The First Thing I StumbledUpon Today

Perfect.
After a long night of prepping for a dinner party, I took a hot shower, masturbating for about 3/4 of it. It was nice but I would’ve loved an extra hour to dedicate to the task. I remember a time in my life where I’d spend an entire day masturbating or at least an entire morning. Now, I’m lucky if I get a hot second to myself…but in the meantime I’ve trained my body to adapt to this time constraint. I flood my brain with images and words that bring me to an orgasm with a few pumps of my glass dildo but I imagine that being incredibly horny all day helps, too.

This time I imagined my current crush, a girl I met last week with a beautiful mouth. I imagined her in a strap on fucking me senseless with moans and “I’m gunna cum so hard” spilling out of her beautiful mouth.

Ahh…maybe I need to take a sick day soon.

See the Light

It’s freezing here and this photo warms me up

Indeed

I’ve been watching an obscene amount of The L Word lately – I was so behind for so long and finally have the time to watch this ridiculous melange of Lifetime and softcore porn.

So, I’m on season 4 and there’s a dinner party where Jenny says something like if you’re a lesbian then you wanted a monkey as a pet as a little girl and straight girls wanted horses. Everyone at the party immediately dismisses this crank nonsense because Jenny’s generally considered insane..I do too and I think on it some more. Were there any tells from my childhood revealing the sexual thing I am now?

I never wanted a monkey as a pet…I think I wanted a shark. None of my “deviancies” really needed to manifest themselves in any kind of telling habit or anything; I so enjoyed keeping my secrets. Thinking about it all now, I can barely recall my devotion and obsession with women. However, if I were ever to forget there are two physical manifestations of my gaydom as it was from age 12 to 15; my porn box, a shoe box with the insides lined with images of naked and half naked women from fashion magazines and my favorite binder with the insides lined with any picture I could find of Milla Jovovich.

It’s funny that I felt the need to keep the former a secret but never saw a problem with the latter. Now that I think about it my parents, who I never really came out to about anything, must have seen it at some point. I thought it was perfectly normal to have a small shrine to a female actress/model but now I’m thinking not so much.

Then there were the sleepovers, the GSA, the panties that weren’t mine, the panties/corsets/fishnets/handcuffs I bought as gifts, late night phone calls, and all the lesbian website porn viruses on the family computer… They must have suspected something. Or at least they did til I dated M. Ha, I fooled them all!

I want it all

I’m in a sticky situation…it’s better than where I was but more complicated now.

M made it to me, he works an hour away and when we get together the sex is fantastic. He directs and controls and holds me when it’s needed then he holds me and kisses my forehead playfully other times. He loves me so much and I know that he flew half way around the world to be with me.

Just before he got here, though, I made a close friend with whom I get along better than even the last guy. He’s introverted and sarcastic and interesting and, worse, he’s kinky. Being an introvert and non-scene type, it’s refreshing to meet similar types as we tend to keep to ourselves. Isn’t it already a small miracle to meet someone you click with? When you both exclaim that “I like that too!!” and “I can’t believe you know about..!!” For me, when that discovery of kink happens occurs naturally in a conversation I immediately fall into lust. That feeling is overwhelming and has a scary kind of permanence in my life; it creates a bond with the person that never really goes away..thank god it’s only happened about twice, well, now thrice. So, I’m tempted to explore this budding relationship but I should dedicate those efforts to M, who needs my support and love here.

While I’m sure I can maintain relationships with both openly, I know that engaging the new guy could create some conflict in the future. I just don’t see it going anywhere positive. And can I really complain about just sticking with M? He need barely to touch me to draw out intense orgasms; the ends of our sessions usually have me begging him to stop forcing me to orgasm over and over. The immense control he has over me sexually gives way to constant doting and concern outside the bedroom. Still…I want to know what I’m missing. I’m just being greedy, I think. Maybe.

Also

I love this strip tease. It’s probably one of the best I’ve ever seen.

Can’t Be Undone

I’m away from everything I know and love – sometimes I sit around and think how amazing the opportunity to work abroad is and how lucky I am. But other times…right about now actually, I’m wondering why the fuck I abandonned my greatest sources of sexual satisfaction – my bf, play partners, and toy box – just to be where I am now. I’m horny and frustrated.

So what is the title about? I’ve met a guy here with whom I get along swimmingly and have great chemistry but who has told me flat out that he has no kinks and a pretty low sex drive. Upon hearing this, I kind of cringed but decided not to be shallow and give some fooling around a go.

It’s tough to deny that the sensations from physical intimacy with someone for the first time are lovely. New skin on skin contact feels warm and tingly and exciting. I mean, generally we all have similar bits but exploring someone’s body for the first time is just so novel in its awkwardness. I think it was my neophilia that really made the experience a pleasant one because the following romps were about as fruitless (for me) as they could have been.

After a few attempts at an orgasm last night with said someone, I woke up this morning so desperate to come and downright angry that I couldn’t with this guy. The real issue though is that it’s not like he didn’t care or didn’t try…the regular run of the bases just doesn’t cut it for me anymore. I wanted so much for all the other great aspects of our relationship to guarantee sexual compatibility but it didn’t..not for all my directing or his dedication. Anyway, I don’t think kink can be undone. Frankly, the only reason I’d want it to be now is so I can get some relief during my time here.

Here’s a picture I like:

Photo: Smoking in the Nude

I wish this were me right now. I can’t even remember the last time I had a cigarette…I don’t even recall really enjoying the experience all that much. Yet…amidst the stress and the unrelenting humidity that I often compare to living inside of a Hot Pocket  I can think of nothing more comforting than lounging in my undies and smoking. A cigar might seal the deal.

Catch Up

It’s been forever since I posted and I’m content to get started up again now. I’m pretty sure I’m going to load up future posts with quotes, sexy photos I love and news until I get back into the swing of things.

Quote: “Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own.” – Stranger in a Strange Land by Robert A Heinlein

Sexy photo:

Part of me can’t enjoy this photo because I see that she’s using some oil for cooking those sausages – while I accept the euphemism, I worry for the impending vegetable oil burns.

As for news, there’s been a ton since I last posted yet I can only recall an (old-ish) episode of Oprah earlier this week where she addressed female masturbation with Dr Laura Berman. A mother called in concerned for her four year old daughter who had begun masturbating and was breathing heavily and had a fast heart rate while doing so. Maybe not so much concerned…the woman seemed absolutely terrified. Dr. Laura light heartedly responded that the child was simply self-soothing, coming to orgasm and to let her be unless the masturbation was done to excess. I was already impressed but then the doctor went on to say that the lesson on masturbation moderation was a perfect time to talk about how the girl’s genitalia should be special to her and should be kept private (but aren’t dirty in any way)  AND to come to the mother if anyone touched them.

This is the quality of information that will stay in my head forever. Oh, Dr. Laura, how I aspire to your wisdom and open-minded philosophies!

I hope that’s good enough for now.

The Blonde of My Dreams

Sometimes I have these startlingly erotic dreams that interject my regular flow of boring or just plain confusing dreams. For the most part my dreams aren’t memorable enough to survive waking and the ones that are just so superior in What-the-fuckness that they linger for days. As far as the erotic ones, the wtf element that serves as a constant in every single one since puberty has been a petite-ish nude woman with shoulder-length blonde hair.

The very first dream I had of her was the first ever sexual dream I ever had – she was laying in the middle of a white, featureless room in a very deep sleep. I straddled her waist and ran my fingers over the skin along her sides and breasts until she woke up, parted her lips and sighed as if she were still dreaming. I kept skimming my fingers over her in an exploratory sort of way and at the same time became increasingly overwhelmed and aroused. I woke up and lay in bed for a couple hours, staring at the ceiling wondering what the fuck that dream was really about.

Another memorable dream I had of her was during a sex party where she was the hostess clad in a slinky silky silver robe and slip outfit. I spent the entirety of the dream sifting through naked couples and dark rooms draped in red fabrics looking for her – she was always just leaving when I arrived in a particular room. Of course, when I finally caught her, I woke up.

The latest dream had her as mischievous headmistress type showing me a room of leatherbound books and impact toys. she wanted my help writing and illustrating a book that highlighted each of her tools. To ensure the validity of the content, she insisted on trying each of the toys on me. I agreed but sat down first to start drawing the cover…she stood behind me with her hands on my shoulders and bare breasts pressed against my….woke up.

The others I’ve had usually feature her as an extra or some sinister character. I’m not really sure what to make of them but they keep my nightlife interesting.

Kissing and Telling (with sweaty kisses)

Oddly enough, I’ve been too busy having sex to post about it.

Nothing unusual for the most part; fucking lots, cumming lots, then silly post coitus discourse. I’m the one most affected but I wonder how common the giddy high is, and maybe I’m starting to suspect that it’s from the asphyxiation. Anyway,

Living with M is about equal parts pros and cons. Outside of the occasional sleepovers, I’ve never shared a bed with anyone and am clearly not used to it. The other night I found myself boiling over in silent rage as, next to me, M twisted, snored, and talked at me in his sleep. He also has a habit of feeling me up in his sleep which is sexy if I’m around 5% awake but utterly terrifying if I’ve already slipped into the REM sleep. I’m pretty sure I decked him for cuddling with me in the middle of the night which is about as startling a wake up call as I can imagine but he just Harumpfed and went to back to sleep.

There are, however, the little gems that make it all worthwhile. Everytime I change into M’s favorite fetishwear (pajama pants), he becomes very anxious to get it on and the passion with which he pursues this endeavor is something like a mad fury to grab at all my sensitive bits, sink his nails and teeth into the less sensitive ones, and really just fuck away. M is also elated to have me around so that he can shave me whenever he wants with ample time to prep and get all the nooks and crannies (all while maintaining a rock hard erection).  It’s funny and convenient that we share something of a hair removal fetish.

We still haven’t used much of anything in the toy box although I am counting on a non-stop, furied fuckfest later today…

This photo is unfortunately very reminiscent of M and I’s sessions. I hate sweat…it’s gross and clingy and not my thing. The really unfortunate part is that recently M mentioned how he just adores the smell and taste of my sweat, he likes the way it makes my skin look AND when we jokingly discussed sweat as a seasoning for food his laughs were NOT convincingly enough in a derisive tone.

Performance anxiety

BF asked if the sex has gone downhill in the year we’ve been dating.  I suppose the novelty has worn off.

When I don’t see BF for the better part of a week, due to work and busyness, I start to wonder if my relationship is pointless.   Like FWB all over again.

On the plus side, sex is often really good at the end of that week.

I don’t lust for him the same way I did a year ago, for better or worse.  That shit gets distracting, especially when you’re trying to write a senior thesis.  In class, on the bus to work, all these illicit daydreams and flashbacks of the night prior.

Part of his appeal was the element of uncertainty.  I’d always go to his place to study, and I’d make an effort to look nice, and I was always on edge at the prospect of getting fucked at the end of the night.  But it was no sure thing.

Part of it was wanting what I shouldn’t have.  I shouldn’t have been studying his body instead of my books.  I shouldn’t have been pursuing a guy rebounding from the love of his life.  I shouldn’t have fucked him on the couch at 2am while his roommate slept in the bedroom just feet away.  I shouldn’t have been sleeping with one of my best friends.

We’d been sleeping together for months before we started dating.  During that time, we pretended we were just friends when others were around.  I pretended I wasn’t in love with him.

I was struggling to keep my life together and graduate, and I think the sex was wrapped in lust, secrecy, and cravings for intimacy and validation.  Like how I imagine Catholic sex to be, or maybe Hester Prynne and Arthur Dimmesdale’s affair.

It was tortured, and cathartic, and flawed, and I couldn’t get enough.

I’m glad life has slowed considerably since then.  Perhaps too much.  But the crucible in which this relationship formed has cooled a little since.

I don’t want sex to be a chore.  I don’t want to overthink it and get performance anxiety.  I don’t want him to worry he’s an inadequate lay.

But Dan Savage and Betty Dodson are telling me I’m going to need to get to work.  Must get down and dirty with myself, and hisself, and start creating some fireworks.