a hotel I managed not to get together with anyone (though DJ was supposed to show up but instead became permanently MIA). I was a bitter, angry woman. So I figured this time I'd pick one of the guys I've been looking into and invite him. If it was convenient enough. Except, oddly, everyone I was considering lives as far from the city to which I'm heading as they do from me right now.

Or so I thought.

Before I left work (and knew about this trip) I ran into MP at work. I was walking back from putting something in my car and he was coming in to buy something. He yelled something at me but it didn't register. He yelled again something like "why are you such a bitch?" which made me turn around. "What?" I asked. And as he got closer he said, "Why're you such a bitch?" The funny thing is, I couldn't POSSIBLY be offended by the question because I KNOW I'm a bitch to him on a regular basis and it was undeniable. I shrugged and said something flip. After a moment I said "hey, did you see my new car?" He mocked it a little and I told him, "fuck, it's way better than the Neon." He had to agree.

So we talked a little more as we headed into the store but neither of us had anything of interest to say, really, since the walk was very short. I stared at him, though, as he went through the line and talked to my coworker. He's very charming and friendly with BOTH Of my coworkers and they both appear to adore him. To me, he acts like an ass (thus why I treat him badly). And I thought, "fuck, if he acted like that toward me." And then I thought, "he is pretty cute. maybe I should...."

Anyway. So last night, after I found out about my trip I mentioned it to him and he told me that he lives about 15 minutes from that city. Hmm. So we talked and made some super tentative plans. It all depends on my schedule and whether my room can be artfully placed away from my coworkers. I'm hoping if I drive myself down there I will have more control over the placement of my room and thus my privacy. I told him I'd let him know for sure when I knew anything other than "I'm going to the city this week."

Meanwhile, Keith was (oddly) online in the middle of his day (my night). Here I had been awake since 4:30 in the morning save for an hour nap in the evening and I ended up staying up and talking to him until almost 3AM. Fuck.

The conversation was really, really interesting and well worth it. Though I find myself more frustrated both with my situation and his, and with him in general. While I still adore him and pine for our two nights together and the hope of a third, he's come out to me about a lot of really interesting, really kinky (okay, perverse) things. The first time he told me any of this I kind of rolled my eyes as, during our time together, he'd seemed passionately opposed to those self-same things. Now it turns out he adores them? It makes me angry and frustrated that he couldn't tell me those first two nights. Or in the intervening 7 months since then. Having read my blog (at least in passing) he should surely be familiar with what I'm interested in and be able to wave his hands and say "me, too! me too!" without being too concerned I'd turn him away. But he never did.

So, yes. I'm bitter. And frustrated. And excited. And a little scared. Because despite my intense interest in those areas... I have absolutely no experience and feel like a damned amateur next to him. Dammit. Obviously, there is no better time to start than the present but it's still vaguely worrisome that I'll somehow disappoint him next time. Which really is the same worry I've been carrying the last 8 months.

Anyway.

The perversity all culminates in my laughing to my husband and telling him, "wouldn't it be funny if this one week away from home I get my period?" Welcome to irony. I've had none of my regular PMS symptoms (especially the really obvious physical ones) and yet... I started cramping a bit ago. I felt the blood leave my face as I realized exactly what that meant.

Turns out I have news for MP much sooner than I expected.

Value

One of the things I really value about myself if my ability to just... let go.

Which isn't to say I'm always really great at it.

Nothing at all.

So yeah. Nothing's happening anyway. At least, not this week. I've been tired and vaguely ill for the last couple of days. Something to do with the dog waking me up at 3 and 3:30 in the morning when I'm supposed to wake up just before 4:30. Not good. Not good at all. Mostly, I've wanted to die.

Last night was the first night I got a good amount of sleep. I lay there until about 11 wondering "what the fuck is WRONG with my BODY?" Here I was in bed just after 10 and I couldn't sleep. Nevermind that I was freakin' tired as hell AND took a couple of sleeping pills. Other than THAT, though. What ever. It made me mad. And then I passed out. Only to wake up every hour to pee. I drank too much water, trying not to be sick....

So I'm still tired as hell. And today's a busy day. Which means I'm going to be tired, still, when I return home. Which means I will almost certainly take a nap upon my return.

Which pretty much puts me out of the running for even TRYING to get together with ANYone.

Basically, I'm probably going to be celibate until I leave here. Unless darling Keith shows up before I leave. Or Trian keeps acting right. Maybe.

Pity Party

A couple of short things.

Yahoo is still messing up. It like to refer to me by the nickname associated with this blog even though I've done my best to get rid of that connection. Some certain fellow yahoo-ers have noticed the name. Reason tells me they've probably found the blog but are biding their time to see what I write. Well, fuck 'em anyway, I say. Not much more outing can be done to me, I think. And even if there were a big risk.. I move in a very few short months. So whatever.

On the other hand... I don't need to freakin' INVITE it. So I changed my blogging name, republished the whole thing and removed the blog from showing up on my "profile." Which pretty effectively tells google NOT to spider me. This is good.

So what IS going on? Trian's suddenly turning into this sex fiend, veering away from the depressed and more into the "normal" world I'm used to seeing divorcing people in. While I don't celebrate his impending divorce, I do celebrate the fact that he appears to have finally accepted the rightness of the action. Whether his new-found sluttishness will help him heal, I can't say. Nor can I decide if I really want anything to do with that. There have been times my interest has been piqued, but I mostly require attention and flirting in order to keep that interest piqued. Without it... nothing.

Which brings me to the fact that I almost never see Sam anymore. It's hard to lust after someone I'm seeing like... once a month. Which I guess is okay since I'm moving. I certainly don't need to add that to my pile of lusty-regrets when I move.

I haven't heard much from my "chickens" lately. My most likely candidate is still away, near as I can tell. But maybe that's okay. My interest in him has cooled a little in the few days he's been gone. More of that "how can I lust after you if you're not around?" syndrome, maybe. Or the reality of the fact that dude's married and cheating. Or the fact that his AFF profile is short, concise, and has absolutely nothing to do with me. In fact, I'm the opposite of what he professes to want and it's hard to feel sexy when I'm not really his type.

It really makes me miss Frank, in that way. I still maintain that he's a bad man and not someone I need in my life.... but he made me feel beautiful and sexy. Whether he meant it or not, he never allowed me to doubt that he wanted to see me naked. That was fucking HOT. Being wanted is a powerful drug, and much of the reason I adored him. The way he made me feel.

And Keith, too. Delicious Keith. I'd much rather have him.

Instead, I don't get anybody.