I’m in love with this guy who isn’t my boyfriend.

I have sexy dreams about him in a way that does not happen with boyfriend.  The other night I dreamed I was going to jog past him wearing nothing but a tshirt and underwear.  As I got closer, I had second thoughts and wheeled around so maybe he wouldn’t notice.  But there he was, and he waved to me.  I waved back, tried to act casual, and jogged home.  I hoped he was watching me as I ran past.

In another dream, we cut right to the chase.  I kissed him and melted a little on the inside.  We took off our clothes and fucked.  He was seated and I climbed on top of him.  It was awkward, and the lights may have been on.  It probably wasn’t that good – no foreplay.  I just wanted him, bad.

He is nice, smart, shares my politics, has cool hobbies, volunteers with me, blogs intelligently, and is tall and cute in a geeky way.  And, most importantly, he is also in a long-term committed relationship.

Fuck me.

I wish he had some gaping character flaw so I’d know any relationship we had would be doomed.  Aside from any unrequited affections on his part.  Maybe he doesn’t put out.   I’d probably be unhappy even if I managed to steal him from his lady friend.  Fantasy is by definition unattainable, and the object loses its appeal if you succeed in attaining it.  The Life of David Gale taught me that.

Maybe a little fantasy is helpful.  Keeps the old juices flowing.  I was never especially creative in grade school, but boy do I have a good imagination when it comes to lusting after men who aren’t interested in me.

When I was on the rebound from dating a douchebag a few years ago, it seemed like a great idea to date The Nice Guy.  I think I made the safe choice.  Boyfriend is very sweet and would be an excellent partner if I wanted to get married and squeeze out kids. 

But I also want someone who won’t want to keep his hands off me, who can’t wait to get me home at the end of the night. I know I need to step up my game and slut it up to make things easier, but it is exhausting. Not everyone is as effortlessly stunning as Mlle. Nottibits always is. There is also nothing worse than getting all dressed up, so to speak, with nowhere to go.

I am tired of making responsible adult choices.  Perhaps it would be wrong to swing over to self-destructive choices, but they sure look attractive. I am grasping at any romantic straw to feel like sex and romance are not a farce.

What to do? All suggestions are welcome.

I’d come across the latter before, and this was normally in the form of someone else’s problem er, I mean, partner. I heard horror stories of all kinds and was wary. But, after a number of play partners who were strong and stable, I became soft and let my guard down.

That’a how we come into the recent past where I started dating a submissive, young woman named, let’s say, Elle. In my defense, I suspected that from day one, Elle was a little insane. She called me at all hours, several times a day after our first date. She expressed being hurt that she was crazy about me but I didn’t return the sentiment…after the first date. She was frustatingly indirect and passive aggressive with me but insisted otherwise. Before our second date even, I said I was done with her because of the number of calls and demands.

But somehow we became fuck buddies – admittedly I was starved for sex at the time and happy to have a petite, masochistic body to play with. Actually, this may have been my first encounter with someone who genuinely enjoyed physical pain. I could slide my nails through her skin, bite, slap, pull and stretch her and she cried breathlessly for more. Had the craziness not persisted, knife and piercing play probably would have been in our near future. But tendencies like talking and acting like a four-year old child, jealousy, and the kind of emotional attachmant that tends toward obsession started to diminish any attraction to her.

Finally, after putting her job in jeopardy to see me and me not wanting to officially date her (or say those three words), the upper limit of crazy was reached: the insincere suicide threat. She said that she had never considered committing suicide before but, because no one loves her now,  she wants to do it. No no…I think she said “I don’t want to but there’s nothing else to do since no one loves me”  I freaked out and I talked about it with her for some time. It became more and more clear that she had no intention of committing suicide but I played along for a few more hours. At some point she left, saying I didn’t care enough about her or some such nonsense. Anyway, within five hours she told me that I wouldn’t want to see her again cause she’s crazy, that she had no intention to commit suicide ever, she berated me for not caring about her enough and finally she said that she got tickts for us to go on vacation for a week together next month.

Seriously? No. Not in your hare-brained life. I told her as much and that I never wanted to see her again. She said that as an aspiring counselor I should be able to deal with someone like her, someone with emotional issues. Never would I want potential patient and a lover to be the same person. Not ever.

So, anyway, I’m wary again

Only a few hours ago, I was depressed with a number of things. And now, with this possession, I can’t let those things bother me.

http://fetlife.com/sit_on_santas_lap

In many cases, my race is linked to stereotypes – not necessarily the bad kind but just …how about inoffensive assumptions? Where am I going with this?

I’m starting to get involved with a non-black, non-Korean woman here who’s dated other black women before…exclusively I think. I didn’t really make anything of it until she asked me about these R&B artists I’d never heard of, then demanding “How is it possible you don’t know them?!” Why would I? Ask me about alternative rock or drum & bass and we might nod heads more often. I dunno, I guess it’s ok to assume I like R&B but then judging me harshly based on the fact that I don’t care for it yet am willing to listen is a little bit of a turn off. She demand-asked “Do you know any music at all?!” Well, I studied music for six and half years but that doesn’t count I guess. Sigh.

Whatever, I’m gunna fuck the shit out of her tonight.

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.

It’s freezing here and this photo warms me up

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!

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.

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: